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Rampage didn’t often reminisce about his past or much of what had come before his little adventure on this dirtball of a planet. Sometimes… Sometimes he couldn’t help it though. Times like now when the skies were clear and the stars were crisp and sharp. Bright in an almost impossible way. Bright like how they had been on Omnicron once he had finished slaughtering everyone there.
He knew it haunted Depth Charge that he had lived when everyone else had died. (And suffered so beautifully for what they had been complicit in too.) Maybe if they hadn’t been so rotten right to their very sparks, more of them might have lived.
Hah. More like if those torturers Maximal scientists hadn’t twisted his gift up into something unrecognizable, ‘Protoform X’ wouldn’t have existed and been able to do what he had done. After all, it was plenty easy to wipe out an entire colony when you couldn’t be killed. Not permanently anyway.
No, he would always leave Depth Charge alive. Rampage needed a witness to warn everyone else, to let them know that the monster they created was coming for them all. Every Maximal would suffer for the hubris of the Council and those scientists.
His gift might have been warped into devouring the energy and plating of others to help sustain his ill-gotten immortality, but he would always be able to see those strings of fate between their sparks. No gift required, not anymore. Not when it had been made a permanent focal point in his processors. The only thing he could cling to while they tore into his very spark again and again.
That red string that linked him to the ex-security officer, marking him as his spark-match was so thick and prominent that Rampage couldn’t ignore it, even if he wanted to. He could bait and taunt the manta-ray – eventually he would get what he really wanted from him. (Depth Charge would be the one to put an end to him, he could sense it and it only made him more mad, more willing to push those lines of atrocity and horror to get what he wanted.)
Not that he ever planned on telling the other about it either. Not only would he not be believed, (that part didn’t really matter), but then the unspoken tension between them would be acknowledged. Real. And if it was real, the crab would have to live (potentially for eternity) with the fact that he could never have that connection realized.
As much as that fate-string tugged on his half-spark some times, calling to the beastformer to actualize the prospective bond, it was something that could never be. He was insane, not delusional.
All of the wandering thoughts were starting to get a bit close to feeling like something real. Something Rampage did his best to strictly avoid. It was time for a distraction.
Wrecking some havoc on some very deserving mecha sounded amazing right now and he couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped free. He could avoid the Predacons, ‘obey’ Megatron and indulge in some grievous bodily harm all at once. It was a perfect idea!
As always, it was so easy to find the Maximals. Their bleeding sparks and all of those delicious emotions they practically blasted out lingered in the very air, making it easy to track them down. They were almost equal parts grief filled and happy. It was such a bizarre combination that Rampage couldn’t help but quiet his steps so he could stalk his prey, rather than try and startle them into shock and terror.
So focused on them and the strange place they had gathered (far away from their normal territory), he didn’t notice that he was being followed in turn. At least not until the tell-tale whine of a charged blaster echoed in his audials.
Rampage let his optics roll to the side to see Depth Charge standing poised like some do-gooder hero. It was sickening the way the manta-ray would do things like that, even if there was no audience for their little head to heads. “Couldn’t help yourself, could you?”
“Leave ‘em alone, ya sick freak. Not today.” The ex-security officer growled out, optics and weapon firmly trained on the mistake that was Protoform-X.
The crab-former let out a soft cackle at the words. That sounded like incentive to him. “You say that like that little toy is really going to do anything to me.”
“Maybe not, but blasting your helm open would make my orn that much better.” Depth Charge risked nudging the other with his weapon, like he could actually herd him away. Protoform-X wouldn’t go anywhere he didn’t want to. Not without a lot of collateral damage – something he wanted to avoid. At least for now.
Rampage wanted nothing more than to lay into the former security officer, but the rich emotions rippling off of all of the Maximals were just too tempting to ignore. He humoured the manta-ray by moving to the side, neither closer to the clustered mechs, nor further away.
He could hear and feel the way that the ex-security officer’s systems got more tense, the wider he circled around the Maximals. Even more delightful, Depth Charge didn’t shoot him. As much fun as their eternal battle against each other was, what the mechs in the clearing were doing was far more interesting. The new position even offered a clearer position to see from and the crab was momentarily entranced.
