Chapter Text
Velocity loved her creators.
Even in the middle of the war, with mechs screaming and dying close by, it was the simple truth she’d known from the moment she’d first come online.
They lived on the Nemesis. Which honestly, was not very good place for raising sparklings. But Breakdown and Knockout did everything they could to give their bitlets at least little bit of a normal childhood without worries.
Their shared quarters were sparkling-proof and felt like home. A place, where kids could be kids without worrying about bumping into short-tempered soldiers. There was a big berth for Knockout, Breakdown and Velocity and two small cribs for twins, Dash and Rev. The whole room smelled like coolant and medic-grade polish, and it was always warm thanks to the heater, that Breakdown installed for the kid’s comfort. The floor was constantly scattered with toys, that Breakdown found during his mission on different planets and walls covered with Velocity’s childish drawings.
The children resembled their creators a lot. Velocity was a petite red grounder with bright yellow optics, and a spark that shone too much for a warship like the Nemesis. The twins, bulkier and painted mostly blue, resembled their sire at first glance, but they carried their carrier’s bright red optics too.
Velocity favourite spot on the whole ship, though, always had been the medical bay. She often found herself quietly watching her carrier operate. Not disgusted. Not scared. Just… curious. Intrigued. She sat, not making a move, her tiny, bright optics watching every hand movement, every swing of the scalpel, every twitch of cables.
"Vel, sweetspark, could you please bring me-?“ Knockout didn’t even finish before Velocity was already stumbling to his side, holding out the required tool with both little servos.
Knockout smiled proudly at her. "Well, well, well. Aren’t you a smart pretty little thing. Just like your carrier. At this rate, I’ll have no choice but to retire. “
Velocity giggled at that and helped herself on the medical stool. "When Sire come back?”
Knockout kept quiet and working on the laying bot on his operation berth for a few seconds, then turned to her with a smile. "Soon, sweetspark. Soon. Why don’t you check in the meantime if your little brothers are already up? “
"Okayyy,” Velocity whined, not waiting to leave the operation so soon, but she obeyed anyway. She jumped down from the chair and left the medical bay.
The path from the medical bay to their quarters was only few minutes long and she knew exactly how to behave. Her creators had drilled it into her tiny helm ever since she could walk on her own. Don’t look up at the bots, keep out of their way, don’t talk to them, don’t interact with them, don’t provoke them in any way. Just keep moving out their way and hope that you won’t offend them. She kept saying that mantra in her head over and over, until she finally arrived at their quarters. She quickly pushed the door open and slipped into the room. It was quiet, the twins seemed to be still recharging.
She was surprised to see a small figure sitting in one of the chairs. "Freefall? Whatcha doin’ here?”
The little aerial just putted down a book he was reading and grinned at her. "Needed to hide for a bit.”
Velocity tilted her head but didn’t need more explanation. She knew Freefall well enough. She padded over, and he helped her climb onto the chair beside him. It was just big enough to fit them both.
"You will get in trouble again, you know” She chirped, paddles swinging.
"Not if they don’t notice that I am gone. They almost never do.”
"Hmm. You should just move here with me."
Freefall chuckled softly, though there was no real humour in it "If I could, I would.”
"Whatcha readin’?”
"History of Vos. Before it felt.”
"Sounds borin’.”
"Well, it’s definitely better than your medical… whatever those things are. "
The two of them chippered for a bit and eventually managed to wake up the twins. Freefall, not waiting to deal with babies, quickly slipped away and Velocity was left alone to feed, wash and entertain her little brothers, while her carrier worked and her sire was out. Doing … Velocity didn’t know what exactly. Carrier never told her anything on that topic and sire was the same. Only Freefall had said once that Breakdown was fighting some bad mechs. Some evil bots. Autobots? If Velocity remembered correctly. Who were they? She didn’t know. But Freefall told her they were enemies, and they hurt sire, so they must be evil, she thought.
It was already evening, when the door to their quarters slid open, with Breakdown moving into the room. Velocity, surrounded by her toys, turned around and quickly wobbled towards him. "Sire!” she squealed, expected to be scooped into his arms.
But before she even got to him, her gaze followed to the energon leaping from his arm he desperately tried to hide behind his back. His frame bore scratches, armour dented in several places, and he looked—more than anything—bone-deep exhausted.
