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His thoughts were cycling in fervor, forcing his vents to break the monotone beeping. He grabbed his helm, his optics widening in response to what was beyond the red signals, deep inside the machinery.
Red Alert sat against the wall, in the dark hall lit by the faint, pulsing glow of red in the distance. It was quieter inside his helm, for the time being, numbing at the edges. And yet the ever-present restlessness kept on digging into his circuitry, burrowing itself out of reach. He clutched his servo, feeling the jagged edge of the object. He craned his helm to gaze at the small piece of Inferno’s wing.
The surroundings were near blinding. He moved his helm side to side, tracking the bots who were strolling about, minding their own business. ”Inferno?” He started moving, faster and faster, until he was running. His spark beat louder and louder. ”Inferno!” He called, dashing past the countless stream of bots. He occasionally clashed against their metal, except nothing was left in his wake, not even for his vigilant sensors to pick up on.
A white, glistening sky. No one was around. But Inferno. He was going, Primus knows where. Anxiety pushed Red Alert to grab him by the arm without a second thought. Inferno turned slightly. He was smiling at him with such vibrant softness that for a moment, he forgot about the static of worry emanating from his frame.
The hard edges he traced with his digits. He couldn’t let go of it, even if he wanted to.