There were strange decorations everywhere. Lights strung along trees and looped back around so that the small clearing had a warm and intimate feeling to it. There was a silence and reverence among the mecha gathered below and Rampage didn’t know what to make of it. Joyous and sombre emotions were threaded through each of the Maximal’s sparks. He could see the way they cared for each other, could see the strings that tied them together – familial and not. He could even see the frayed ends where threads had been severed by death.
The longer he looked, the more he could see that they had put some real effort into whatever this was. Certainly, he had never seen anything like it at all, and Rampage felt the desire to destroy it all swell up in his own spark. Part envy, part wrath. No Maximal should get to enjoy anything after what their scientists had done to him.
It was frankly a miracle that none of them had heard the ruckus that the two aquatic beast-formers were making. Or that there wasn’t some sort of passive scan at work to watch out for the Predacons or whatever other dangers this stupid mudball held. (Which were plentiful given the amount of raw energon that was just everywhere.)
When Depth-Charge realized what the crab was staring at, he was quick to re-position himself to intervene. It was almost inevitable that Rampage would well, rampage, but if he distract him… He might not be able to stop the monster that was Protoform-X, but he could slow him down enough that the Maximals could prepare to defend or retreat.
“Why are they doing that.” Rampage surprised himself a bit when the words came out as genuine curiosity and not something to twist the manta-ray up into charging at him. (He would take those servos on his frame anyway he could get them.)
The words were so startling and felt so off that the manta-ray tensed and braced, ready for an attack to follow. It wouldn’t be the first time that the other had tried to distract him with something simple and monotonous. The longer the silence stretched between them, the more that Depth Charge realized it wasn’t a distraction, that it was genuine.
“It’s Allspark’s Orn a few joors. Or, probably at least as close as they can figure, with how wrecked everything is time wise.” The words came almost unbidden from the manta-ray, compelled to defend the Maximals, even if they didn’t know they were being saved.
“You said that like it explained anything.” Rampage growled out, raising his clawed servos up. He was going to start smashing things and ripping limbs off if he was just going to be mocked. There was something in him, that for the first time since he had been warped, that didn’t want to attack and destroy. Something about what they were doing tugged at his spark and he wanted to know why. It was familiar, for all that he didn’t remember much of his life from before.
Realizing that the crab was still serious, Depth Charge cautious lowered his blaster and glanced down long enough to make an assessment. From there it felt like he was making something of a mistake, but if this was going to be keep his charge in line, even for a breem, he would take it. “They’re getting ready to set off some lanterns and remember those that have gone on to rejoin the Well. Celebrate the lives that were lived and the ones that are yet to come.”
“…but why?” It was almost hesitant and Rampage liked that even less. He didn’t like feeling weak and helpless. Never again. He could almost understand why a more war-like culture like the Predacons would welcome new warriors to the fold, but Maximals didn’t have that. Was this more about them being soppy and pathetic? “Why remember the dead, they’re dead.”
There was plenty of disparaging things that Depth Charge could have said. Plenty of things he wanted to say, about how a comment like that shouldn’t surprise him from someone as twisted and evil as Protoform-X. And yet… Something in his own spark hesitated. Could almost sense the way that the crab-former was being genuine in his confusion rather than mocking.
How did one explain something like grief and loss to someone who just didn’t compute those emotions? If the experiment standing before him did feel those things, surely he wouldn’t have done what he had done? Not just to the scientists, but the entire colony. All of those innocent lives lost… Subconsciously the manta-ray clenched his free servo into a fist to stop himself from lashing out.
“You never lost someone before? Felt that gaping hole in your spark where the warmth of their lives once touched yours?” Depth Charge didn’t know why he was asking when he knew the other didn’t. Something compelled him to ask, to check in one more time. “Never seen an innocent life snuff out too soon?”
