Transformers: Revolution – Knightingale Flies Again and All Original Characters are Copyrighted 2017 Tomboyhns Productions. All Rights Reserved. Transformers is a Trademark of Hasbro.
She felt a jolt of life pour into her. She gasped as her optics flew open. She felt her whole body spazzing out, subconsciously checking to make sure all systems were functioning. The life-giving energy was now beginning to hurt. Her helm swimmed and spinned. Her chassis was tied in a knot. Her optics were open, but blurry. She couldn’t see where she was. All she could think and pray was that it would stop! She shot out her hands, reaching for the ceiling above her. Her chassis throbbed worse. The last moments she could remember flashed before her. She could see a ship being torn apart, debris flying towards her. She tossed and turned, trying to avoid what wasn’t even there. She flailed her hands, using an invisible sword to slash apart the black and purple figure attacking her. Once she saw a blurred, yellow figure, sprawled out, lifeless against the wall, she flew up straight. She cried. She tried to jump off the platform she was apparently lying on, but smacked her head on something and was propelled back. Her helm seared again. She screamed, screamed in terror, her hands reaching desperately for something.
Then, it was over. She fell back down, scrunching up into a ball, panting, frightened, covering her eyes. She breathed in and out, in and out, trying everything she could to not cry, even though the temptation was eating at her. She sat there for about a minute, her gasping slowly desisting. She gulped, and moved her hands away from her face. It was then she realized: She had an audience watching her; a very, very strange audience.
There was an alien, scratch that, three of them, observing her. They were light pink, and looked organic…fleshy. The alien in front was wearing a dark green garment, while the ones behind him wore patterned garments. She stared back at them, with wide, green eyes. The dark green-garmented alien smiled, excitedly. “Congratulations, Dr. Albertson. You did it” it announced. That only made her even more frightened. It wasn’t the way it spoke that terrified her. They spoke such a foreign language, one she had never heard before, and yet she could understand clearly what it said! The alien stepped closer towards her. She scrambled to get away and hit her head on the wall. “Woah, woah! Easy!” the alien exclaimed. She didn’t care how much it hurt when she hit the solid, stone wall. She didn’t want to get anywhere near that organism! “Calm down! It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you” the alien said, calmly, raising its hands. “My name is Thomas. Thomas Morshower. I am not your enemy” it said. She stared at him, intensively. “Where am I?” she demanded. She jumped again. How could she speak their language!? “You are in Roswell, New Mexico. You are on a planet called ‘Earth’” it replied. “Earth…” She echoed. Her eyes darted about the room. Something was missing. “Where is he?” she asked, slowly, “Where’s my…my teammate?” Thomas Morshower looked confused. “There was no one else. You were by yourself” he replied, “Who are you referring to?” The memory replayed in her head, this time flying much faster. Ark…Prime…Destroyed…No… “No…” she mumbled. She tried to ask more questions, but she couldn’t remember what to ask about! Ark…Prime…Death…
She jumped. “No, no, no, no!” She began to scream. Her head started to hurt, struggling to remember. She couldn’t have been the only one…! Thomas Morshower started to get anxious at her screaming. More aliens appeared, all with the same patterned garments. Except this time, they looked more hostile. They approached her, intimidatingly. “WHERE-!?” She demanded, “NO-! WHERE-!?” One of the aliens pulled out an object from its garment: It was a container with clear liquid inside, with a very sharp, pointy edge on the bottom. Then, it darted to jump on her. “GET AWAY FROM ME!” She shouted. She put her hands out front of her, and pushed it as hard as she could. The alien flew back to the other side of the wall, impacting it speedily, then the ground, crying out in pain. She thrusted out her hand, expecting something to happen. But she didn’t hear anything. Her fatal mistake, was looking down. She scrambled back to the end of the wall. She screamed again in terror. Her chest started to throb again as she started panting again.
She looked exactly the same as the aliens!
Sure enough, her hands were just as fleshy pink as the aliens. She began to whimper. She had no words to say. Anything that came out was shouting rage. She tried to fight the aliens that were now piling on top of her, but it was no use. She felt something stab into her shoulder. She flicked it away, sending another alien flying backwards with spectacular force. It was too late. Her vision was already getting blurry. It wasn’t the spinning vision-type blur she saw before. She felt her entire body shutting down on her. Finally, she slumped over, limp, and unconscious.
“Scrap! I promised! I promised this wouldn’t happen again!
I’ll be back. Don’t you dare go offline! Wait for me.”
She opened her eyes. She felt herself drowning in something soft. Once her head cleared, she sat up. She was somewhere else. The room was white, and clean, rather than dark and threatening. She realized she was on a platform, but this time, it was puffy, and delicate.
The door opened. She jumped when she saw Thomas Morshower walk into the room, with a large, square object in his hands. She backed up against the wall, threatened. “It’s okay, I just want to talk to you” he said, calmly. She didn’t move. She just stared at him, observing closely his every move as he pulled a seat up to where she was sitting. He sighed, his hands folded, and smiling. “So, what’s your name?” he asked. She didn’t respond, cocking her head slightly, still cautious. “You…Have one, don’t you?” Thomas Morshower inquired. There was silence for a moment. Finally, she responded, almost rebelliously, “Knightingale.” Thomas Morshower raised an eyebrow. “Nightingale, huh?” He echoed, “That’s funny. On Earth, that’s the same name of a winged creature, called a ‘bird’.” Knightingale’s eyes softened a little.
“Yes. Tell me, Nightingale, have your people been here before?”
Knightingale didn’t answer. Her eyes sharpened again, as if she was threatened by any question relating to where she came from.
“Who were your people? I have seen that they are…mechanical beings. How were you created?”
Thomas Morshower sighed, disappointed. “You don’t trust me, do you?”
Knightingale spoke in a fire-spitting tone, “Forgive me, but you forcing me into this-” her face scrunched up in disgust, “-Fleshy body, doesn’t make your people look very friendly.”
Thomas Morshower rubbed his forehead, looking down at the floor, then looked back up. “Well, in my defense, it wasn’t my choice to make.” Then he added, “Your speech has improved rather quickly.”
Knightingale stopped talking. She turned her head away, burying them into her lap, refusing to speak any more.
“Alright, Nightingale. Someone will be back shortly to give you some…provisions. Here-” Something hit the bed. Knightingale looked up. It was the object he as holding. “This is what we humans call a ‘book’, It will give you an overview of what there is to know about Earth.” Knightingale stared at the book for a moment. The “book” was entitled, “World History” in gold letters. Her expression turned eager, eager to grab it. Thomas Morshower had some hope when she finally snatched it, admired the cover and pages for a moment, then began flipping through it. Thomas Morshower smiled, and started to walk out of the room. “This ‘book’ you have…” He he paused, and turned around. Knightingale held up the book. “It’s good. Can I have another?”
“You finished it already.”
“Your language, it’s…more primitive than mine.”
Thomas Morshower smiled. “Alright. I’ll bring you some more.”