Blinded By The Light
Moon was not always by Earth's side. Before he found her, he was once mighty. Born of another powerful Titan, he was prideful and content.
That security led to his and his citizens downfall.
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Fengari was forged under the stars. He woke in a pool of protomatter, weak, cold, and yet not afraid. The stars comforted him, and the light of Luna 1 and 2 calmed his anxious spark as he pulled himself free of wires and the remnants of his birthplace. Many cycles were spent watching the celestial bodies above, observing their rotations before a call in his spark urged him to stand and wander.
He remembered it clearly, walking alone on the surface of Cybertron without so much as an inkling as to where he was or where he was meant to go. He was smaller then, and for a time he had been petite enough to be cared for by a small clan of grounders who he instinctively knew were not like him. They taught him to write and speak in their language. Then they showed him how to avoid the things which they called Predacons. The mighty beasts of the skies were of Primus, that much he knew. But they were deadly things that hunted others for fuel. It was strange to him considering his guardians foraged for their energon.
His guardians often told him that he would not have to fear them once he grew mightier, but while he was still small, they taught him to take care. He respected the Predacons and kept away from them. In turn, whenever they saw him bow his helm in light of their passing, took care to leave him be. Looking back, it may have been that they sensed what he was. But it was difficult for him to tell.
His guardians were good to him, although he could not remember their names. Eventually, once he began to tower over the oldest of his guardians, they took him toward the mountains. He did not understand. But the oldest of the clan, when asked how he knew where to go, told Fengari all he needed to know.
“You have your progenitor’s optics.”
Fengari was not made without reason. He was forged by another one of his kind, one who called himself Caminus. The specifics were difficult for him to discern, but Caminus was ancient enough to have seen the thirteen when they still walked the surface of Cybertron. Why he chose to create life was unknown to Fengari when he was still young, but Caminus was old enough to break away a piece of his own spark and send it forth like a seedling. The spark shard was not guaranteed to take root, but from one of Caminus’s shards, Fengari had come into being.
He was, according to Caminus’s citizens, a miracle. Few shards ever became anything of note. Most turned into plant life or fostered new hotspots. Rarely did any develop into a young Titan.
Yes, that was what he was. He was a Titan, and he was not alone.
“What is your name?” His Progenitor spoke to him in soft tones, for at the time, Fengari was still very small. He sat in the core room of Caminus’s frame alongside the Speaker, listening intently to every uttered glyph with complete and total awe. His Progenitor was massive, and the city that he formed when he remained in alt-mode was both sizable and impressive in the extreme. The elder Titan’s citizens were well-educated and kind, each welcoming Fengari with cheer when he entered their sanctuary. All of it spoke to Caminus’s age and wisdom.
“Fengari, Titan of Cybertron, forged of Caminus.” He felt his Progenitor’s joy at his words, and in that moment, all was right with the world. He was a true son of Caminus, and he was proud of his heritage. His Progenitor’s love for him caused his loyalty to grow. All was well within Caminus’s walls, for there he knew he was cared for.
For many long vorns, he remained within the confines of Caminus’s walls, learning both the ways of the smaller children of Primus and the customs of the Titans. Caminus’s wards were difficult to understand at times, but it was for that reason that Caminus often took care to encourage Fengari to interact with them. They certainly adored Fengari whenever he asked questions and reached out to interact with their little ones.
The sparklings were so very sweet. Fengari personally found they were his favorite since he could show them the stars with his height.
“Pick us up Fengari! Pick us up!” The little ones swarmed around him with gifts and paints, eager to cover him in swirling patterns and designs that were common amongst Caminus’s kin. They wore their paint to honor their Titan, and while Fengari walked among them, he was happy to bear the red face paint that Caminus and his citizens were known for.
“Calm yourselves little ones. I do not wish to drop you. I am no longer as small as I used to be.” He laughed as the little ones sat on his opened servos, quickly clambering onto his shoulders and back to begin painting him and putting stickers in places they knew he could never reach on his own. He settled on the ground with a smile and let them giggle and play.
“You are very good with sparklings, Fengari. If you keep growing at this rate, you will likely be ready to set off and begin welcoming citizens of your own.” A caretaker commented merrily as he held a servo out to catch one of the floundering fliers trying to reach his optics. He smiled at their words, his spark flaring in excitement at the prospect of having citizens of his own.
He learned and walked among them until he grew as large as a combiner team of six. Only then did Caminus truly begin offering his insight.
