Chapter Text
There was no pain.
There was no grief.
There was no past and no future, only this infinite moment.
There was no up or down, no cold, no heat. There was no light and no darkness.
There was no space and no time. There was only peace. The anguish and regret and despair that had haunted him for millions of years were at last silent.
He would have stayed in that moment forever, if he could.
*
Orion roused himself slowly, processor sluggish from deep recharge, phantom memories of … of silence, of stillness, of peace, fading like mist before the sun as he swung his legs over the edge of the berth and sat up.
He tried to cling to those phantom memories as he moved through the shuttle from berth to cockpit, but they were fleeting, ephemeral; the harder he tried, the faster they fell apart, until he gave it up with a weary sigh and focused on the work at hand. There would be time for contemplation later, perhaps.
*
Megatron was up and moving as soon as his internal chronometer signaled that his on-shift was shortly to begin. It would have taken a much closer observer than any of his current companions – closer and with much longer familiarity – to notice that his attention was not fully engaged in his actions; that his processor was still caught ever so slightly by fading memories (memories of silence, of stillness, of safety and … and peace) from his off-shift recharge cycle.
Megatron mentally shook himself free of those lingering impressions and brought his focus to bear fully on his current tasks. There was no time for foolishness; there never had been, and that fact, at least, had remained the same despite all the other changes in his life.
*
There was no pain.
There was no sorrow, no grief, no regret over a past that here, in this moment, did not exist; no fear or despair for a future that could not touch him.
There was silence, and safety, and peace.
And then, slowly, there was a sense of … emptiness. Of something missing.
*
The time and space between the stars ceased to matter when your voyage had no actual purpose, no goal, no sense of urgency. Orion tried to remember if this particular journey had ever had those things, and could not.
Interstellar space offered no answers, only the chance to finally ask questions of himself.
*
Quantum engines were all well and good when they were actually working; but without an actual heading, they were effectively flying blind through the vastness of the universe in search of something that might not even exist.
Megatron refused to allow himself to think about the futility of this so-called quest. It might have looked, at first glance, like an opportunity to stave off execution while giving himself time and space to reconnoiter, but that didn’t mean he was actually sanguine about spending the rest of his existence wandering aimlessly through the cosmos. Not with this crew, at least.
He shrugged off the specters of isolation and loneliness and headed for the bridge. He had work to do.
Surely, on a ship this size, there was work he could do.
*
There was no pain.
There was no grief.
There was no despair.
There was no time or space, no urgency, no regret. There was silence, and stillness, and peace.
And … there was loneliness.
There were no names here and no memories, but still his spark reached out, yearning for something it could not identify and could never forget.
*
Orion woke himself by reaching out for something … something important?
Something missing.
*
Megatron woke to find himself standing by the door of his hab, the sense of something missing still lingering in his processor.
He refused to think about what it might be.
*
There was no pain.
There was no grief.
There was … there was …
There was an absence.
There was no time and no space here in this infinite moment, and yet he found himself reaching for something.
For someone.
He found himself calling, and waiting for a response.
*
Orion paced, as much as he could in a shuttle this size. He needed to recharge, but found himself reluctant to do so, as if he had been having bad dreams that he could not remember.
He was beginning to wonder if he was lonely.
*
Megatron pushed himself to avoid recharge for as long as possible, until he knew that continuing to do so would leave him unfit for command; until he knew that the medical staff was eyeing him speculatively; until he could see Rodimus hovering, waiting to see him frag up.
He retreated to his berth with his dignity intact, and carefully did not think on why he did not want to recharge.
*
There was no time or space here, and yet there was movement.
There was no up or down, no heat or cold, no past or future; and yet something had changed.
He was no longer alone. There, on the farthest edges of perception, on the distant rim of cognition, there was a sense of someone else.
Someone reaching back.
Someone answering.
*
Orion closed the subspace comm link, and sat back in the pilot’s seat. He had coordinates, a time and a place.
The Lost Light was waiting.