The claws of his crab alt-mode clacked together and Rampage growled lowly to himself. No one was innocent. Not a single one of those Maximals there, not a single person left on this stupid and terrible planet. He could see it. See the sickness in each of their sparks and he longed to liberate them so he could devour them all. Lap up their suffering and terror before they finally snuffed out.
… but that was wrong though. He had seen one innocent spark. Frame twisted and wrong and hurting… Transmutate had truly been innocent in a way that Rampage had never seen before. Had wanted to protect and nurture and – there was no point in any of those thoughts because Transmutate was dead. Just like anyone else that might have once mattered to Rampage.
The long discomfort evident in the crab’s entire frame and field had Depth-Charge even more tense, and he fought the urge to bring his blaster up. Starting a fire fight right here when Protoform-X was behaving was asking for trouble that wasn’t around yet. The longer he kept the other busy and distracted, the longer the Maximals would have to perform their rites.
“That doesn’t explain what they’re doing. How do some lights and lanterns celebrate or remember anything?” Rampage tapped his claws against his palms over and over as he started to get more agitated about all of this. The lack of clear and proper answers, the way the other aquatic beast-former kept tensing for a fight that kept not coming… No, he was all too ready to go terrorize those pathetic Maximals and distract himself properly from all of these feelings in his spark and cortex.
“The lanterns are meant to represent sparks leaving to rejoin the Well. The strings of lights are to show that we’re connected. Despite our differences, we all have sparks and those all come from and return to the Well. It helps brighten a sombre event and remind them that there is joy in a life lived, no matter how short it was.” It almost felt strange to explain something that was celebrated every vorn. Was it really possible that despite his time rampaging and slaughtering, that Protoform-X had never seen the festivities?
No matter how short… Transmutate’s time had been so short. Short and full of suffering that he hadn’t deserved. That young spark had deserved good things, a pain-free existence and a life. A life he hadn’t gotten. All because of those Maximals.
That was a life that should be remembered. Not whoever the Maximals were pretending to honour. Rampage’s pincers clacked together harshly and he fought back a growl, maybe he should destroy them now. Let them join those they ‘mourned’!
“Where did they get those lanterns.” Rampage wanted one now. Now. If he couldn’t get one, he would take one of the Maximal’s. They didn’t know what real suffering was anyway. Who could they possibly want to celebrate and mourn that actually mattered? (And if that was an excuse to finally rend them limb from limb? All the better…)
Depth Charge could hear the unspoken part of the demanded question. Why the crab-former might want one, he had no idea. Certainly helping him build one would be a way to get him away from the Maximals and comm. them about the danger that they were narrowly avoiding. “I can show you how to make one.”
And maybe it would avert a crisis for this orn. Primus only really knew why Rampage indulged the ex-security officer… It would feel so much better to just give in to the voice telling him to destroy the crab while he was open and vulnerable. “We’ll have to gather supplies, but it’s not complicated to do.”
“Show me.” Rampage growled out and stepped that much closer to the manta-ray. The way he could feel the other mech fight the desire to lash out at him was as delicious as always and yet… Part of him wanted to take the time to make sure that Transmutate was honoured properly. (And maybe that would help lessen some of the guilt he felt about it all.)
“Don’t get your plating in a bunch.” The ex-security officer muttered as he holstered his blaster. When that didn’t lure the monster into shifting gears, he had to accept that all of this was real. It was these odd moments were Depth Charge was reminded that as depraved as X was, he didn’t know how much of that came from what had been done to him.
“Go on, we have to go get some bits of tree to make the struts of the lantern.” The manta-ray didn’t shoo the other mech off, the risk of setting off a violent reaction was just too high. He wanted to though, wanted to push until the other snapped back and he had an excuse to put another bullet in the crab.
“What’s wrong with these trees?” Rampage gestured around, they were surrounded by them. Huge, sprawling things that obscured the sky. Was this just a ploy to get him away from the Maximals? He would take a real chunk out of the ex-security if that was the case.
“Wrong type. I know you’re not capable of trust, but there’s some of the right kind in a grove closer to the water. We’ll get a few of those and we can make a lantern.” Part of this felt wrong – helping the mech who was a constant reminder of his failures rather than ending him. The other part grudgingly acknowledged that helping X now would keep him from adding to that murder count. At least for a little while.
