Chapter Text
Starscream didn’t know how long he had been floating in this black void for.
But for all that had been said, death hasn’t been interesting for him so far. Just that it was cold and dark and that he was unbearably bored. He'd decided (in a bout of boredom) to name this place The Void. He forgot the name sometimes, then remembered it again, then doubted he’d ever named it in the first place. He might’ve done this a thousand times. Or once. Or never. He couldn't place how long into his solitude he'd come up with that title (haha void. Get it? Yeah. No, he didn't laugh either), as without chronometer to check, he had no idea how long he'd been floating for. Had it been vorns? Millennia? Entire wars could have risen and fallen beyond this dark — and he’d never know.
Vorns of The Void drowning out the thoughts in his head, leaving him hollow and empty. Empty and hollow. It was all the same
His energon had long been drained from his veins leaving nothing. His mind had stayed intact, but at what cost?
He'd scream until his voice broke. Wept, feral with the weight of his own loneliness and the unfairness of it all.
I stood by you. He’d shout into the silence. Millions of stellar cycles spent as your Second in Command—
Sometimes he spoke to The Void, knowing it listened—but didn't answer back.
It never answered back but he had convinced himself, for his own sanity’s sake, that it could. One day. Take pity on him, and respond to the deranged mutterings of a deadman. Was he dead? He felt dead.
The void swallowed all his screams, his rants, his mutterings, his tears. Soon enough, he had lost the energy to continue and stayed still with his thoughts.
The silence consumed his surroundings. The hard, uncomfortable throne that he had once sat on started to fade away, along with the last thing he’d seen: the snarling faces of the Predacons melting into static. Sometimes he remembered begging. Other times he remembered fighting. He wasn’t sure anymore which memory was true, or if either had ever happened.
Even Megatron’s face—etched once in rage and awe—had dulled to a smear of gray.
The feelings of anger and vengeance had been swept under the rug, with no one to rant to… what was the point? He is nothing now. There is no body to gawk at, just him and this darkness. Was there even a ‘him’ left?
It was just black all around. There wasn’t a single spark around him either. If this was the Allspark, then he was sorely disappointed. The priests back on Cybertron had promised warmth, light — comfort. Honestly, he’d take the Pit over this!
Starscream scowled in anger, but the expression was quickly stolen off his face.
The more he thought about it, the more he could see that this was really a blessing in disguise.
Here, in the depths of The Void, no one could hurt him. And there was no one for him to hurt either.
Starscream had lived for millions of millennia. Those millennium wasted on him going through pain, fear, and shame. But, for once he had not felt any of those things here… it can even be called peaceful.
The Void steals all things with time, slowly, but surely it had taken his ambitions, his power, his vengeance. He was forgetting. Gradually. But, forgetting all the same. He clung onto fragments—his wings, his title, his name. But even those began to slip. Those days were the hardest.
“Starscream,” he’d whisper.
Then again.
Then screamed.
Sometimes the word echoed. Sometimes it didn’t.
Other times, the name rang hollow — like someone else’s title. Like a story he'd been told, not a life he'd lived.
Sometimes he wasn’t even sure if it was his name.
It was maddening—this... not knowing. Was this real? Was any of it?
He could hear them now. Skywarp’s manic giggles curling like smoke around the edges of his processor. Thundercracker’s low, patient murmurs—judging. Waiting. They were taunting him. THEY WERE TAUNTING HIM. This place was eating him alive. IT WAS RUINING HIM. He could feel their optics staring daggers into his 'dead' spark. They wanted him gone. Vanished. It wasn’t his fault… IT WASN’T.
How much longer could he take this? This silence. This insanity. He was getting worse by every passing moment, he could feel it. The way his voice started to whimper- losing its edge, its spark. Ha SPARK! get it? no no no no. Stop. Stop that. You went off the rails again. Why does this keep happening...? A croaking sound left his vocalizer. Why does this keep happening...?
He wanted to hold onto the peace that this Void had provided him with. He needed to. Anything was better than listening to them. A manic giggle started to invade into his processor, the Void quickly flicked it away- back into the dark. This silence… it was his refuge.
Megatron’s face dulled. The screams of the Predacons blurred into static. He could no longer remember if he fought back, or simply begged. His own voice—sharp, proud, relentless—faded to a whisper in his mind. The voices that littered in the background had faded into static a cold numbness washing over his frame.
But the weight of betrayal clawed at his thoughts, relentless and unforgiving. No… He couldn’t help but feel anger (how much longer would this last for?) at how his ‘glorious’ master Megatron had just abandoned the Decepticon cause like that! How could he- after everything that he had suffered by being his Second in Command, this is the thanks he gets?! After everything he had been through, the lies- the scheming- all of it was, just, A WASTE OF TIME.
He had spent several million stellar cycles standing next to that dark energon-infested glitch, just for his ending to be done by one of- eugh- Shockwave’s mindless beasts. Before he could continue, a sigh escaped Starscream and his face slacked in defeat. The rage that once drove him burned low, smothered by exhaustion.
