Warpath || A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

~⚝Chapter One - Reality Check⚝~

       The low hum of dormant machinery filled the cavern as Gearshift's systems grudgingly powered up. Her optics flickered to life, casting a dim, weary light across the darkened chamber. It took her longer than usual to rouse herself from the deep, dreamless power-down—she wasn't in any rush. There was nothing waiting for her today that hadn't been there yesterday, or the day before that.

       The silence of the underground base was oppressive, a constant companion in her isolated existence. Here, deep in the wilderness of Northern Canada, she had no one to answer to but herself. This was her life now, and that was just how she tolerated it.

       She stretched out her limbs with forced mechanical movements, the quiet sound of servos and gears clicking into place echoing softly through the cavern. Her actions were deliberate, as if the act of waking was more of a duty than a choice. As her sensors adjusted to the dim light, she scanned the familiar surroundings: tools scattered across her workbench, half-finished projects that had long since lost their urgency, and the trickling sound of the underground river—its once soothing noise now just a part of the background, neither comforting nor unsettling. Just a constant reminder of her self-imposed solitude.

       The faint glow of bioluminescent organisms in the water cast an eerie, lonely light over the rocky walls. She used to find them fascinating, a hidden wonder that made this place feel like a secret treasure, perhaps even important in some way. But now they were just another fixture in this empty, monotonous routine.

       She groaned, running her hand over her face. She felt devoid of purpose. Of a reason to keep going. Yet for some reason... she did.

       She moved with heavy steps, checking her energy levels and running a quick diagnostic on her systems. All systems nominal—no surprise there. Everything was in order, as always. Nothing ever changed here. And that was fine. Change would mean facing something she wasn't prepared to handle—something she couldn't even remember. Most of her tasks were just busywork, distractions from this meaningless reality she forced herself to endure.

       Her optics drifted over the stack of crates she'd brought in days ago, filled with supplies and spare parts she'd scavenged during one of her rare ventures outside. The thought of leaving again stirred nothing within her—no dread, no excitement, just a vague sense of obligation. It was what she did. It was all she knew how to do.

       She had no memories of a life before this one, no recollections of faces or names, of battles fought or alliances made. If there had been another life, another Gearshift, she was lost to time, buried under years of isolation and the relentless, numbing routine. This was her reality now, and she accepted it without question.

       With a resigned sigh, she moved to her workbench, her mind already slipping into the familiar numbness of routine. She didn't smile anymore, didn't find joy in her work like she used to. Was that right? Did she used to feel something performing these meaningless tasks? She couldn't remember. They seemed to have no significance beyond the act itself.

       The past was a void, a blank space in her mind that she never tried to fill. Here, in the present, she was safe. Here, she was free.

       But freedom had never felt so heavy.

       Gearshift's hands moved automatically, picking up a small tool and tinkering with a piece of equipment on the workbench. She didn't need to fix it; it was in perfect working order, but she needed something—anything—to keep her hands busy. The repetitive motion of tightening screws, adjusting circuits, and fine-tuning mechanisms was soothing. It kept her mind from wandering, from drifting into thoughts that made no sense, thoughts that she couldn't quite grasp.

       The cavernous base echoed with the sound of her movements, the clicks and whirrs of her work the only noise in the stillness. The silence was all she knew, a blanket that muffled everything beyond her immediate surroundings. In here, there was no outside world, just the faint hum of her machinery and the distant trickle of the underground river.

       Time lost its meaning in the darkness of the cave. Minutes bled into hours, hours into days, and Gearshift moved through it all with the same mechanical precision. There was no before, no after—only the now. The concept of anything different, anything beyond this, had long since faded from her understanding. There was a time when she might have cared—when she might have felt something, anything, about the endless repetition. But now it was all the same, all part of the routine she had built to keep herself from falling apart.

       As she worked, a sudden jolt shot through her circuits, causing her hand to slip, the tool clattering to the floor. Gearshift froze, her optics flickering erratically. Her internal systems whirred, struggling to stabilize as a strange, unfamiliar sensation crept through her. It was as if something was missing—something she couldn't name or identify, like a blank spot in her code.

       She hesitated, her optics dimming momentarily as she tried to process the glitch. But the thought slipped away before she could grasp it, leaving only a faint, lingering disorientation. With a shake of her head, she dismissed it, attributing it to a minor malfunction. She would fix it later, just like she always did.

       She bent down to retrieve the tool, her movements slightly less fluid than before. The glitch had left her with a vague sense of unease, but she couldn't understand why. There was nothing wrong, nothing out of place. The cavern was just as it had always been—quiet, dark, and devoid of anything but her and her work.

       She glanced toward the entrance of the base, her optics narrowing slightly as if trying to recall why she had looked there. But the thought, if there had been one, was gone before she could form it, replaced by the familiar routine that guided her actions.

       The heavy metal door remained closed, sealing her in this place where she had always existed. Beyond it lay... nothing she could remember. Perhaps a forest, or maybe just more rock. She didn't know, and she didn't care. The outside held no significance, no promise of anything different. There was no need to leave, no reason to venture beyond the safety of her walls. The world was still turning, the universe still moving forward, but Gearshift remained here, in the same place, unchanged and unchanging.

       She returned to her work, her movements steady but a touch more deliberate, as if she had to concentrate on the motions. The brief glitch lingered at the edge of her awareness, but it didn't matter. It was just another malfunction, another sign that her systems were wearing down. It was nothing to worry about, nothing that required her attention.

       Another sound reached her audio receptors, a faint rustling that made her pause. Her optics flickered again, brighter this time, as she scanned the cavern. Nothing. Just the same empty space, the same dim light, the same tools and machinery scattered around her. She shook her head again, dismissing it as another fault in her systems. It wasn't important.

       She resumed her work, the silence wrapping around her once more. The glitch was forgotten, just like everything else. She didn't know what she was forgetting, didn't even know that there was anything to forget. This was her life, and it was all she knew.

       She was just... here. Existing.

       And that was enough.

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Total Word Count: 1262