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I know I am a bad writer. Please give me all the constructive criticism you can. Please note that I do not own all of any charachter except for Outcast, Glitch and Shatterpoint. All other unofficial charachters were inspired by artwork I found online. Motormaster's credits go to Jolin/JesterJJZ, who made the concept art.


Darkness
Fanfic by Autobot_Outcast


Prologue:
The Egyptian sands were rough. He hated sand. It got into every joint, every servo, every circuit. The repair bots took solar cycles to airblast all of it out. He knew that from experience.

“You’ve lived too long,” his opponent said.

“Not long enough,” the prone bot replied. He knew his death was at hand, but he wanted to maintain his reputation as impossible to daunt, right to the last. His troops defeated, his masters fighting a losing battle against the last Prime. It was over.

”Enjoy reuniting with your precious Darkside,” the smaller ‘bot taunted. Bad enough to be beaten by this, this… weakling! But did he have to rub the gritty, abrasive sand into his wound, too? Darkside had been his best, an amazing fighter. But Darkside's opponent, half of this combatant, had just cut him down. Taunted him as predictable.

Not again.

This ‘Con would offline with some DIGNITY! He picked himself up. Slowly aimed his gun ports. His opponent’s blade flashed in the harsh desert sun. Both bots moved at once.

He fired. The smaller ‘bot ducked, back-flipped, kicked his faceplate in passing, landed neatly, spun 360 degrees very neatly and impaled his foe through the abdomen.

The blade retracted with a hiss of metal. The hand didn't. The much larger ‘Con could feel his systems locking, going offline. His HUD was gone. The smaller combatant’s hand closed around his Spark Chamber.

“Last Pulse,” said the victor.

The black and purple titan seemed to smile.

“Not just yet, my foe, not just yet.”

The hand wrenched free.

In the nearby ruins, The Fallen collapsed just as the other combatant just dropped the spark shell and walked away.

I’m dying, the sparkless ‘Con thought. Strangely, it doesn’t feel that bad.

And with that, he lay on the sands, his capacitor ticked over one last time, and then Motormaster closed his optics and knew no more.