Fic: The Destruction of Cybertron

Sep 14, 2008 19:31

Title: "The Fall of the House of God"
Author: Kyra Neko-Rei
Rating: PG-13 for massive amounts of death and destruction. No named character death.
Characters: Ensemble. Hints of various pairings, but mainly genfic.
Warnings: Planetary annihilation, death of a multitude of unnamed characters, understandable amounts of despair and angst. Haunting narrow escapes.
Setting: Movieverse, Cybertron, mid-war.
Disclaimer: I own neither the planet, nor characters, nor the main event, although the specifics are mine.
Summary: The destruction of Cybertron, the loss of the Allspark, and the dispersal to the far reaches of space, and eventually Earth.



They can only watch, horrified, as their epic battle destroys the world.

Cybertron is broken, already---shattered and cratered and warped, metal dug from the ground to craft new bodies, new equipment, new fortified bases and shields, dragged up into the atmosphere to encircle and fortify the two sullen moons, so that the ground is a lacework mesh of caverns and voids all the way down to the melt; the energy at the planet's core has been tapped all their existence for what energy they don't get from the sun---lots, that is, and ever more since the war has started, with solar panels making such easy targets; they have sustained themselves on the heat beneath their pedes, the chemical deposits underground and the nuclear reactions at the core; they have drilled shafts down to that core itself, using force fields to hold aside the high-pressure molten metal at depth, and those take astounding amounts of energy just to stay functional; they have tapped the reactor and prodded it and zapped it according to their scientists' recommendations in the hopes that it may be persuaded to produce more.

It has taken surprisingly few vorns to push the planet to its limits.

It gets to the point where even Megatron begins to doubt, to wonder if the Allspark they perpetually struggle over can possibly hold enough power to restore the planet. He wonders if this is indeed the way to protect their kind, this war against his traitor Prime; he wonders if he should've done something or other differently---assassinated his wayward brother some time when they'd still been arguing rather than fighting, or allowed a truce earlier on in the war when it became clear that winning would take a hard toll, snuck the Allspark away and raced off to conquer the universe, or deferred that goal to his eventual successor, to someone who would not be brother to the Prime or to a successor Prime who was more amenable to conquest---but no; he is the Lord High Protector now; he must follow his mandate. Cybertron first; Cybertron only, when personal relationships threatened his resolve. His brother is a traitor, and for all that Megatron would plead for mercy to him before Primus when both are dead, they are now both living, and Optimus is a threat. Cybertron first, Cybertron forever, and if the long-term goal causes damage in the short term, well, it is tragic but unavoidable; the damage will be repaired once they have their victory.

Only someone's artillery has hit a core shaft, and the explosive forces are channeled downward like a shot fired from a projectile cannon, and something---no scientist will ever know just what---has acted as the catalyst they never found, and suddenly the energy produced by the planetary reactor is orders of magnitude greater than it was before.

Relays fuse and power stations go offline, fried by many times more energy than they were ever meant to handle. Both sides react to the loss of power thinking it an attack by the other, and pull out all the stops in a massive barrage of heavy fire. Autobots and Decepticons alike die at their stations as fortifications crumble and missiles explode among them.

Others run out, abandoning bases; they rush to close with their enemies among the open wastes, furious over the attacks, over dead friends, over the risk of defeat, and few heed or even notice the growing roar from below.

Those still at tactical stations do. In the center of one Autobot base, the Prime and his second realize what is happening; the small red scientist in conference with them whispers a prognosis, wide-opticked with horror. Optimus Prime gives an order on an army-wide frequency, and he and his companions make their way toward the launch bays.

He makes a second order, this one on a tightly controlled frequency that only a select few hear.

It is not always efficient to move large numbers of troops out into space by shuttle, and while many mechs can fly, many cannot. All of them can land, however, can make planetfall with no trouble, and for going the other direction, they fire themselves into the sky from launch tubes made for that purpose.

Megatron heads for his own launch bays. Soundwave makes the same announcement as the Prime did over the comm system, and follows.

Starscream is in the air, fury goading him to his utmost skill in aerial combat; he shoots down Autobot flyers like the wrath of Primus, like so many moving targets; behind him his Air Force does the same. Decepticons have always outclassed Autobots in the air, and it is never more apparent than now.

On the ground, things are more even; Autobots and Decepticons fall and die in more or less equal, distressingly large, numbers.

Weakened by radiation from below and beset upon by falling structures from above, the metal honeycomb of Cybertron's outer crust begins to shatter in places; the ground collapses beneath demolished bases.

Jazz reaches the Allspark, hidden strategically deep in the base, yet convenient to a quick way out; he snags it in his hands, transforms, and carries it through tunnels untouched since they were built. He hears the rumble beneath him, and moves faster.

Autobots turn and retreat from the battle. Other Autobots stay and fight, blind with rage and ignoring their Prime's orders. Decepticons, too, are of two minds; some remain to rend and maim and destroy; others heed Soundwave's directive and head for the launch sites.

Jazz meets Optimus and the gestalt team Defensor at the launch tubes; the combiner team is enthusiastically disconnecting one of the launch tubes and wrestling it into another one; the tube fires and off it goes, and immediately Streetwise follows it. One by one the others do as well.

The collapse is a chain reaction. Metal falls through the weakened shell of the planet and strike what remains of the supporting structure underneath, which also fails and plummets; the planet is a sphere, and each successive breaking point removes support from an ever-wider field of ground.