“…If you’re trying to distract me instead, I promise I’m going to devour that little stray cat that keeps following you around.” Really, Rampage might just do that anyway. Stupid cat-former was constantly under foot it seemed. Always poking his nose into places it didn’t belong.
“Noted.” Another reason to keep Cheetor from following the manta-ray around. The kid was so curious and had so many questions. Questions he didn’t want to answer.
Depth Charge kept his word and led the crab to the grove of willows that bracketed a small pond and stream. He pointed off at the thin branches that swayed as a breeze kicked in. “These kind bend, the other’s would just snap when we try to shape them.”
“I don’t care about that,” Rampage growled out. The urge to say frag it all and tear into the manta-ray across from him was almost unbearable. Tearing someone apart would feel much better than the way guilt and grief over Transmutate warred in his mutated spark.
“If you don’t get to the building part, I’m going to go get one.” Given that there was several only a click back the way they had come, the crab would almost prefer that. Get to let off some steam, listen to the Maximals scream and feed off of their grief and terror. The temptation was so strong that it had Rampage turning back towards the Maximals almost unthinkingly.
Depth Charge muttered something disparaging under his vents as he collected what was needed. This felt like a betrayal to everyone that had been killed by Protoform-X, but he knew it was keeping him from adding to that horrific body count. These Maximals might have been fighting with the Predacons for a while now, but they were civilians at their cores. They didn’t understand the horrors that X could and would gleefully commit.
Supplies gathered, it was easy enough to guide the crab through the building process. It was surreal to be making Spark Lanterns out of organic material with X. Like a strange recharge flux that he might wake from at any point – back on Omnicron and surrounded by partially eaten bodies.
They weren’t complicated to make and Rampage was particularly focused and gentle as he made his. Depth Charge almost couldn’t wrap his cortex around it. Who was the crab even making this for? Protoform-X wasn’t capable of feeling the things that these lanterns represented. He was a psychopath through and through… Wasn’t he?
The lantern took shake under the crab’s claws and the ex-security officer donated some flimsy to line the sides and top with. Once it was finished it didn’t look exactly like the ones the Maximals had made, but the idea was the same. From there, a bit of fuel was added to the center piece and lit.
The fire was small and flickering but the heat was enough to begin to tug the lantern upwards in his servos. It wasn’t a struggle to keep a hold on it, but Rampage felt compelled to let it go. Something in his spark felt… normal, for the first time since he had been snatched for experimentation.
Rampage watched as the heat from the small flame inside of the lantern lifted the fragile structure up out of his servos. It bobbed and rose in the air slowly, the flame obscured by the flimsy now that it was just out of reach. It was so delicate… Much like a crystal chamber and spark. The struts of the lantern could snap so easily, and like a spark, the flame easily snuffed.
The torn and twisted half-spark that glowed in his chest felt full for the first time since Megatron had split him asunder. Full of… of grief, of opportunities missed. Of hope that Transmutate’s spark had rejoined with the Well, that he wasn’t suffering by association for what Rampage had done.
As the lantern floated farther and farther away, that fullness in his spark started to go with it, dimming until only the sharp agony of existence was left.
Transmutate was gone, but not forgotten.
Rampage could only hope that his desires came true and that he didn’t outlive Depth Charge too. The loss of his unrealized spark-match would be that final tipping point into true insanity. (Part of him wanted to kill the manta-ray just for that. If he was insane, maybe it wouldn’t hurt anymore. The other part despaired at the idea of ending their boundless chase, in any way other than both of them dying at the same time.)
Setting off two lanterns would be too much – if his spark felt like this now, surely that would be what finally killed him. His spark bursting out of its chamber, too big and bright to be contained any longer. Taking out himself and anyone near with the explosion.
Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. He would finally be with Transmutate again, and Depth Charge too. It almost sounded… nice. Warm.
Maybe this ‘Allspark’s Orn’ wasn’t so bad.