Velocity’s optics went wide with fear. "You hurt ‘gain “Her voice was quiet, trembling.
Breakdown smiled weekly at her, crouching down so he was closer to her level despite the pain the movement clearly caused. He kissed the top of her little helm. "I am fine Vel. Don’t worry. It’s just a few scratches”.
"It’s too something.” She insisted her little servos shaking and already trying to reach his injured arm, as if she could fix it herself. "You leakin’.”
But before Breakdown could answer, Knockout appeared in the doorway with stern look on his face, optics narrowing sharply. "Why in the pit didn’t you come to the medical bay first ??"
Breakdown smiled weakly at him."You were already way too busy with other bots. “
" Scrap other bots! They could all melt for all I care! “ Knockout raised his voice in anger.
Breakdown stood up from crouching next to Velocity and went to hug his conjux. "Sorry love. But I am really fine, it’s nothing. Nothing like last time.”
Knockout melted into his embrace and kissed him welcome. "I will be judge to that. Now sit your aft down on the berth.”
"Knocks. Language.”
"Oh please, like they don’t already hear it every time they step outside the quarters. Now, do I have to repeat myself?” He was already rampaging through the drawers, looking for his medical kit. "And keep the arm outside the sheets, or you will be sleeping on them”.
"I know I know” Breakdown chuckled, went to greet his little twins, who giggled at him, and sat on the berth.
Knockout moved next to him, already scanning the injuries with practiced optics. "Vel, keep your brothers busy and away from the filth your sire so graciously brought”.
"But I wanna help ! “
"With your servos shaking like that ? I don’t think so, sweetspark. You need much more practice first. Be a good girl and I will let you help me with the next Vehicon with broken limbs. “
" … I just wanna make sure that Sire’s fine.” She mumbled.
" And you will. But give it a time. You don’t want to accidentally hurt your sire, don’t you? “
" … No.”
"See? Now hush. I see Dash trying to lick the floor”.
Velocity squeaked and quickly peddled to scoop her brother and dragged him from the energon stained floor. With the corner of her optic, she observed her creators interaction. They spoke quietly; her ears could not make out what they were saying. Knockout moved with millions of years experience. And ever so gently. She ever saw him move like that with her, her brothers and Breakdown. Breakdown, in turn, watched Knockout with such a soft, open expression that it made her tiny spark ache.
They truly loved each other, Velocity thought. But what is exactly love? Sometimes, she caught glimpses of bots flirting on the Nemesis, but it didn’t look the same. This love was different. Did she love her creators like that? No, she didn’t think so. Rev and Dash? Ew, no. Freefall ? Well … she loved him, she was sure of that, but it wasn’t the same thing. This was too confusing for her little helm.
"Vel? Velocity?” Sounded somewhere distantly and Velocity woke up from her daydreaming.
"Nemesis to Vel, ya here with us ?"
"Yea, I was just thinking.”
Knockout was already cleaning his supplies. "Yea, I saw that. You must be getting tired. When was the last time you ate ?“
"… Eh… “
Knockout sighted. "Come on Vel, we talked about this. You were too busy keeping optics on your brothers to eat yourself, didn’t you ?”
Velocity had at least the decency to look guilty.
Knockout looked at her sternly, before his optics softened. "You are too kind. Putting others well beings before yourself all the damn time. Go, go eat with your sire and I will clean in the meantime”.
Breakdown started to protest," I will clean, you worked all day”.
"So have you, love. Now go,” Breakdown sighted, already knowing that he can’t outargue his conjux, cupped Velocity up with his undamaged servo and sited her on his shoulder. Velocity squeaked and curled into side of his neck. She was still the perfect size to carry like this. Breakdown lived in fear of the day he wouldn’t be able to hold his perfect little femme like that.
They headed outside the quarters, towards the mess hall.
"Sire ? “
" What’s up, lil ’ bit.”
"… Did the bad bots do that to you?”
Breakdown stopped in his tracts. "Where’d you hear things like that?”
"Freefall.”
Breakdown groaned "Of course it was Freefall. You hang around that bitlet too much. He is definitely going to corrupt you”.