“You are a Titan, Fengari. We protect our citizens until our very sparks go out. That is our design.” Caminus’s glyphs were heavy and grim. Fengari tilted his helm in concern and confusion as he stood before the core of his Progenitor with the Speaker.
“That much I know. It is ingrained in my very spark… Why do you sound so sullen?” Cables emerged from the walls and slithered along his limbs as Caminus’s way of offering comfort. Fengari found himself at a loss as his Progenitor shattered his world.
“Our citizens come before all else, and that includes our connections.” Caminus sighed, and while Fengari did not fully understand, he could glean the grief in Caminus’s words. He was going to do something to separate them. He could feel it in his spark.
“I cannot remain here, Fengari. I must leave this world with my people. We must spread to the stars before I can no longer wake and become naught but a relic of an age gone by.” Fengari had never once cried up until that moment. But as Caminus basked him in grief-addled love, he wept. Tears fell from his optics as he cried at the loss that he had not yet sustained.
Caminus wept with him, although his Progenitor shed no tears.
“Preparations are being made, but until the time comes that I must leave, I will teach you all I can and connect you to the rest of our kin. You will not be alone.” He could do nothing but nod at the time. However, he relished every interaction he had with Caminus as the city slowly began to change. Citizens adjusted their lifestyles as walls retracted and Caminus’s sprawling frame began to compound into something different, something space-worthy.
Predacons took the chance to attack on occasion, and that was where Fengari learned to fight. He could not yet transform, but he used his fists to wrangle Predacons to the ground and keep them away from his Progenitor’s precious people. Of course that was not all he did. Throughout the preparations, Fengari learned and was given knowledge of Cybertron’s surface and the best places to go to care for citizens. Caminus was thorough, and even when his Progenitor was ready to leave the planet, he took the time to move for the first time in millennia in order to watch as Fengari settled on the place he wanted to establish himself in.
It was bittersweet selecting his home ground with his Progenitor high in the skies above him, mere moments away from leaving. However, Caminus left him with one final gift before parting.
“Some of my citizens could not bear to be parted from you. They have decided to stay and ensure you grow strong. Take care of them, Fengari. They will serve you well.” Caminus bid him a final farewell, and as he did so, a small armada of fliers descended from the skies like angels. They came singing and settled upon his now mighty shoulders with smiles.
His very first citizens and his final gift from his Progenitor, his father.
“Why did you decide to stay with me?” He questioned as the last inkling of his father faded into the dark skies.
“Because you are of Caminus, and we wish to ensure that his legacy goes on.” One of the fliers replied fondly. They all smiled at him then, and in that moment, Fengari’s grief was largely forgotten.
He never saw Caminus again, and he never found out what happened to his father while he remained on Cybertron. But with his newfound citizens, he had responsibilities. There was little time to reminisce with Predacons around. He settled quickly, and with the guidance of his wards, he transformed for the first time and learned to morph himself into a home for his beloved citizens.
He modeled himself after his father, forging towering structures that were both works of art and practical defenses. He did not glitter gold or red like his Progenitor, instead he glimmered like crystal. He was proud to be a son of Caminus, and he was glad to foster his citizens as they grew, changed, and evolved. His presence allowed a hotspot to form around his frame, and from that hotspot, little ones emerged.
He loved them all. He loved his citizens so much that as he spread his roots, he grew walls and warded away Predacons with guns and blasters. Youth faded away into maturity, and as it did so, he finally found himself able to connect to others of his kind.
“You are Fengari, right?” Bellum was his name. He was another shard of Caminus, one who never found his way to their Progenitor before their father left. He too loved his citizens above all else. They spoke through their roots and shared their experiences. Bellum was red and rustic, preferring a more openly mechanical nature to his city and citizens. However, despite having never met Caminus in person as Fengari had, Bellum maintained the custom of having painted marks on his frame. All his citizens bore the marks, and for that reason, Fengari and his brother mingled, their citizens passing between their cities. The Predacons lurked, but they were not an issue for being as mighty as them, especially not when one of the older Titans wandered and made a habit of protecting Titans like Fengari and Bellum who were immobile.
“I am Mortis. Fear not, for I will guard you and the little ones from the beasts of the skies.” He was bright and highly mobile. Mortis was not a large Titan by any standard, but his strength was in his swiftness and the sheer amount of weaponry he was adorned in. He did not have citizens, instead opting to have a small squadron of fliers hailing from other Titans willing to offer up aid. Mortis guarded them against the worst of the Predacons and often wandered Cybertron’s surface to help protect the clans of wandering mecha who either could not reach the cities of Titans or had no interest in giving their allegiance to one who could house them.
