Reignition. [ A Transformer Oc story ] ⚡️

(2) Fractured Paths.

The wind swept through the canyon as Worthstrike and Steelclaw stood shoulder to shoulder, their sparks still buzzing from their reunion. But now, the weight of their conversation lingered in the air, and the reality of the war around them pressed down hard. There was no peace, no clean slate. The universe didn’t stop for them, even if they wished it would.

Worthstrike turned his gaze toward the horizon, where the distant glow of explosions lit the night sky. He clenched his fists, knowing their next steps wouldn’t be easy. "We’ve fought together before," he said quietly, his optics locked on the horizon. "But this time, things are different."

Steelclaw’s optics flickered as he looked at him, sensing the hesitation in his voice. "What do you mean?" he asked cautiously.

Worthstrike hesitated, his expression hardening. "Before, it was just us—fighting to survive, staying ahead of the chaos. But now? Now the war has shifted. I’m part of something bigger." He paused, his optics scanning the horizon. "I’m leading a resistance cell now. And we’re in deeper than ever."

Steelclaw’s spark skipped a beat. He had been prepared for battle, of course—war had shaped both of their lives—but hearing that Steelclad had taken on the mantle of leadership, that he was responsible for more than just himself, sent a ripple of unease through him.

"A resistance cell?" he echoed, his optics narrowing. "Worthstrike, we’ve always fought for each other. Since when did you start leading others?"

His optics dimmed as he exhaled. "Since there wasn’t anyone left to follow." The weight of his words settled between them. "After you were gone, I had to step up. We needed someone to fight back, to hold the line against the Decepticons. I became that someone."

Steelclaw’s spark twisted. He had imagined him out there, fighting to survive, just like he had. But to hear that he had become a leader, that he had been making decisions that affected not just his own life but the lives of others—it was a reality he hadn’t considered.

"I didn’t ask for this," Worthstrike added, his voice tight with frustration. "But I couldn’t stand by and let more of our kind fall. So, I made a choice."

Steelclaw took a step back, processing the weight of his words. "And what now?" he asked, his tone sharp. "Do you expect me to just fall in line, like the rest of your soldiers?"

Worthstrike’s optics flared. "This isn’t about command, Steelclaw!" he snapped, his frustration bubbling over. "This is about survival—about winning a war that’s destroyed everything we’ve ever known."

Steelclaw held his gaze, his optics blazing with emotion. "I’ve been surviving on my own for centuries, Worthstrike. I didn’t need a leader then, and I don’t need one now."

The silence between them was thick, the weight of unspoken feelings pressing down. They had both changed, both evolved into something more—and something less—than they had been before. The bond that had once been their greatest strength now felt fragile, as though the war had worn it down to its core.

Worthstrike’s shoulders slumped as he sighed. "I’m not asking you to follow me blindly," he said softly, his tone softer, more pleading. "I’m asking you to fight with me, like we always did. We can’t survive this war alone—not anymore."

Steelclaw’s optics softened, his spark pulsing in rhythm with his words. He knew he was right. The world had changed, and their old way of surviving—just the two of them, side by side—might not be enough anymore.

But it still felt like something fundamental had shifted between them. And as much as she wanted to believe they could simply fall back into step with one another, there was a new tension in the air. One that wouldn’t disappear easily.