"Sireee. “ Velocity whined. " Stop that. I like Freefall. And he’s not gonna – corrupt me. Whatever that means. And don’t change the subject! Did the bad bots do that to you?! Cause I don’t like ‘em. When I get big, I’m gonna smash all the bad bots so they can’t hurt you anymore.”
Breakdown chuckled "Wouldn’t doubt that. But… Yea. You see, its … complicated. They hurt me, but I hurt them too. “
" Why ??”
"That’s not something you should be bothered about for now. I will tell you when you are older. “
" You tell me that all the time”.
" And I mean it. And if Freefall says something again, you will tell me or your carrier, got it?”
" Yea, yea. Kay” She absolutely would not, but sire didn’t need to know that.
The mess hall was quieter than usual, the hum of the Nemesis’s engines was filling the space more than the few conversations happening around the room. Breakdown stepped inside with Velocity perched on his shoulder, her tiny servos holding onto the side of his helm like she was riding some kind of amusement ride.
" Wanna have the usual ? “
" yes please!” she chirped.
Breakdown set her down carefully on a chair at an empty table, away from the louder groups, before heading off to pour two cubes of energon. Velocity sat swinging her peds, optics wandering curiously. Two bots were screaming at each other, she didn’t remember ever seeing these two. A few others watched the argument with poorly hidden amusement. Most mechs were minding their own business, eating quickly and quietly.
Suddenly, she spotted a familiar blue frame. “Uncle!” she squeaked, waving frantically.
Thundercracker’s expression softened into a smile as he walked over. “Well, hello, little one. Haven’t seen you out here in a while. You’ve already grown so much.”
"I’m still too small. “ She pouted. "Freefall says that I won’t be tall ‘cause of my carrier”.
" Well, that might be, but don’t worry. You will make it up with your cuteness “ He gently petted her helm. Then he heard someone comm him, he apologized and walked away.
After she and Breakdown finished eating, they returned to their quarters. Knockout already cleaned up and putted the twins to sleep. Both twins were curled up to each other in one crib, Rev had his brother’s servo in his mouth and drooled onto the sheets satisfyingly.
"Aww “ Breakdown signed, " and I thought I could play with them before recharge “
Knockout glanced up at him from the berth. "Leaving again tomorrow? “
" Yea. Enercon’s running low, so we need more raids. “
Velocity’s shoulders drooped, and Knockout’s optics dimmed with the same sadness. But this was nothing they weren’t used to.
“Alright,” Knockout said finally, his tone soft but firm, “both of you to the washracks, and then recharge.”
"Yes boss. “ Velocity and Breakdown answered in unison before heading off. When they returned, Velocity launched from her sire’s neck straight into Knockout’s arms, pressing herself against his chassis and soaking in the spark-warmth that seeped through his armour. The soft hum of his vents made her optics grow heavier by the klik. Breakdown lied next to the red medic, tugging him close until they were cuddled together. He pressed a trail of little kisses over Knockout’s face until Knockout laughed and pushed his servos against Breakdown’s cheekplates in mock protest. Instead of stopping, Breakdown kissed his conjunx’s servo like it was the most precious thing in the universe.
" You are beautiful, you know that?"
“ Knockout smirked ,, I know, you tell me that every day”.
" And I’ll keep saying it until we rust away.
“ Knockout leaned in, brushing a soft, lingering kiss against Breakdown’s mouth. " Be careful out there tomorrow, will you? “
" You know I always am. Love you, Knocks. “
" I love you even more my love. Goodnight.”
" Goodnight. “
Knockout snuggled deeper into Breakdown’s frame, and Breakdown rested a protective servo over Velocity’s small back. Within minutes, the quiet sound of two exhausted parents and three little one’s breathing filled the room, the steady hum of the Nemesis lulling them all into recharge.
Freefall hated his creators.
Well, scratch that. He hated only one of his creators. But not in the big, dramatic ways you’d see in those human TV dramas Thundercracker sometimes secretly watched — with screaming, throwing punches left and right, swearing vengeance till the end of time. No, his hatred was milder compared to that. Quiet, simmering beneath the planting.
Right now, though, he was more interested in watching the Seekers pretend to exercise or at least that’s what it was supposed to be. They were led by the so-called “second trine”: Ramjet, Dirge and Thrust. It should’ve been his carrier’s job, but… well, Freefall supposed Starscream had “better” things to do. As usual.
