From Cohort to Gestalt

Prologue

The world seemed to reflect her mood. Ravage looked out at the wastes of Cybertron. War. It had damaged so much. Once upon a time, she would have just sneered at the destruction. She'd just look at it for a klik before moving on, become more determined to her goal. To the cause. Now, she looks out and aches. All this fighting. And for what?

Death. That's all this was about. Primus or Unicron or someone was punishing them.

All these decavorns of fighting and nothing has been accomplished. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Corruption. That's what has been accomplished. Ravage remembered a time where she sat in on an interrogation. It was of a Decepticon traitor. She had been disgusted then. If only she knew what was to come. Ravage wished- oh, how she wished- she could go back and yell and claw and rage. Help the traitor escape to risk another day. Show them all how right he had been.

"You all are impostors! True Decepticons wouldn't have allowed this to happen. What happened to 'freedom is the life of all sentient beings'? To the Pit, that's what the Prime's preaching! You are a disgrace to your own cause, Megatron! You lifted us up only to bring us down. You slaughtered and killed the Council only to become them!"

At the time, Ravage had wanted to crush the traitor's spark. How he could say that of the Lord and Master- ha! How idiotic had she been? Oh, the rot had set in oh-so-long ago. She never even knew the traitor's designation. But she wished she had. Wished she was smart enough to know that time would make her worship those words. What he said spoke the truth. The Decepticons were a lost cause. A virus that- regrettably- was winning.

Senses perking up, Ravage looked up to see lightning strike the sky. It slammed to the ground. It was rare for Cybertron's thin atmosphere to create such a display. And powerful. On organic worlds, if lightning struck, it would just be grounded. On Cybertron, the natural production of electricity would be able to be conducted. There was a legend that said that lightning had struck on the northern region of Cybertron and was felt in the southern. Some hot spots would get a boost from the other energy source. If lightning or similar electricity were to strike a normal spark, it would overload it and the spark would dissipate. But, somehow, hot spots that have been struck with lightning make the sparks impervious to the overload.

That would not be happening with this lightning strike.

The symbol of dominance and power now taunted Ravage. She felt chained. The feeling disgusted her.

She looked back. The alcove she chose was one that wouldn't be found. Unless mecha went looking. But they wouldn't be looking. "Normal" mecha didn't think of her as an equal. Didn't even see her as a threat. Not without-

Shuttering her optics tightly, Ravage bared the pain of her spark. She locked her joints and weathered the pain that ebbed and flowed from her very being to throughout her entire frame. Pain was not new to her. But this kind ran deep. It lasted only breems, yet it felt like she took out an entire infantry when it was over. Her vents flared, trying to get rid of any exhaust that threatened to overheat her.

She needed to get back.

Getting up, Ravage prowled through the halls. She was an apex predator, those smart enough would not cross her... but not anymore. She could feel the difference right when-

Stabbing pain blinded her as her spark reached out into the nothingness, Ravage grimaced, locking her limbs instinctively. For the first time since youngling hood, she fell. Ravage's frame threatened to convulse, but a tether from stability dragged her back. She sent a pulse of gratitude toward Lazerbeak. She had always felt a stronger connection with her avianoid cohort-sibling. Once she was steady, Lazerbeak receded, but kept the tight connection, beckoning Ravage forward.

~Yes, I'm coming.~

They needed to be together.

Lazerbeak sent back her own affirmative before allowing the connection to recede. The bond was still there, along with four others, pulling her toward where they were all huddled together.

Ravage attempted to get up, for a terrifying half klik she thought she was paralyzed before unlocking her joints. Pushing her scanners to the max, Ravage tried to find any mech that might have seen her. When no threats showed up, she continued her stalking. It led her to the nearest vent. The hall of symbiotes. Amusement made its way into her EM field before dissipating. Ravage didn't know if she could ever feel true humor after-

This time she pushed through the pain. It didn't help that, now closer to the bonds, she could feel it echo through them. A soft growl escaped her engine, another following through her vocalizer. Yet she continued on.

The murmur of mecha below kept grabbing her attention. Not to mention her systems easily fixing into private comm chatter. Although she wasn't always like this, Ravage was a spy. Her frame had been remodeled to make her excel in the field. Even allies had been targeted. Especially their allies. Megatron had wanted perfection in his army. Which meant no treachery. Ravage didn't know how many traitors her cohort caught. Like the one that had the audacity to rage at Lord Megatron when the esteem master decided to give him the time of cycle.

Oh, how Ravage wishes she could go back to that moment. Or at least have the mech's tenacious spirit. She could see herself do it: charge into the throne room (throne room! How did it come to that?) and give into the rage and grief cycling through her systems. Demand the one she bowed to to answer for his atrocities.

But it could never happen. Sure, she could march into the throw room. Then she'd be laughed at by all the mecha inside at best, at worst get a plasma shot to the spark chamber. Just like-

Right before she entered the room where her bonds existed, demanding pain entered her spark, running through her frame. It was so much, too much. Her cry chorused with the whimpers in the room. They called out to her. The other bonds felt like they were draining her very spark. Warnings popped up on her HUD as she collapsed from exhaustion. Her spark couldn't help the bonds and hold her frame at the same time. It was one or the other.

As much as mecha said she was a cold sparked killer, Ravage chose the bonds. With one last burst of strength, she tilted her frame so it would tumble out of the vent. Other frames- smaller, more fragile- caught her before making her their center. She spasmed, her spark being pulled in five different directions. But she held. Primus, she had to. If Ravage went offline...

No. Determination went through her. Be it pure stubbornness, but Ravage was not going to become one with the Allspark. Nor the other bonds. Lazerbeak, Buzzsaw, Rumble, Frenzy, and Ratbat. Sweet, innocent Ratbat. Never. She'd pray or rage to Primus. But neither He or the Allspark would be taking her cohort. Or her. They'd live. Even if it was just to spite the forces of their reality. Ravage saw misery and sorrow ahead. But she would. not. break!

Her pertinacious spark fed into the others. Their weak EM fields gain, not strength, but something else. Even in their weakened state, they would continue. None would fall. None would gray.

They would live. What life? Uncertain. The future used to have a fixed setting, however vague.

But Soundwave was dead.

The future was no longer certain.