??.? "This a bad time to say I got the touch?"
"Better yet, I think ya have the power. Or however that lyric goes."
IN WHICH a girl hums through life in quiet rhythms, but for every thousand lives she's lived, each time, the tempo stumbles. Each ti...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑹𝑻𝒀-𝑺𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵 "What about our planet!?"
˚ ✦ . ˚ . . ✦ . ˚ * . ★ ˚
The air felt like it was holding its breath.
Even the hum of the Omega Lock above seemed to falter as Crux, terrifyingly self-assured, walked forward.
The Decepticons even seemed weary with faint hesitation, as though even they weren't sure whose side she was truly on.
Her red optics glowed brighter with each step, not locked on Megatron or Optimus or even Jazz, but on Replay, who was dangerously close in comparison to the others. She had yet to walk far enough to get back to her group, leaving her feeling utterly alone as she faced that smile, sharp as a blade, carved across her faceplate.
"Rhea!" Her voice came smooth and venom-sweet, reverberating across the wasteland. "I've waited for this moment for god knows how long."
The designation hit like a blast to the spark.
Replay froze, servo tightening protectively around the containers
Rhea. She had said her designation, knew it.
And what Cybertonians used the word god?
"Or... you go by Replay now, don't you?" Crux tilted her helm mockingly, voice thick with familiarity that Replay didn't recognize.
Her optics flicked downward despite the lack of reply, landing on the containers clasped in Replay's servos. Or rather, who was inside them, staring with utter fear. "Is that...?"
Replay took a single step back, shifting the containers behind her as if to shield the children inside.
Crux stopped immediately.
For a second, her optics dimmed, the faintest twitch of restraint in her frame.
Then her smirk returned, optics moving past the femme and taking in the silent rows of Autobots and Decepticons—half aimed at her, half at each other.
"Well," she said lightly, "this is a warm welcome." Her tone dripped with irony, her gaze flicking between Optimus, Megatron, and Jazz in measured rhythm. She stared for a brief moment at the dagger he held, and chuckled.
"Though I suppose none of you recognize the frame, hm? Only the version of me that came with it."That last part came out with a mocking lilt, bitter underneath.
Confusion rippled through both factions. Even Megatron's expression shifted from irritation to intrigue.
