ask-smokescreen:

the-scrappy-stinger:

If we find someone, we just- I don’t know! We KNOW they don’t have his body! We’ll just ask around! (Bee’s just barely keeping pace, running so fast he’s certain his feet are missing the ground on some steps.) Who’d keep a spark anyway?!

Unless they’re in the statues… (Bee shakes his head.) No, that’d still be good, because there isn’t one on Megatron’s grave! NOT THAT IT’S A GRAVE! Because it isn’t! 

Like- LOOK there’s something! (Bee tugs Smokescreen towards the bigger building.) Look! Look look look that way! 

/Smokescreen keeps running, squeezing Bee’s servo, not feeling any sort of exhaustion at this point./

Yeah! But what if he’s like… In someone else’s body? What if he took over an alternate somehow? What if he lost all his memories? Bee, he’s going to be okay- right? We’ll find his spark, and get him home, and get rid of Unicron.

/Smokescreen stops his train of thought, staring at the building they’ve run towards, looking for a door./

You think someone’ll be in here? It’s been pretty barren all this way- they wouldn’t have found his spark or something, right?

Think we can just knock? They might be surprised to have company, since it seems kinda dead here- we should’ve brought a drink for them.

The door is flat, sealed shut with a mag-lock. There is a camera just above it, looking down at the two intruders with its light on. Behind the door there stands the mech, watching the pair through a datafeed over his wrist. He is silent for now, still suspicious. Why they’re looking for him is unclear, though with the relic at the larger one’s side, he still guesses they’re some kind of hunters. He closes his optics for a moment, getting his bearings. As far as they know, no one is home.

ask-smokescreen:

the-scrappy-stinger:

(Bee watches Smokescreen’s optics and hones in when they really focus. He follows the line of sight, then climbs up Smokescreen’s shoulders to get a better look.) 

OH! Good optic! Come on, thatta way. Think it’ll be easier to drive or run? 

(Wait, driving means he’ll have to let go… and his hand’s pretty well locked into Smokescreen’s by now.) 

Uh… l-let’s run, together. You lead, Long-Legs. 

(Clambering back down holding someone’s hand is harder than going up, but he still settles back on the ground and is ready to go at Smokescreen’s running speed.) 

That way? Sounds good to me! … Running sounds fine. Think we’ll get a bit more info on what this place is?

/He didn’t want to be in his alt mode- and didn’t want to let go of Bee, either, really. He’s shifting a bit, so he has a better hold of the matrix, before taking off, keeping his speed up- he figures Bee will be fine!/

What’ll we do if we find someone there? What if we find Megatron here and he doesn’t want to leave? Think we can drag him back?

As the trail goes on, the sea of flowers thins just enough to reveal that there is space where grass grows between the statues. The chiming flowers are only an endless sea from the point they started at Megatron’s pedestal; clusters otherwise gather around each new one. There is a different name on each, and some of them have life-sized replicas of the mechs they represent. Dreadnaught, Seaspray, Sideswipe, there seems to be no rhyme or reason to their placement. The trail twists and winds past so many, and in the distance lays a building at its end.

~

He watches them from his screen for some time, until they begin to get too close for comfort. They are Autobots, but in his long life, he has learned that faction means little. He goes around, locking the doors to each section of his home. If they were artifact hunters, he would have to suffice; they would not get an ounce more.

 ask-smokescreen:

 the-scrappy-stinger:

(Drawing the natural conclusion, Bee staggers back as panic rips at his spark. He holds his check to keep his spark pulse under control. His other hand is an iron grip at Smokescreen’s fingers.) 

Megatron’s okay. We just have to find him. He’s fine.

We’ve gotta find the head office and figure out why this is here.

(A graveyard would have a head office, even if Megatron’s is the only grave.) 

You’re tall… d-do you see anything? 

/Smokescreen’s quick to grab a hold of Bumblebee, giving him a squeeze, trying to calm both of them down- his spark was stinging, but he kept on smiling. He’s gotta seem like he’s got it together, right?/

Bee! Bee- bee, wait. Maybe it’s… It’s maybe one made prematurely? He died a while back but came back- maybe someone got ahead of themselves.

/Smokescreen’s looking around, before standing on the pedestal with Megatron’s name to get a better look, trying to see if there’s anything- or anyone else- close enough./

Squinting along the horizon, one might see dots, the distant shapes of other pedestals amid the flowers. Some even appear to have statues standing atop them, and from a higher angle, a light trail is clear leading through them all, almost overgrown by the glowing plants. It leads South for what seems like forever. They are closer together at the horizon.

~

The mech has reached his home, a mighty sanctuary and stronghold several stories high with many generators along the outside. He glides past them, leaving them off for now but locking the only door behind him.

Without removing his cloak, the orange mech strides through the halls and into a control room, lined with ancient monitors that look brand new. They are as much a relic as he is. Typing a few numbers in, one of the screens changes to view the visitors to his quiet corner of the galaxy. There is no ship, no weapons drawn…

“Is that… A Matrix?”

A gentle morning breeze stirs the idyllic field of flowers. They stretch to the horizon in every direction, coating the ground in a peaceful shade of blue. It almost seems as if there should be birds singing here, but the only sound is something like gentle chimes every time the wind blows. The glowing flowers lazily clink together as they sway, unbroken under the cloudless sky for miles.

A pedestal rises from the flora, the base and plaque for an absent statue. It is the only constructed thing in view, and yet it seems to belong here, as if it grew right along with the flowers. What does not belong here is the rift that splits open the sky with a crackling energy, dropping two Cybertronians onto the ground in front of the pedestal. With a sound like popping static, the portal closes, leaving only the sound of chiming petals. Somehow, the unfortunate flowers underneath the mechs remain in-tact, pristine when they are revealed again.

Welcome.