Chapter Text
Cosmos had done some crazy things in his life. None of it was anything to write home about, but it was the most he could say he had done with himself.
He had never been a Prime, but he did save the Cloudlings of Nimbus VI from the Hordes of Hazzak. He had never been in the Wreckers, but he was in the Elite Guard... not like that meant much nowadays.
But today, he was doing something no bot but a select few had done before: He was visiting the Muta-Gaath Nebula.
Located deep within the Neutral Territories, the volatile nebula was said to be the current hiding place of Omega Supreme, last of the Omega Sentinels. Omega had sealed himself away in the Muta-Gaath shortly before the First Great War and had only been visited twice since then: Once by Sentinel Prime after war, then by Zeta Prime during the Exodus.
When Thunderwing first went on his Dark Energon-induced rampage, Omega answered the call of Optimus Prime and did battle with the mad Decepticon. Once Thunderwing had been defeated however, Omega Supreme retreated back into the nebula and had not been heard from since.
Many things had happened since the Cataclysm, from Unicron to the reemergence of Thunderwing. But now Cybertron was at peace once more, with Autobots, Decepticons and colonists united under a new council. It would be a shame for someone as ancient as Omega Supreme to not bear witness to such an age.
Per tradition, only the Prime was only ever allowed to enter the nebula. But Cosmos was determined to go against the precedent. For too long had he allowed himself to be sidelined by others. It was time he made a name for himself in the history records.
His entire frame sparked in pain as he pushed himself through the violent storms of the Muta-Gaath. In time though, he soon found the sole celestial body located within the nebula: an artificial asteroid that was usually hidden from prying sensors... yet somehow he was able to see it as clear as day without even needing the improved scanner Brainstorm had equipped him with.
Not about to question his fortune, Cosmos quickly sped over to the rock and landed. After sparing a moment for a few system repairs, he began making his way towards the spire that held the legendary giant.
Cosmos couldn't help but feel giddy. He almost couldn't believe he was actually here; to be walking ground tread by so few. Surely that alone earned one's name a spot in the Covenant of Primus.
Reaching the end of the long, massive hallway, Cosmos approached the giant doors that led into the chamber of Omega Supreme. Although they were mostly closed, there was a gap just big enough for his small frame to squeeze through. Stepping into the chamber, Cosmos suddenly realized that he hadn't prepared a speech or any means as to introducing himself.
He quickly saw that that would not be necessary.
The green minibot froze in shock at the sight before him. Laying in a crumpled heap was the mighty Omega Supreme. His entire body was riddled with cracks and exposed circuitry and his entire left arm was missing. Only the faint blue glow in his optics gave any indication that he still functioned.
"Omega Supreme!" Cosmos rushed over to the giant, all but dwarfed by him in size. "What happened to you? Who... did someone do this to you?"
"Prpr," Omega Supreme uttered, static ripping from his voice box.
"Don't worry, just... save your energy. I've got a direct line to Cybertron that bypasses the nebula. I'll get you help in no time."
"Cnfrnt."
"What...." Cosmos looked up at him in confusion. "What are you saying?"
"Rpl."
Omega Supreme's optics flickered as he repeated this string of words. Then again... and again... all while Cosmos simply stood there, not sure if he had just made history for better... or for worst.
THE POWERS THAT BE
Part 1: Cry for Yesterday
Rodimus Prime had known Ratchet long enough to know when the doctor had bad news. Even when the old medic tried to hide it in his expression, Rodimus could just tell by the way he moved that whatever he was about to say was not going to be something he wanted to hear.
Just as Ratchet opened his mouth to speak, Rodimus raised a hand. "Just give it to me straight, doc," the young Prime said quietly. "How is he?"
Ratchet frowned as he looked down at his datapad. "Not good, to put it simply. His brain module has not spiked since he shut off, which at this stage is a very bad sign. In addition, his innermost energon has curdled, and his t-cog--"
"All right, all right, I've heard enough." Rodimus sighed as he shuttered his optics. "So what are our options," he asked, already dreading the answers.
"At this point, we only have two choices: Either we shut him off now... or we continue to let him wither away."
"You realize that going either route would leave me guilty as hell."
Ratchet shook his head. "Believe me, you have no idea how hard it is for me to even say it. I wish there was a better option, but--"
"Hold that thought." Rodimus turned away from the doctor as he raised a hand to his comm, looking disgruntled. "Blaster, I told you I was going to be busy."
"Sorry, boss-bot, but it's important," Blaster replied. "Cosmos just called from the Muta-Gaath Nebula and--"
"Whoa, whoa, hold up," Rodimus said. "Cosmos? The Muta-Gaath? As in the Muta-Gaath? Omega Supreme's little hiding place?"
"The one and only," Blaster said. "And it's funny you bring up Omega Supreme...."
"Why do you say that?"
"Well, apparently Cosmos has found the Big O himself... and let me tell ya, we're gonna need a big ship."
* * *
"God, I am so bored."
Battletrap did not give his fellow guard the satisfaction of a response, remaining as stoic as he had been since the start of his shift. Undeterred, the red and gray Autobot rolled his shoulders as he relieve tension in his pistons.