It was funny. Allspark, Pit, Void—it didn’t matter. They were all the same in the end. Just different lies told by different fools to distract themselves from the silence, that is now his haven.
He was tired.
So fragging tired.
And for the first time in vorns, Starscream let himself float into nothing.
He just wanted to rest and what better place to do it than in the Void.
So, he clawed onto the peace that The Void's isolation gave him.
He held onto that peace like you’d hold a blade.
Careful. With a strong grip. Fully aware that if he loosened his hold, that same peace which once provided him comfort would turn on him.
Cut deep. Remind him of the ache that comes with forgetting.
If his optics are open, he closes them. He lets himself rest for once. There are no more Decepticons, no more Autobots and especially… no more Megatron. It is just him and this void. He oddly feels at peace with that thought- that Megatron has no power over him anymore, that he cannot command by him anymore. No more chains, no more beatings. He is his own Master now.
So, for the first time in vorns, Starscream breathes in silence and rests. His story has finished; the book has come to a close. The great Starscream’s ambitions have been stolen. The desperate need to prove himself to a cause he once believed in has been silenced. There is no need to prove yourself anymore.
_[< , ÷: ÷= &!# /[
Something shocked him from his slumber.
Wha-
The tug came again, not from an outside force, but from something within. Confused, he looked down expecting nothing but darkness, but instead he saw something.
How long has it been since he’d seen anything at all?
A faint blue light pulsed in the distance. Gentle. Persistent. Alive.
He didn’t know why, but the sight of it caused his expired spark to tug harder, aching with something he couldn’t name. Before he realized, he was already moving towards it, drawn by instinct alone. The light pulsed brighter and brighter the closer he got. Each pulse radiating waves of comfort that warped his dim spark. It didn’t make sense- nothing did here – but the light stirred the memories of large white servos and the clear purple skies of Vos.
“Sky…fire?” he whispered.
His servos trembled as he reached out and cupped the light, pulling it gently towards his chest like something precious. Something lost.
The glow shimmered — not harsh or blinding, but gentle. Familiar. Like the warmth of a memory long buried beneath cold ambition.
He looked at it closer. The light it produced dripped along its edges with bright, viscous, gulps, but they never fell. It was almost reminiscent of the shifting contents within a lava lamp, just without it being encased. It was unbounded—free.
Starscream’s intake caught.
He had thought about Skyfire more times than he could count. His roommate. His friend. His partner. His Conjux. No matter how much time had passed, he never forgot him. Even within the Void, that name had echoed in the dark.
But he had always squashed those feelings deep within his processor. After all, what good is a Decepticon with a broken bond? He had never shared the memories of Skyfire with anyone after the death of his trine. How could he? Their deaths had brought nothing but pain, he had to bury them, he had to! If he didn’t… he wouldn’t have come this far.
Oh really? And where are you now? a faint whisper echoed.
But… if he thought hard enough, he could almost imagine those large servos caressing his back and the way his deep voice rumbled throughout his frame and the way his- no, no. Not now, not now. The light tugged and the memories of pain dispersed.
For a moment, he dared to believe the light would stay. That something—someone—might still be reaching for him. For the first time in vorns, he almost believed in hope. That was his first mistake.
His time within the Void was dulling his edges, smoothing them. How could he fall for something so obvious?
Slowly… the comfort it brought began to fade.
He didn’t know what went wrong, but the light within his servos started to flicker rapidly like a dying ember. Panic gripped Starscream as he held the light tighter, as if the warmth could anchor him in this place with no sky, no time.
Then it pulsed. Once. Twice. And then- it pulled.
Before he could register what was happening, he felt a sudden force surge outward from the core, like gravity turned inside out. The darkness that he was once familiar with started to warp and bend, spiralling around the light like a black hole in reverse.
It set off all the alarm bells in his head.
Danger Danger Danger—
Starscream tried to let go of the light, but found that he couldn’t. He tugged and pulled, but no matter how hard he tried the light didn’t let him go. A harsh tug within his dim spark caused Starscream to yelp in pain.
No! NO! STOP MERCY, MERCY PLEA- the dull ache of claws raking through his frame whispered from the edges of his mind. He thought he buried that ages ago.
It dragged him. And then-
It exploded.
Now, if Starscream wasn’t bombarded with the red notifications flashing within his processor, he might’ve been able to appreciate the odd light show the void had provided him with. But he wouldn’t, he couldn’t.
The light had begun to carve through the darkness. The void shattered like glass put under strain. Starscream screamed as multiple images rushed through his head. He couldn’t comprehend it. He saw himself, at least he thought it was himself—different frames, different paths, different fates. Some with trines. Some without. Some dead. Some triumphant. None of them him.
Or all of them.
What - What the frag is happening?!
A whisper echoed within his helm, gentle, familiar, but distant.
“You never had to.”
Who- what-?
But there was no time to register that thought before he felt something pulling him down. Ah slag not this again he thought bitterly, and the world turned into a flash of white, letting the force of gravity lure him somewhere other than here.