He sat on top of a half-empty supply crate, swinging his peds idly, chin propped in one servo, bored out of his mind. The air smelled faintly of scorched energon and coolant — a sure sign the maintenance crew had slagged something up again. He wanted to sneak off to see Velocity, probably the only bot he could stand for more than five kliks, but that seemed impossible with Skywarp parked right next to him, optics on him like a hawk. First of all, rude. Second of all… very understandable. Freefall could be a handful sometimes. Sorry not sorry.
" Look at ’em. “ He muttered, nudging Skywarp with his elbow joint. " Doing absolutely nothin’. “
And it was true. Half the Seekers were stretched out recharging on the floor, and the other half were just standing around gossiping. Ramjet, who was supposed to be leading, was too busy plotting something inside his thick helm to care.
" Behold, the greatest aerial force Cybertron ever saw. “
Skywarp snorted. " Kid, yer too young t’get it. “
" If you say so … “
They watched in companionable silence for a moment as another bot came running in, tripped over a hydraulic hose, and hit the deck with a noise somewhere between a yelp and a clang.
“This ship’s a fraggin’ circus,” Freefall sighed, leaning back against the crate. “All we’re missing is a honking horn and painted faces.”
Skywarp chuckled, giving his helm a fond pat. “Primus, where’d ya learn t’be this bitter already.”
“Blame my upbringing.” Freefall’s tone was flat, deadpan.
That made Skywarp’s smile falter just slightly, but he didn’t push. Freefall knew he hit the mark.
The truth was, he’d been raised by Thundercracker and Skywarp, just like his siblings, not by his actual creators. Megatron simply didn’t care much about his offsprings, and Starscream was busy. Always so busy. The Decepticons’ second-in-command. The mighty leader of the Seekers. That’s how the others saw him.
But Freefall had his own theory: Megatron didn’t want his “precious” second-in-command around sparklings too much — afraid he’d poison their minds against him. Paranoid old bastard. Freefall’s denta ground together, servos curling into fists.
Skywarp noticed and crunched down to his level. “C’mon, runt. Let’s go find TC ‘fore ya do somethin’ stupid again. Won’t be long before ya run yer mouth at the wrong bot. And guess who gets slagged for that? Me. For not teachin’ ya manners. “
Freefall hopped down from the crate, optics still scanning the hangar. “Manners are for bots who deserve them.”
Skywarp shook his head, muttering something about “mini-Screamer” under his breath, but Freefall caught the faint smile tugging at the older Seeker’s mouth.
They didn’t have to go far.
Thundercracker appeared in the hangar’s wide entrance, tall frame outlined against the dim light of the corridor beyond. His plating looked like he’d been leaning against something sticky, and there were tell-tale crumbs scattered over his forearm.
Skywarp’s face lit up. “Well, look what the turbofox dragged in.”
Thundercracker ignored him, optics instead landing on the youngest Seeker in the room. “Still in one piece, I see. And no fresh dents.”
Freefall tilted his helm in mock offense. “Oh please. I can be civil sometimes.” His wings twitched slowly, deliberately. “How was training with my ever-so-perfect siblings?”
Thundercracker’s mouth twitched, as he strode inside. “ Same as usual. Most of them already forming their own trines, so we worked on coordination. They’re naturals. Except Iron Slash — but he’s always been more like our leader. “
Freefall huffed and said nothing.
Skywarp chimed in, grinning. "So, when ya plannin’ on startin’ yer own trine, huh? I was younger’n you when me, TC and Screamer did it”
Freefall’s optics darkened for a klik before he smiled sweetly. “When I find someone worth tolerating. So… maybe never.”
Thundercracker snorted but still reached out and rested a servo briefly on his helm. It was practiced, automatic — the same gesture he used with all the sparklings he raised. Freefall barely reacted. The touch didn’t bother him, but it didn’t mean anything either.
“Come on,” Thundercracker said. “Let’s get you somewhere that doesn’t echo every word you say to the whole hangar. Starscream will be back soon, and I’d rather not be around when he sees that shits that happening around us. I maybe be used to his screeching, but that doesn’t mean I like it.”