"I mean, I get it, someone's gotta do it," Windcharger said. "But by Primus is it uneventful... which I suppose is the entire point, but still."
By his count, Battletrap had gotten to fifty-five in his head. So far, so good. Just don't blow it.
"And while I get the whole 'better be safe than sorry' thing... the guy's still dead. Like, Elita totaled him with the Star Saber. It was awesome. You should have seen it."
Sixty-seven. Don't snap, don't snap.
Windcharger looked up at the Duocon, as if just realizing the latter had yet to say a single word. "You're not much of a talker, are you?"
Battletrap wondered if he could get away with muting his audio sensors. Surely that would be more acceptable than tearing the Autobot's head off.
"Sorry, it's just the nerves," Windcharger murmured, resting his head against the door which they were guarding. "Standing in front of a room occupied by a dead guy who looks like your former leader... it gets to you, you know? Feels like at any moment, there's gonna be a--"
There was a knock at the door.
Both guards fell dead silent. For the first time since his shift began, Battletrap glanced at Windcharger, who looked stricken with horror.
"It wasn't just me who heard that, was it?" the Autobot asked.
Battletrap said nothing, counting the minutes as he waited for it to happen again. After five minutes, he was about to conclude that it had simply been a trick on the audio sensors... then he heard it again.
"Okay," Windcharger said, slowly raising a hand to his comm. "I think now's a good time to call for backup."
For the first time in his life, Battletrap found himself agreeing with an Autobot.
* * *
"Oh no."
Ratchet froze in his tracks as he stepped back into the medbay. First Aid and Kaput were both huddled over their sole patient, desperately looking over their scanners and readings.
"This can't be right," Kaput was saying, running a hand over his helm. "The scanner must be reading wrong."
"His t-cog's stopped spinning," First Aid reported. "Brain module isn't showing any readings."
As Ratchet carefully approached them, Kaput spun on his single wheel with a distressed look on his face.
"I... I don't understand! I thought for sure the body would sustain his spark for another few years until we restored his old one! I... I don't--"
Ratchet placed a hand on Kaput's shoulder, his expression sad yet passive. "It's not your fault, old friend. It's not your fault." He then turned to First Aid. "Time."
First Aid looked up at him. "What?"
"Give me the time, First Aid, so I can tell Rodimus."
"I...." The Protectobot lowered his head in sorrow. "84:19."
"All right. Shut everything off." Ratchet let out a heavy sigh. "Let the record show that Orion Pax of Tyger Pax died on the sixth chord of Cycle 9816 at 84:19, solar cycle seven...."
* * *
Each knock was more aggressive than the last. Battletrap tightened his grip on his gun, while Windcharger continued to yell into his comm.
"I'm serious, Ironhide! Something's banging on the-- Yes, I know he's dead! I don't know if it's Guiltaur; only that something big and angry is knocking from inside!"
Another knock created a fist size indent in the door. Battletrap snaked a finger around the trigger, ready to press down.
"Look, can't you just send someone down?" Windcharger pleaded. "I don't care if you send Autotroopers or Vehicons, just send someone down here before--"
Without warning, an arm tore through the door, ending with a large black fist. Windcharger blanched as the being it belonged to began to create an opening for itself.
"...Aw, scrap."
Battletrap roared as he unloaded his gun but Guiltaur was anything but intimidated. The fusion quickly tore our of its room before lunging at the Duocon. Windcharger could only watch in horror as Guiltaur seized Battletrap and tore him in half at the waist.
"No." Dropping his call with Ironhide, Windcharger raised his hands and emitted a magnetic wave, bolting Guiltaur's feet to the floor. As the fusion thrashed in place, Windcharger considered using his powers to tear the monster to pieces.
It would be immoral, yes. And Elita-One had request Guiltaur be kept together so that Optimus Prime's body could be properly restored... but at this point, what choice did he have?
Just as he was about to make his decision, Windcharger caught movement in the corner of his optics. Looking down, he saw that the two halves of Battletrap were moving, shifting into new forms....
"What the...?" Windcharger was caught off-guard by this and, without thinking, he dropped his magnetic hold on Guiltaur.
He only had a second to realize his mistake before Guiltaur was standing mere inches away from him, hand tightly gripped around his head....
* * *
Ironhide could hear Windcharger's agonized screams from all the way down the hall. Quickening his pace, he and his team of Autotroopers rushed down to the morgue's lower levels, where he knew Guiltaur was being held.
"Barricade, put all sectors on lock-down!" he barked into his comm. "We've got an escapee on level five! Yes, you heard me! Look, just do as I say!"
No sooner had he given those orders when Ironhide and his team finally reached the scene of the crime. The door to Guiltaur's chamber had been torn open and there was a large pool of energon in front of it, which Windcharger now laid in, his head crushed. There was no sign of Guiltaur himself; only a pair of Decepticons that stood where Battletrap should have been, looking confused and horrified.
Upon being faced with a dozen guns and angry glares, each Duocon pointed to the other.
"He did it!"