Megatron reaches the launch pad and climbs in. Sudden acceleration pulls at him, and then he is flying upwards through the atmosphere. He turns to look back at the planet, and wishes he hadn't.

In orbit, the Protectobots set up their launch tube. They turn the power all the way up, and Jazz places the Allspark into the tube. Optimus strokes it as Jazz passes him, blessing and apology and gesture of affection mixed in one. The Protectobots aim the tube, waving it about, waiting.

On the ground, fields full of combatants collapse; Autobots and Decepticons alike fall towards the center of Cybertron, some screaming and flailing, others still determinedly trying to kill each other on the way down.

In the air, flyers on both sides react in horror; they break apart and scatter upwards.

Five Autobot jets dive, thrusters at maximum; five, no, six falling Autobots waiting for a launch tube are caught in midair after the ground has fallen from beneath them. The one caught in Air Raid's grasp makes a valiant grab at another falling mech, and barely snags an armor plate; it is enough, and they all rise upwards, fighting gravity, following ally and enemy alike towards the sky.

Cybertron screams, and it occurs to Starscream to wonder if the planet itself is alive, or ever was. He is heading for the sky, for space; he has no idea where his wingmates are and he knows that the atmosphere of his home world will never bear him aloft again, and he sobs as the air thins and he approaches empty space.

For Megatron, the roar of the out-of-control core is like the wrath of an angry god, and doubt spears him like a plasma shot to the spark. Stronger than the despair, however, is devotion to duty, and one thought rings in his processor: The Autobots have the Allspark. He abruptly alters course, firing thrusters and demanding those nearest him follow as he flies toward the coordinates those at Prime's main base were likely to have gone.

Optimus Prime sees Megatron approaching, within visual range but still some distance away. He snaps out tense instructions to the Protectobots, pauses to listen to Perceptor, and issues more orders. Jazz and Prowl move protectively in front of their leader; sound cannot travel in space, but Jazz makes a rude gesture in Megatron's direction.

The Aerialbots have never been so happy to reach space, Air Raid especially, with two mechs in tow. Silverbolt is riding the near edge of panic, between the altitude and the concept of an infinite "down," but otherwise they are safe; the survivors of the Autobots are regrouping, and survivors from the other hemisphere are signaling from behind the planet's increasingly-volatile bulk. Prime commands, and they move further into space.

They cannot hear the planet roaring from up here, and it is surreal; Megatron offlines his optics against the hell below him and for half an instant pretends there's nothing wrong. There won't be, if he gets the Allspark. Then he forces himself to look again, and regrets it. The image of Cybertron laid open, core shining like a living spark, pains him like his brother's betrayal did vorns before, and he wonders if even the Allspark can erase it. "Primus, why?" The agonized words are lost in the vacuum of space, and he wonders if Primus can even hear them.

Perceptor watches, scanning and calculating.

Optimus watches, his spark aching as it had when he'd lost Megatron to his crusade.

Starscream flies blindly, following his sensors to the nearest grouping of Decepticons, longing already for air against his wings.

Fireflight looks into the grateful optics of the mech he's saved. Bumblebee smiles back at him. "Nice catch," comes over the commlink, and Fireflight smiles too.

Jazz and Prowl cling to each other, the planet's fate less important than each other's.

Blades and Groove swing the launch tube barrel randomly, this way and that.

Megatron divides his attention between the horror below and the Allspark just a few kliks away.

And the planet explodes.

Blades hits the delayed-fire command on the launcher. Groove gives the barrel a gentle tap, pushing himself away.

The shockwave hits.

Somewhere in the maelstrom of energy, the launch tube fires, and the Allspark arcs out into space. Megatron attempts to track it, but he is tumbling wildly and blinded by so much radiation that the stars are invisible, and he has no point of reference.

By the time he comes to himself it is long gone, and for a moment he knows only despair. But an instant later he knows the Allspark survived; he saw it, for that single fateful instant, spinning off into Primus-knows-where.

It takes some time to regroup his forces, and some more time to arrange to scatter them to the stars, but he manages. The Autobots keep to themselves, taking stock of their own situation. Megatron leaves them alone; he can't face them right now.

Starscream meanders through the assembled Decepticons, searching, half for his wingmates, half, unreasoning, for Skyfire.

Optimus looks back at the void where his homeworld used to be, and then to the void where the Allspark had vanished. If he has a home any more, if they have a home, it is out there, somewhere. He just hasn't found it yet.

Sunstreaker clasps Sideswipe to him, trembling at the specter of how close he'd come to losing his twin. He wonders who the jet was, who'd caught him at just the right angle for him to catch Sideswipe and carried them up to safety. He hadn't even gotten a good look. "Primus bless you with all you desire," he murmurs. Sideswipe returns the embrace, watching Air Raid as he regroups with his own siblings.

A blue jet flies up to Starscream, a black and purple one right behind him. They fall easily into formation with him, left and right, energy fields soothing, and Starscream slows, accepting their presence.

Megatron looks back at the wreckage of Cybertron one last time. Then he looks forward, into space. The Allspark is out there, waiting: Cybertron's reconstruction, if only he can find it. He gives the order, and the Decepticon army disperses, fanning out along its potential trajectories. He will find it. He has to.

The Autobots follow. They have to, too.

transformers, fic

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