THE MASTERS OF SHADOW
By Matt Kirkby
Avatar Prime, stood on his private balcony and
stared out across the gardens of the Heartland, his bright green eyes
gazing towards the horizon. Overhead, the cloudless sky was alight with
the soft glow from the Creator's Cloak, the swirling nebula which
shrouded the planet of Eden and hid it from the outside universe. His
green eyes sought solace in the ever-shifting glow from the gases which
formed the nebula, and kept the planet's surface forever lit by endless
twilight, but the peace he sought eluded him. The soft breeze-rich with
the scent of growth and blooming plants-rustled through his silvery
hair and tugged gently at his pale yellow cloak. The balcony's warm
railing pulsed slightly under his fingers as he gripped it.
Turning away from the view, he stepped towards the
apparently featureless wall of the tower itself. A thought, and part of
the wall irised open into a doorway. Stepping through it, and after
sparing another thought to make the wall grow solid behind him, he
paced through a corridor, his bare feet making no sound on the lush
grass which covered the floor in a living carpet. The translucent aides
of the corridor pulsed slowly, glowing from within with a comforting
yellowish light. He paused for a brief moment, to listen to the
building's rhythm...the air throbbed softly in a gentle pulse. Nodding
to himself, he continued down the corridor. Eventually he stopped
before one section of wall- seemingly no different from any other he
had passed-and thought open another door, stepping through it into a
circular chamber.
"Ah, Avatar, you have arrived. Finally."
"Thou have called the Circle together, Militant
Prime, for a valid reason, I trust?" Avatar stared at the military
commander with a cold gaze. "Only I may call together the
Primes...unless the matter is of the most vital importance to the
Children."
"The Law is well-known," Militant replied, bowing
his head and giving Avatar an ironic grin. The smile did not touch his
almond-shaped eyes which remained twin pools of green ice. "But matters
pertaining to fulfilling the will of our Lord Primus are always a
matter of vital importance to all of the Children, not just we Primes,
I know and honor our traditions in all their forms, Avatar Prime, I am
within my rights to summon together the Circle Of Primes."
Avatar noted the agreeing nods from many of the
other Primes who had assembled in the chamber prior to his arrival, and
he allowed Militant his small triumph, "You may proceed then, Militant
Prime," he said graciously. "Enlighten us with your current wisdom." A
thought caused part of the floor to extrude itself into a chair behind
him and he sat down, adjusting his cloak around him.
The other Primes also summoned chairs for
themselves-some from the floor, others from the walls, and one called
down a swing from the ceiling.
"The Jihad has begun," Militant announced, a gleam
in his green eyes. He alone had declined to summon a chair, choosing to
remain standing, and now he turned around slowly, so that he could look
at each Prime as he spoke, "The righteous and just campaign against the
Blasphemers has progressed beyond our most optimistic expectations."
"The will of Primus be obeyed," several of the
assembled Primes murmured, bowing their silver-haired heads.
Now Militant chose to pace across the floor as he
continued. "The Disciples have struck at many worlds infested by the
Mechs," his scale-like body armor glimmered as he moved, "and all those
who would profane the glory of our Lord Primus have been struck down."
Militant paused, while the others digested his words. "The most holy
resting world of our Lord Primus himself is now within our grasp!"
Even Avatar felt a surge of emotion within his
breast at that statement.
"The Creator's world will again be ours," Militant
promised confidently, his proud voice ringing through the chamber.
"Once cleansed of the Mechs, it will become a garden world of beauty,
lush with growing things. We will reshape it...bring true life to that
cold sphere, and the Creator's resting place will become a monument to
His greater glory." His eyes gleamed, "The will of Primus shall be
done!" he proclaimed.
"The will of Primus be obeyed," the Primes murmured.
Avatar allowed the silence to stretch out for many
minutes, giving the assembled Primes time to meditate upon the
momentous news. "And what of our ancient birthworld?" he asked at last.
"What news do thee have of it?"
The Primes paused, every sound stilled, as each one
once again reflected upon the recent news that one of their farthest
ranging scoutships had stumbled across the divine birthworld itself.
