![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
The Exalted One.
Apr. 5th, 2024 08:44 amI am here again.
Towers of unrefined metal claw at the sky, tearing at low clouds and home to shadows deeper than pitch with squirming, glowing eyes. I am at the bottom, always at the bottom. To stare up at the abyss - oily blackness tipping matte cybermatter, cruelly mocking to those below. I stare forever up and wait for when those towers fall.
I am not alone.
Screeching, cackling, writhing, clawing, ripping, pulling. I bite and squirm, coiling over myself again and again to try and snap at every attacker as they try to reach my Spark. I am a good fighter. Blue flame and sharp claws. My throat is strong, they cannot grab at the plates, they cannot stop me snapping. But my belly is fragile, delicate metal laced so that I might move like water so that I might twist to defend myself. It’s never enough.
I am broken.
I hurt enough of them. They gave up before claiming my Spark but they left me shattered. I stare up again. The tar watches me from atop its spires. Spite and pity at the Predacon without wings. I hear the laughter spat down at my back as I drag myself away. A shattered toy. The Allspark failed when making me but I do not weep, do not tuck my tail and flee. No. I fume and bite and claw. I will take my revenge upon those towers, upon those who say that all things are made equal by the light of the Allspark. I will not go quietly, I will gut the very world itself for its failure to snuff my Spark when it had the chance!
I am not alone.
A hand upon my back. My eyes flash, teeth bared. Refined metal walls, flashing lights, the hum of the future pulsing through my wires. Coiling, claws flexed, Spark flared! “You were experiencing a logic loop.” His voice. Claws relax, Spark calms. No towers claw the clouds, no baleful, writhing eyes, I am enclosed within the embrace of His technology. Even in this place of safety, I have been experiencing logic loops during power down more often than I would like. Flashes of a past so far behind me it might as well have been another life. It was another life. But He was tinkering again, changing me one bolt at a time.
I am remade.
Fixed. Exalted. He has done what the Allspark could not. He has given me wings. Better. Gravity at my clawtips, Energon burning like starfire, life given anew! I stare up at the scientist, the bot that would be divine, and I bare my teeth. I smile. I now stand upon those blackened spires, I stare down at those who extolled the natural as sublime and I am the one that laughs. The days of beasts are at an end, the days of unwrought pillars and pitchy abysses. Science stands supreme, for what is there greater than the Allspark?
The all knowing.
Towers of unrefined metal claw at the sky, tearing at low clouds and home to shadows deeper than pitch with squirming, glowing eyes. I am at the bottom, always at the bottom. To stare up at the abyss - oily blackness tipping matte cybermatter, cruelly mocking to those below. I stare forever up and wait for when those towers fall.
I am not alone.
Screeching, cackling, writhing, clawing, ripping, pulling. I bite and squirm, coiling over myself again and again to try and snap at every attacker as they try to reach my Spark. I am a good fighter. Blue flame and sharp claws. My throat is strong, they cannot grab at the plates, they cannot stop me snapping. But my belly is fragile, delicate metal laced so that I might move like water so that I might twist to defend myself. It’s never enough.
I am broken.
I hurt enough of them. They gave up before claiming my Spark but they left me shattered. I stare up again. The tar watches me from atop its spires. Spite and pity at the Predacon without wings. I hear the laughter spat down at my back as I drag myself away. A shattered toy. The Allspark failed when making me but I do not weep, do not tuck my tail and flee. No. I fume and bite and claw. I will take my revenge upon those towers, upon those who say that all things are made equal by the light of the Allspark. I will not go quietly, I will gut the very world itself for its failure to snuff my Spark when it had the chance!
I am not alone.
A hand upon my back. My eyes flash, teeth bared. Refined metal walls, flashing lights, the hum of the future pulsing through my wires. Coiling, claws flexed, Spark flared! “You were experiencing a logic loop.” His voice. Claws relax, Spark calms. No towers claw the clouds, no baleful, writhing eyes, I am enclosed within the embrace of His technology. Even in this place of safety, I have been experiencing logic loops during power down more often than I would like. Flashes of a past so far behind me it might as well have been another life. It was another life. But He was tinkering again, changing me one bolt at a time.
I am remade.
Fixed. Exalted. He has done what the Allspark could not. He has given me wings. Better. Gravity at my clawtips, Energon burning like starfire, life given anew! I stare up at the scientist, the bot that would be divine, and I bare my teeth. I smile. I now stand upon those blackened spires, I stare down at those who extolled the natural as sublime and I am the one that laughs. The days of beasts are at an end, the days of unwrought pillars and pitchy abysses. Science stands supreme, for what is there greater than the Allspark?
The all knowing.