Mortis, Bellum, and others. They were together, and despite the threat that loomed above them all, they were content. They grew, and their citizens prospered. Bellum was filled with nothing but mirth, Mortis was aggressive but stalwart, and the other Titans scattered across the surface who bothered to communicate were kind in their own ways. Nothing worried Fengari. He trusted his citizens and his kin enough to allow himself to fall into a well-deserved recharge as all elder Titans eventually did.
That was his first and final mistake.
He was stirred from his slumber by his Speaker who bowed before him in tears. He felt fire upon his surface and worried that perhaps Predacons were attacking and damaging him. The pain was manageable, but he felt the heat continue to increase. It was wrong, something was horribly wrong.
“Great Titan, please help us! Fire scorches Cybertron and we cannot endure!” He listened and observed in terror as great swathes of fire came from the nearest star, whipping across Cybertron and cutting down Predacon and Cybertronian alike in equal measure. The fires turned his shining city a startling black, and he could sense his citizens huddling as far in his frame as they were able.
It would not be enough. The fires were only getting hotter and Fengari did not have the time or the resources to take to the stars with any of the security of Caminus and his citizens. He would have to take drastic measures to save as many of his citizens as possible.
It was agony tearing himself up from his rooted position after so long remaining immobile. Citizens were crushed in the transition, some falling prey to shattering streets and falling towers while others succumbed to the heat as their frames failed to endure. Fengari lamented every loss, but he could not stop. If he was to save any of them, he had to transform. He had to become mobile, even if that meant the deaths of a few.
He screamed as cables tore and his frame forced itself to reconfigure. His Speaker cried as more and more were lost, but those who he could save were ushered into his core to hopefully be kept safe. Fire ran along his frame as his limbs reformed and he pulled himself from ash and dust. He screamed and his voice rang out for the first time in almost an entire age. He hardly paid any mind to the pain of his fellow Titans as they too frantically scrambled to escape the fires.
He wasn’t ready to move. It had been too long and his frame was too rigid. He hadn’t had time to prepare, and already he was going to have to transform again. The screams of his fellow Titans told him that the fires were everywhere. He had to abandon the surface, he had to somehow get to the skies. That would be his only salvation.
“I’m so sorry. I must get us free. We must escape.” He tried to soothe his citizens, but his core temperature was rising as he tried to fight off the fires. Parts of his plating melted as he hobbled and forced himself to walk for the first time since Caminus left. He prayed to Primus, he cried out to his Progenitor, his brothers, and anyone who would listen. It did nothing as he tried to run and force his battered body to become loose enough to facilitate yet another rushed transformation.
Parts of his former city were digging into his frame. The things built by his citizens that had once been so beautiful now tore into him like daggers which he could do nothing to remove as he ran with all the might in his body. He felt his citizens screaming. He heard them in his very spark. He had to run, he had to begin the transformation needed to take him up and away. He had never left the ground before, but he had seen fliers. There had to be a way.
“Forgive me.” He begged his citizens as he screamed. Fires grew, and scorching whips assaulted his face as he tried to look up to the stars and find a place to break through the atmosphere where the flame was not as brutal. His very fuel lines seemed to bubble and boil alongside his optics. Tears of energon fell from every orifice, but he could do nothing but force himself onward as thrusters tore their way out from under his armor, and city structures fell away in favor of the streamlined form of a space cruiser.
His vision fizzled and turned into a mess of pixels and colors as he finally leaped and pushed his broken body to function. The screams of his fellow Titans fell silent, and along with them, he felt the sickening cracks of hundreds of frames shattering within his own.
His thrusters roared as he tore through Cybertron’s skies and far away from the burning world he once called home. Primus would endure. He was safe from the fires far below the surface. But everything else was burned and black. Nothing remained, and most importantly, his citizens were no more.
The transformation had been too harsh. Those who had not fallen to the heat of his core or the flames outside had been crushed to death as he tried in vain to save them. He should have gone slower, but panic fueled his desperate flight. He was alone.
He watched for a time with increasingly failing vision as he wept over the loss of his citizens. But he saw no other Titans flee to the stars. He could no longer feel them, although that was to be expected without roots. There were no others, and for all he knew, he was the last of the Titans that lingered upon Cybertron after Caminus left.
The world around him became a mess of color that only came into focus when he drew near. He could no longer see as he used to. The fires had taken his home, his family, his citizens, and his sight. Everything, gone in an instant.
He had thought himself safe. He had basked in the rays of peace and brilliance. But now? His arrogance and pride had brought him low.
He was blinded by the very same light he once adored.