What joy had filled the Primes when they learned that their long-lost
birthworld had recovered from the ancient Biocaust, and was once again
lush with organic life, populated by billions of sentients...and how
they had all sorrowed to see the presence of the accursed Mechs upon
its surface, along with grim evidence of the Mechs’ long civil war
which once again threatened it's fragile ecosystems.
"The soulless Mechs are once again staining the
birthworld's sacred surface with their unholy presence and their
endless war," Militant informed them grimly, "The Autobots have been
all but annihilated by their Decepticon enemies in a recent campaign,
one which weakened them both and aided us in our early success." His
voice turned sorrowful. "Our fellow Children, as always, suffer
greatly. The birthworld itself is threatened no less than those who now
inhabit it."
"They will be saved."
Avatar lifted an eyebrow. "Thou has an offering,
Observer?"
That Prime nodded, silvery hair falling across his
face and almost hiding his expression. Despite his advanced age-well
into his second century-his green eyes were still bright. "With the
location of the birthworld now known to us, we can direct our
servants to drive the Blasphemers from its sacred surface. Our brethren
can then be forever freed from their tormentors. The Children will
become One."
"Yes," Tutor Prime agreed. "And then we can return
to our birthworld openly, in triumph. We can teach the lost Children of
our skills-as befits their proud heritage-and induct them into the
glory that comes from joyfully serving the will of our Lord Primus, We
can free them, forever, from the slavery of the soulless machines,"
"A most noble goal, Prime, as we have long agreed,"
Avatar paused, "Every Prime, since the Mechs drove us from its surface
during the Biocaust, has sworn to locate our lost birthworld and
restore it to its former glory…and now, fellow Primes, that most sacred
of duties has fallen upon our shoulders." He bowed his head and sighed,
"Despite years beyond count, all of the Children have dreamed of one
day returning home," Avatar paused, studying the others with a long and
searching stare. "However, the question must be asked: can our servants
spare the strength to achieve this goal?"
Observer Prime nodded his agreement. "I would not
rush to reclaim the birthworld if such a division of our strength would
leave the Mechs in a position elsewhere to regather their own forces
for a counterattack and once again exile us."
"Nor I," Healer Prime broke her long silence. She
was the youngest of the Circle, barely past her first century, "To heal
and restore our birthworld into it's former beauty is a worthy task, a
duty all of the Children are prepared to undertake, I would not see our
efforts be made and then erased by the Mechs in another Biocaust."
Avatar nodded, "The Circle is in agreement...no rash
actions will be undertaken in this matter," He paused, gathering his
thoughts. "We have been exiled from the birthworld for millions of
years…a few months-or even years-more will not harm us,"
"We must inquire of the Will." Militant rejoined the
debate after a period of watchful silence. "Such a decision cannot be
undertaken lightly."
"Despite its inherent difficulty, I must agree,"
Instructor Prime announced, "The Will must be consulted in this matter.
The Circle cannot render its final decision without access to all of
the facts."
Militant smiled as most of the others nodded
agreement with his request, then he turned to a section of wall and
thought a series of specific commands.
The wall's surface rippled, lightened, and finally
became a viewscreen which slowly lit up with the image of a sour-faced
woman. "Yes? What do you want?" she snapped, glaring into her video
pick-up, "Forgive me, Primes," she said contritely, an instant later,
though the anger in her green eyes did not fade. "I have been too long
amid the soulless machines and too long separated from our world of
life. I humbly offer myself for penance," She lowered her head further.
"There is no need, Guidous," Avatar told her with a
polite smile. "We all admire thy self-sacrifice…to be exiled among the
Mechs-even those which currently serve us-cannot be an easy thing. We
admire thee for it."
Guidous drew herself up straighter, shaking her
silvery hair out of her face. "It is a necessary evil, Avatar Prime,
and a sacrifice which one must make...lest all of the Children suffer
instead." She paused, considering her next words. "The soulless
Blasphemers must be dealt with and this is the most expedient method.
Our Lord Primus understands the sacrifice I now make and will surely
honor me for it in the next cycle. I know that my time here is
temporary, less than an eyeblink to the Primal Gods, and my life is but
a tool to be shaped in service of His divine will."
