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Pain. Pain. Pain.
It was all he felt, submerged and floating within the Well of Allspark, deep within Cybertron. With his dermas frozen wide open, a silent scream tore from his voice box. Its force pulled a strain on his intake, the metal cracking and splitting apart.
Pain, pain, pain.
How long has it been? Kilks? Breems? Surely, not longer than that?
He wasn’t sure. He’d lost track of time long ago. Or, not that long ago.
It wasn’t a priority.
PAIN. PAIN. PAIN.
It was blinding and numbing. He couldn’t move. Not a twitch or shift. Not even his faceplates would move. He was stuck, submerged and floating within the Well of Allspark, with his eyes wide open, staring up, or down... did it really matter?
He could see many sparks spewing out from what remained of the Allspark still in his frame, settling into the Well or shooting out of it, onto Cybertron’s surface. However, it wasn’t as many as it was when he first plunged into the core. Maybe tens at most where leaving his frame.
His frame continued to crack, and he was sure that a part of him was about to break off. He was disintegrating, being broken down by the very place that had given him life.
He didn’t remember his first dive into the Well being this painful. But then again, he carried the Allspark. He carried the birthplace of all life on Cybertron, and it was tearing his frame apart to reunite with its home.
PAIN.
PAIN.
PAIN.
He wanted to cry, scream, or shout for the desperate wish that maybe someone could hear him, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t possible. His neural system shut down the moment he came into contact with the Well. It was the first of-
A portal opened. Right above him. It wasn’t green like a ground bridge or space bridge. It was energon blue with streaks of smoky purple, silver, and gold.
The colors were recognizable but his processor... He couldn’t pinpoint where he had seen them before. The Allspark continued its wreckage across his frame, its power being too much for it. He was breaking apart, inside and out.
His processor must be glitching out.
A smoke purple servo reached out towards him. His optics couldn’t follow it but it seemed to be going for his spark chamber.
He panicked. The Allspark- He couldn’t let... whatever this was, get to it.
But he couldn’t move. He couldn’t do anything. Despite the power of the Allspark sitting within him, he couldn’t do anything. He was useless.
The servo made contact with his exposed spark chamber, merged with the Matrix that had yet to leave him. The touch was instantly soothing, and the EM field radiating from it was the final piece Optimus needed to know who this was. It was comforting and solemn, just as he remembered it. One of the few things he remembered when he was once “Thirteen.”
Solus-?
The gentle touch became a strong grip. Ser servo tightened around his spark chamber. He felt the force se manifested as se dug ser digits into the seams of the chamber.
WAIT-
With a force greater than a gladiator’s, Solus Prime tore out his spark chamber, separating it from the Matrix’s spark chamber to its original chamber. To the shape that belonged to the Thirteen Prime, who’s true name was erased from history permanently. To the shape of the archivist, Orion Pax. In the same instant, his vision went out, immediately going black.
《 ◇ ——————— • ——————— ◇》
When se tore Optimus’ spark chamber out of his deteriorating frame, the portal closed. Solus caught a glimpse of the other’s protoform breaking apart, knowing it would crumble away into nothing but specks of metal within the Well.
Why? se wondered, cradling the cracked spark chamber within ser servos. Why were you there, being torn apart by the Allspark, for orbital cycles?
It was a cruel fate ser friend faced. Oh, ser old friend, the Thirteenth Prime. Why had fate decided to give him a long painful death? Why couldn’t it gone faster so he wouldn’t have suffered for much longer? The descent into the Allspark should never be a torturous experience for the sparks returning home, yet it was for the Thirteenth Prime.
The Thirteenth Prime, who wished to become like the Cybertronians succeeding them to understand them when he voluntarily fell into the Allspark years ago, who continued to speak and practice the concepts of unity and all becoming one, no matter what life he took, didn’t deserve to go that way.
Se didn’t want to think, let alone consider, about how much longer he would’ve been there had se not intervened. The shrieks tearing out of the spark was enough to deter ser processor away from those thoughts.
His cries became loud and agonizing when the spark chamber crumbled, freeing him from his little cage. He was free to fly away and do what he wanted, but he didn’t. His EM field sent pulses of distress and fright, to which se soothed with ser own touch, lightly petting the spark.
The cries softened, becoming confused chirps.
“You may rest now, Optimus,” se whispered, bringing the spark to ser faceplates. The being perked up, and he beamed moments later, sending more pulses through his fields.
Solus? it read. It’s you! It’s you!
Of course, it is, Optimus, se sent back. Welcome home, old friend.
Bright chirps filled the area around them, the sound ricocheting from non-existent walls. The realm was known amongst the Primes for making no sense, an infinite space that could become anything and anytime upon the command of a Prime. But for now, it was an open infinite space full of thick fog covering the ground. A space that would allow Optimus to roam freely in his present form until his spark could handle projecting its hologram.
A space where Optimus would be until the others had enough and would inevitably approach him about the mission they had for him.
Oh, Prima, se prayed as se stood up on ser stabilizing struts and wandered into the fog, cradling Optimus against ser chassis. Please keep them away from him, for as long as possible.