Freefall fell into step between the two older Seekers. His gait was relaxed, almost lazy, but his optics kept flicking to every sound, every movement in the corridor. Passing crew gave them quick nods or glances — some lingering long enough to judge, some too busy to care. As the son of the two of the two highest bots the Nemesis, mechs either didn’t want to have anything with him, or the stupider ones, who didn’t learn their lesson yet, tried to please him.
Skywarp glanced down at him. “So. Wanna go hang with yer sibs?”
“They’ll be fine,” Freefall said without looking up. “They’ve got each other. I’ve got…” He smirked faintly. “…better things to do.”
At one point through the walk, Freefall tilted his helm toward Skywarp with a too-sweet smile and asked, “Did my sire ever play with me, or just… with my carrier?” The question was sharp, not really meant for an answer, but the silence that followed told him everything he needed to know.
Skywarp froze and Thundercracker didn’t answer, but his wings shifted in a subtle, uneasy flick. They turned down a quieter corridor. Eventually, they split — Skywarp and TC to their duties, and Freefall to his quarters. Not before swearing, again, that he wouldn’t cause trouble while their backs were turned.
While he laid on his berths, thinking of thousand plans of murdering his sire, the door to his quarters opened. He didn’t bother looking up right away. Instead, he kept tracing idle shapes in the dust coating the crate beside him, pretending he hadn’t noticed.
The footsteps were light, deliberate, and far too measured to belong to Skywarp or Thundercracker. Or any of his siblings.
“Freefall.”
That voice. Screechy, sharp, grating — and unmistakable.
The young Seeker finally lifted his gaze. His carrier stood in the doorway, plating polished as always, wings poised just so, every gesture perfectly controlled. But Freefall’s optics skipped right past the posture and the expression to something else — the faint but unmistakable swell beneath his midsection, the subtle shift in weight when Starscream moved.
There it was. Again.
His wings gave an involuntary flick, small but sharp. “You’re… here.”
“Yes.” Starscream’s mouth curved in something almost like a smile, though his optics scanned Freefall with surgical precision. “Thundercracker told me you’ve finally been… behaving better.”
Freefall leaned back, propping a pede against the berths edge, silent. Just watching. His carrier’s words filled the air but didn’t land.
Starscream’s expression remained neutral, but the silence between them thickened.
“Does Sire know you’re here?” Freefall asked at last, his tone innocent on the surface.
Starscream’s optics narrowed, his answer measured. “Your sire can—…” He stopped, exhaled sharply. “I wanted to see how you were doing. And to make sure Skywarp hasn’t been teaching you bad habits.”
Freefall snorted, the sound sharp as broken glass. “Too late for that.”
Starscream stepped further in. His servo lingered for the briefest moment against his midsection — protective, instinctive. Freefall caught it instantly. His plating felt hot, not from warmth, but from that old, simmering boil inside him.
He didn’t hate the unborn sibling. He didn’t want to hate them. But he hated why they existed.
Megatron didn’t need more younglings. He needed control. And Starscream — clever, vicious, brilliant Starscream — stayed tethered because of it.
Freefall’s lip curled, a razor-thin smile. “Busy as usual?”
Starscream’s wings twitched. “There’s much work to be done for the Decepticon cause.”
Right.
"Decepticons cause or Megatron’s ?“ He couldn’t keep on pretending this was normal like everybody else. Cause it wasn’t. Everybody just turned blind eye from fear.
The words hit the air like a blade.
Starscream’s servo whipped out before Freefall could move. The smack echoed in the cramped room, plating-on-plating, leaving a sharp sting across his cheek.
“Watch your mouth, Freefall,” Starscream hissed.
The young Seeker didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. He simply held his carrier’s gaze, unblinking.
At last, Starscream straightened, wings snapping rigid, and glanced toward the door. “I’ll let you get back to… whatever you were doing.”
“Sure.”
The door slid shut behind him.
Freefall sat back down, tracing another meaningless shape into the dust. Then, slowly, methodically, he began slamming his servos into the wall. Again. And again. And again. Until the thin armour split and energon welled bright against the metal.
He didn’t stop.
Not until the rage quieted.
Not until there was nothing left but the hollow silence.
Orns later, the door opened again, Skywarp going to pick up his youngest for supper.
The sound of familiar, heavy-booted steps made Freefall glance over his shoulder. Skywarp strode in, helm tilted, a confused look on his face when he noticed the energon traces smeared across the berth and wall.