Soft chuckles greeted that comment, Guidous was not
commonly known for such gentle talk nor for easily accepting her fate.
This meekness was an illusion…and many Primes waited for her to revert
to her normal temperament, glad that she was so distant, for when her
temper snapped, the results could be deadly.
"The Circle would have answers," Militant told her;
he had not chuckled at her comment, nor did he fear her temper. "Can
our servants muster strength enough to cleanse our birthworld of the
Mechs’ foul presence?"
Guidous was silent for a moment-she was distant
enough from Eden that the con-transmission lag alone imposed several
seconds delay on their conversation-but at last she nodded, "Given the
new converts recently taken from Syrra IV, I am confident that our
long-lost birthworld can be reclaimed…with minimal losses for our
allies too I would think," Guidous nodded slowly, a smile on her lips.
"I will lead them there myself!"
"Nay," Avatar told her, "The presence of the Will is
still required on Cybertron, The Soul of Cybertron must be found and
restored to our care. Cleansing the birthworld of its eons-long
infestation can be easily accomplished by proxy."
Militant nodded, "Indeed, Cybertron currently
remains a more important objective for our forces. The task of
eliminating the remnants of resistance and converting the Mechs still
present must be completed before all else,"
"The success of the Jihad requires it," Avatar
added, "The glory of our Lord Primus demands it."
"The will of Primus be obeyed," Guidous said, bowing
her head. Again, she chuckled. "My will be obeyed," she said softly.
Disapproving glares tinged many of the Primes'
expressions.
"Thy attempts at humor are not suitable," Instructor
Prime told her coldly, "Our Lord Primus will surely punish those who
would mock His divine power."
"Forgive me, Primes," Guidous replied humbly, her
head bowed to her breast. "I meant no disrespect to our Lord. It was
but ...an ill-chosen choice of words."
"Thou art forgiven," Avatar glanced at his fellow
Primes, but none challenged his quick acceptance. "Now, by order of the
Prime Circle, who guide the Children of Primus, thou are now commanded
to cleanse the Earth of the Blasphemers."
"The Mechs shall be destroyed." Guidoua grinned, her
tone mingling arrogance and pride. "The Will of Primus be obeyed."
"The will of Primus be obeyed," the Primes agreed.
Guidous continued smiling. "May Primus preserve us."
The viewscreen went dark and once again became a normal wall.
"I look forward to setting foot on Cybertron,"
Observer Prime announced after a long silence. "Almost as much as I now
look forward to visiting our ancient birthworld." His voice grew
reverent. "To walk upon its ancient soil, to commune with the world
created by our Lord Himself…"
The others nodded and muttered agreements.
"I long for Cybertron," Healer Prime said. "We shall
be the Children who plant the first gardens and turn the resting place
of our Lord lush with life. Such a mission will be a task of honor."
Instructor nodded, "True words." His green eyes were
moist with unshed tears, "But think on this, fellow Primes, for we know
that somewhere the Last Guardian sleeps...and he guards the last
remnants of our Lord's sacred lifeforce." Awed murmurs sounded at that
reminder. "We roust find and recover it...for only we can truly do it
the proper honor,"
"To commune directly with the essence of our Lord,"
Observer said wistfully. "A dream...surely."
"To make use of it for healing," Healer sighed. "We
can now truly return our people to their former greatness. With such
power-"
"With such power," Militant said, "our greatness is
assured!" His voice was cold. "Yet the sacred Spark is still lost to
us. The Mechs have used it once before, we must not allow them a chance
to awaken the Guardian. They pollute all that they touch, I will not
let them sully the Divine Spark."
Avatar felt a shiver pass through him at Militant's
words. "There is a shadow in your soul," he mused aloud.
"Shadows are defined by the strength of the light,"
Militant scoffed. "At present, we are all shadows." His muscles rippled
under his bio-armor. "Perhaps you are content to remain among them, but
I seek to step forward...for perhaps it is destined that one among our
number should declare himself a Master of the Shadows."
Silence stretched out after that comment. Several of
the Primes looked disapproving,
"If there are no other matters of import? Then I
call this session of the Circle to an end," Avatar announced, rising to
his feet and adjusting his cloak. "May Primus preserve us all."
The others echoed his words.