Carry My Will [Transformers]

Sea of Rust: Part 3

This wasn't right.
Why would his dream tell him to cross this?! This wasteland of ruin and death, where the very air vented in could kill them? What was so fragging important on the other side of the sea of rust?

"Drift? Buddy you okay there? You look like you swallowed a scraplet." Hot Rod worriedly asked, gently shaking his Amica by the shoulders while standing in front of him. Even though he wasn't into that whole spirituality thing, Hot Rod knew that Drift felt things. Could see things no one else could. Was this a mistake? Hot Rod thought to himself, seeing the faraway look in his best friends' optics. Drift blinked rapidly as he was brought out of his musings and his sense of self snapped back into place - and feeling those sorrowful and anger induced emotions fade away from him. He looks into Hot Rod's worried optics and smiles a bit, trying to be reassuring. "Don't worry, I'm fine. Just...getting a lot of emotions is all." Hot Rod takes this explanation with a nod and lets the other bot go. "Okay, well. If you're sure."

Magnus walks over and places his servos each on their shoulders and gently grips them. "It doesn't look like this planet produces any storms anymore. But I would still recommend that we don't go in." Drift didn't want to go in. Pit, he wasn't even sure why he suggested going in the first place! Hearing about it now, it's just a death trap.

"Aww, but why? We spent three hours coming here, the least we could do is explore it!" Hot Rod exclaimed, shocked that Ultra Magnus would just...waste time like this! The Ultra Magnus, the mech who loved saving time where he could and hated wasting time. Absolutely hated it! "I did this just to humor the both of you. We have no reason to go inside the wastelands. And besides, we don't have the equipment in the first place to filter out the acidic and dangerous particles in the air that covers the entirety of the sea of rust." Ultra Magnus replied and explained sternly, giving Hot Rod a slightly withering look that caught the young captain off guard. "Not only all that but the sea of rust is massive. It's why it's called a wasteland. Let us all head back and get some savaging in before night falls. None of us should be out here at nightfall. Not with those things out and about late at night." He turns the two slender around and gives them a gentle but firm push to get them to walk away.

Dirft felt both relieved and a sense of failure. There was something he was supposed to find at the other side of the wasteland...wasn't there? He could have sworn that there was something he was supposed to do. The white and red swordsmech just tuned out the complaining coming from his Amica, trying to remember what his dream last night had tried to tell him about.

"-nus! That's just not fair! We can't even go a few miles into the wasteland to look around? After all those horror stories-" Hot Rod was trying to get Magnus to change his mind about not going into the wasteland but the commander was steadfast in his decision not to go in. "And that is exactly why we are not going in, Hot Rod. You may be the captain and in charge, but I am your second in command and thus also act as your advisor on decisions like this. And I advise you not to go in there. There is a reason why those from the war are so fearful of the sea of rust Hot Rod. It's not a game, or a thrill ride." Drift could hear that Ultra magnus was getting close to just snapping at Hot Rod and guilt blossomed in his spark. It was his fault this was happening. All because of a stupid dream he doesn't even remember fully and his intake running away with words before he could think about what to say. "Mags there didn't even look like there was a storm. Why can't we go now?" Hot Rod stubbornly dug the heels of his pedes into the ground, stopping Ultra Magnus from pushing him further away from the sea of rust behind them. "Hot Rod, stop being such a stubborn aft and get moving. Otherwise I will just throw you over my shoulder and carry you all the way back and lock you inside your room." Came the very serious reply from the larger mech and Hot Rod gave him a wide eyes look as he turns to face him before he narrows his bright blue optics in challenge and places his golden colored servos on his hip plating and glares up at the commander. "Oh you are, are you?"

The large mech looked unimpressed and with a swift and quick movement he grabs onto Hot Rod and flips the smaller mech onto his shoulder, locking his arm around the slender waist firmly so the other couldn't wiggle his way out. "Hey! Hey put me down!" Drift's best friend shouted angrily as he began to struggle. It was funny to watch his Amica flail like a youngling while the second in command started to walk back in the direction they came from, not even flinching when Hot Rod began to pound on his back while spitting profanities. The swordsmech began to follow for a few steps before he stopped and turned back around to look out across the sea of rust. The most dangerous place on Cybertron. The faint echos, the remnants of the last things those fallen mechs and femmes had all felt, he felt those emotions and Drift had to close his optics tightly to keep himself from leaking fluid from his optics, the despairing emotions crashing into him as those who had died called out for help...for salvation. Something the mech couldn't give them. They had imprinted on that land and thatis where they would unfortunately stay until Cybertron crumbled and became nothing but more hunks of floating space rock.

"Drift! Why are you standing there? Come on before I leave you behind." The stern voice of Ultra Magnus cut through the overwhelming emotions and Drift swiftly turns his back on the wasteland and quickly runs to catch up with his commanding officer. "Sorry! Just had something on my mind is all." He replied sheepishly and Magnus just grunts softly at his weak apology. It was quiet between them as Hot Rod finally gave up and just let himself be carried, looking like a sparkling who got told 'no you can't have more sweets before dinner'. Drift cared deeply for his Amica, he really did, but he couldn't help but feel like this was poetic justice for all the times he himself was put into an embarrassing situation. Like that one time when they were younglings and exploring the forest behind Hot Rod's habsuite late at night looking for scary monsters...

-

"Come on Drift it'll be fun! We can be like...like uh...those spirit hunters! Yeah! We can be those like what my Carrier and Sire love to watch on the TV!" A boyish and excited squeaky voice shouted practically into a youngling Drift's audio receptor. The little mech who practically screamed that was none other than his friend Hot Rod, little spoiler winglets flicking and fluttering, practically vibrating. "I dunno...my caretakers wouldn't like it too much if I broke curfew..." Drift mumbled unsurely. He was such a a shy child, not really one to speak loudly unless it was in defence of someone or he was mad. Besides, Hot Rod had enough of a voice for the both of them. "Well your caretakers don't have to know! You can spend the night at my place, my Carrier and Sire won't mind at all. They love you!" Hot Rod grabs onto Drift's servos with his own in a crushing grip.

"O....okay." Drift mumbled softly, a slight flush to his faceplates from embarrassment. Hot Rod gave him a big grin. "Yay!"