“Oi, bitlet,” Skywarp called, his voice as casual as the lazy swing of his wings. He crept closer, half cautious, half pretending he wasn’t. “Thundercracker’s still buried in duty slag, so I figured I’d come check you didn’t wander off an’ do somethin’ stupid.”
Freefall’s lip plates curled faintly. “Define stupid.”
Skywarp grinned like it was a challenge. “Eh, y’know. Anythin’ that’d make Megatron scream at me instead’a you. Which is… a fraggin’ lotta things.”
“Then no.”
Skywarp finally crossed the floor and dropped onto a crate beside him, wings flicking lazily. “Show me your servos” His tone was casual but sharp underneath, not accepting a no.
Freefall reluctantly held them out. There was a pause while Skywarp turned them over, talons gentle despite the scrutiny. He finally let go, wings giving a twitch. “Figures. I see you got yourself a visitor.”
Freefall’s wings twitched in a way that might have been irritation. “Mm.”
“An’ lemme guess…” Skywarp leaned back, optics narrowing. “Not exactly a pleasant family chat, huh?”
“Everything alright?”
The young Seeker’s smirk was faint, but sharp enough to cut. “Peachy.”
Skywarp tilted his helm, optics narrowing slightly. "Definitely worth it mutilating yourself. Real brilliant pastime you picked.”
Freefall hissed softly at him.
Skywarp let out a bark of laughter, shaking his helm. “Primus, you’re your carrier’s bitlet, no doubt. All sharp edges an’ poison lines, thinkin’ no one sees through it. Y’know, he does the same slag when he’s pissed — tears himself up instead’a just fraggin’ talkin’.”
Freefall didn’t answer, but the silence between them thickened. Skywarp wasn’t wrong. He just wasn’t going to hear the words out loud.
The Nemesis’s engines thrummed deep through the deck, the occasional echo of clanging tools and the distant crackle of comms carrying down the corridor.
Finally, Skywarp sighed, standing with a lazy roll of his shoulders. “C’mon, bitlet. Let’s get ya somethin’ from the mess before I gotta head out on night patrol. Can’t have ya starvin’ while you sit here practicin’ your brooding face. Thundercracker’ll chew my wings off if I bring you back lookin’ like scrap.”
Freefall hopped down from the berth, servos tucked into the small of his back, his smile stretched just enough to look like it belonged — but not enough to hide the edge beneath it. He fell into step beside Skywarp, not saying a word about the thing he’d noticed earlier when Starscream walked in.
The subtle swell under his carrier’s plating. The careful way Starscream had moved.
It was obvious to him — and the confirmation sat like rust in his vents. Megatron was making him do it again.
Freefall didn’t talk about it. Not to Skywarp. Not to Thundercracker. Not to anyone. Did they know? Did they even care?
But as they walked toward the mess hall, his optics dimmed slightly, the smile lingering — too calm, too controlled.
Some things were better kept behind locked plating. For now.
Coldfront didn’t know his creators.
Or maybe it was more accurate to say he didn’t remember them.
When his systems powered up from recharge, the empty space beside him was always just that. Empty. No warmth left behind. No faint trace of a spark where another presence should have been. Only silence, broken by the low hum of his own cooling fans and the distant groan of metal shifting in the cold.
The first thing he always felt after waking was the dull ache in his helm… and then nothing. Just a hollow clarity. A blank slate. Only his designation remained, etched into his memory like ice that refused to melt.
Coldfront.
How did he end up here? Who were his creators? Who was he, beyond a name?
Sometimes, when he caught his reflection in shards of ice, he thought he recognized someone. A familiar silhouette, features echoing another face. Did one of them look like him? Or was it just the way loneliness carved tricks into his processor?
The questions returned every cycle, looping like a corrupted line of code.
Why didn’t they want me? Why did they leave me here?
Had he been a burden? A mistake? Or simply… unnecessary?
His spark throbbed with the thought, but his frame betrayed him in more immediate ways. A sharp rumble in his tanks pulled him out of the spiral. Hunger. Right. Survival was more important than questions with no answers.
