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- Spirits of Vengeance
Skywarp's sleek violet and obsidian jet mode sliced through the wide azure skies of Opealon, leaving a trail of shimmering vapor in his wake. Below, the endless expanse of crystal-clear ocean glittered under the sun's harsh glare, interrupted only by the rare floating boulder or island, drifting aimlessly among the wispy, cotton-white clouds.
Even the stark natural beauty of this world, a world that seemed practically made for flying, couldn't shake the haunting memories that weighed on Skywarp's mind.
The shrieks of phantom kaiju echoed in the seeker's audials even now, accompanied by the deafening, titanic clash of fellow mecha battling to the death. And above all, he could still hear the sickening crunch and shattering of his wing-mate's spark chamber as it was crushed to glittering, tinkling shards in Megatron's iron fist; the recorded echo popping up in his processor again and again, like a fragging virus.
But that was then. This was now.
And right now, Warp was a mech on a mission.
His engines purred in a steady, determined hum as he scanned the relentless swell and crash of the deep blue waves far below, his heavy metal frame tingling from the salty sea spray. An intermittent ping, erratic and distorted from the vast stretch of Opealon's ocean, was his only guide—an unsteady buzz, a signal singing across his sensors that seemed to move and flit about as vigorously as the sparkling, white-capped breakers raging beneath him.
Still, no matter how dodgy or weak it was, it was a signal, and Warp was dead-set on pursuing it.
Every so often, the seeker would swoop low enough to tear through and startle a flock of seagulls circling above some island or another, causing a cacophony of panicked squawks and fluttering feathers to fill the air, the little prank momentarily distracting him from the serious mission at hand. But it was only a temporary diversion, and eventually Warp would subside, cruising along and returning to his endless scanning, scanning, scanning...
As day waned into night, the sun began its slow, meandering descent, painting the wavering horizon with an incandescent fusion of amber and crimson. The ocean below mirrored the fiery palette of the sky, rippling and undulating waves of molten gold stretching out as far as the seeker's scanners could sense.
And sure enough, just as Skywarp thought his tanks might be about to burn dry... his scanners picked up a faint, metallic glint among the waves. A flickering and silvery beacon, almost painfully vivid under the fading glow of dusk.
"Thank Primus," grumbled Warp, thoroughly annoyed that it had taken him this long to pin down the source of the flickering signal—TC's signal. His vocalizer crackled like garbling static around the words, having not been in use for at least mega-cycle.
Reinvigorated, Skywarp pushed his engines to the limit, the roar of his afterburners reverberating across the sky as his jet body hissed above the waves like an obsidian arrow. His optical sensors focused with a razor-sharp intensity on the horizon-line, the setting sun's reflection making the tiny speck of metal in the distance glimmer and dance, like something bobbing atop the waves.
Skywarp's scanners honed in on the object, his focus narrowing.
It almost looked like...
A boat?
Even the stark natural beauty of this world, a world that seemed practically made for flying, couldn't shake the haunting memories that weighed on Skywarp's mind.
The shrieks of phantom kaiju echoed in the seeker's audials even now, accompanied by the deafening, titanic clash of fellow mecha battling to the death. And above all, he could still hear the sickening crunch and shattering of his wing-mate's spark chamber as it was crushed to glittering, tinkling shards in Megatron's iron fist; the recorded echo popping up in his processor again and again, like a fragging virus.
But that was then. This was now.
And right now, Warp was a mech on a mission.
His engines purred in a steady, determined hum as he scanned the relentless swell and crash of the deep blue waves far below, his heavy metal frame tingling from the salty sea spray. An intermittent ping, erratic and distorted from the vast stretch of Opealon's ocean, was his only guide—an unsteady buzz, a signal singing across his sensors that seemed to move and flit about as vigorously as the sparkling, white-capped breakers raging beneath him.
Still, no matter how dodgy or weak it was, it was a signal, and Warp was dead-set on pursuing it.
Every so often, the seeker would swoop low enough to tear through and startle a flock of seagulls circling above some island or another, causing a cacophony of panicked squawks and fluttering feathers to fill the air, the little prank momentarily distracting him from the serious mission at hand. But it was only a temporary diversion, and eventually Warp would subside, cruising along and returning to his endless scanning, scanning, scanning...
As day waned into night, the sun began its slow, meandering descent, painting the wavering horizon with an incandescent fusion of amber and crimson. The ocean below mirrored the fiery palette of the sky, rippling and undulating waves of molten gold stretching out as far as the seeker's scanners could sense.
And sure enough, just as Skywarp thought his tanks might be about to burn dry... his scanners picked up a faint, metallic glint among the waves. A flickering and silvery beacon, almost painfully vivid under the fading glow of dusk.
"Thank Primus," grumbled Warp, thoroughly annoyed that it had taken him this long to pin down the source of the flickering signal—TC's signal. His vocalizer crackled like garbling static around the words, having not been in use for at least mega-cycle.
Reinvigorated, Skywarp pushed his engines to the limit, the roar of his afterburners reverberating across the sky as his jet body hissed above the waves like an obsidian arrow. His optical sensors focused with a razor-sharp intensity on the horizon-line, the setting sun's reflection making the tiny speck of metal in the distance glimmer and dance, like something bobbing atop the waves.
Skywarp's scanners honed in on the object, his focus narrowing.
It almost looked like...
A boat?