He pushed himself upright, plating shifting with a faint creak, and stretched his long white wings. Pale and sharp-edged, they caught the dim light filtering in, frost clinging stubbornly to their seams. He blinked his optics once, their icy glow flaring faintly against the gloom, then turned toward the exit.
The place when he woke up was nothing but an abandoned metal shell, bent and rusted, half-buried in frost. Beyond it lay nothing but silence and the open world.
Cold air hit his vents the moment he stepped closer to the edge. Outside, the land was endless ice. Mountains of snow stretched so far that the horizon blurred into sky, jagged peaks swallowed by drifting clouds. The air was thin, biting, and carried the kind of stillness that made even his systems hesitate.
He stood there for a moment, letting it seep into him, the cold wrapping around his frame like an old friend. He had been born into it, after all. Or abandoned to it.
Another growl in his tanks reminded him he didn’t have the luxury to stand still. With a low exhale, Coldfront took his first step onto the snow. The ground crunched under his pedes, and the frost clung to his plating as if trying to drag him back down.
He was already used to the cold at this point.
The bite of frost against his armor was no stranger, only another constant that clung to him like shadow. His systems complained with low warning pings, but he ignored them. The cold had always been here. It had seeped into his frame long before he even understood what warmth was supposed to feel like.
His pedes sank into the snow with every step, leaving sharp tracks that the wind immediately began to erase. He moved carefully, wings drawn close to his back, optics scanning the horizon for anything—rock formations, broken structures, even a hollow in the ground—that might promise shelter.
The mountains loomed, jagged and silent, their peaks swallowed by drifting mist. The air carried only the sound of his own movement: the crunch of snow, the hiss of his vents pushing out white fog with every cycle. The world here had no voice, no spark, no sign of life beyond him.
But he kept walking.
Sometimes he thought he saw shapes in the distance—a figure on the ridge, a shadow moving between snowbanks—but they always dissolved when he blinked. His processor toyed with him, building ghosts out of the emptiness. Were they real? Or was his own mind turning against him, inventing company he’d never have?
After breems of searching, he spotted it. A break in the endless white. To his left, the mountain revelated an entrance to a cave, where the wind didn’t scream as loud.
It wasn’t much. Just a dent in the world. But for him, it was enough.
Coldfront pushed forward, his wings trembling slightly as he forced his body through knee-deep snow. The hunger in his tanks gnawed at him, every step a reminder of how fragile his existence was without energon. Still, he pressed on until his pedes met hard ground again, sheltered beneath the lip of stone.
The silence there was different—closer, heavier. He stood still, scanning the shadows as his optics adjusted. It was empty. Abandoned. But not hostile. That was all that mattered.
He lowered himself against the wall, wings folding tight, his frame shivering as his systems tried to conserve power. The faint hum of his spark filled the quiet space. Alone, but… safer than outside.
The cave was silent.Silent in a way that pressed down on him, thicker than the snow outside. He leaned back against the stone wall, helm tilted up, letting the shadows swallow his frame.
For a moment, he closed his optics. The cold crept through his plating, sinking deeper, as if trying to remind him he did not belong here. But where did he belong?
Every recharge cycle, the same questions. They hunted him more fiercely than hunger ever could. Who had made him? Who had left him here? Why?
His spark pulsed steady in his chest, but it felt too loud, too alive against the stillness. It almost mocked him—proof that he was here, functioning, existing… but for what purpose?
Coldfront’s optics slid open again, catching his reflection in a shard of ice at the cave’s edge. The mech staring back at him looked familiar and foreign at the same time. As though he were a stranger built from fragments of someone else.
“Is this all I am?” he murmured into the emptiness, his voice barely more than a rasp of static.
The cave did not answer. Only the faint whistle of wind outside.
Part of him wondered if silence was better than the truth. If knowing who had abandoned him would be worse than never knowing at all. Perhaps he had been unwanted from the very start—a failed design, a burden too heavy, a spark too weak.
He curled his arms around himself, drawing his wings tight. His tanks ached with hunger, his frame shivered, but the weight in his processor hurt more.
The world outside would erase his tracks by morning, just as it always did. Like he had never walked there. Like he had never been.
Coldfront exvented slowly, the sound misting in the air before vanishing. He let his optics dim, forcing recharge to come. Maybe tomorrow would bring something different. Maybe not.
But for tonight, he would endure.