“What’s up with this inky black stuff in your part of the lab?” He asked, poking it with his sword to see if it was solid.
The Decepticon guard shrugs.
The Autobot guard leaves, returning to Juliana (@ProfSrlojohn).
The veil was not solid. It shimmered as Zepar’s blade passed through it.
“Oh, that’s the map,” Grommet explains from within. “It’s had a slight upgrade, it seems.”
Juliana saw the autobot return.
Zepar steps into the projection.
“Wait, really? How do you know?”
@Toa_Vladin @meepinater @ToaNoah_Wafflemeister @BlackBeltGamer98 @Jcton @ProfSrlojohn
Salvation glides over the endless seas of Omega, patches of crimson and violet line washing over her hull from two ravines flanking her on either side. Evening was now giving away to night on this part of the planet, and the last remnants of the orange sun could be seen dipping below the horizon, behind a massive, irregularly-shaped landmass marbled with a spiderweb-like pattern of immense canyons that threw towering walls of stark white light up into the sky. Smaller ravines within and around the web glowed with the violet, vermilion, verdant, and cyan lights that our heroes had already seen in abundance throughout Omega. The curtains of light shone brightly in the approaching night, working with the hundreds of stars emerging in the clear sky to produce an ambiance that some might find beautiful.
The coordinates provided by Sidewinder were leading Salvation toward two smaller islands up ahead: slim, crescent-shaped landmasses taken up largely by sheer, rocky cliffs adorned with techno-organic foliage and ancient cybertronian machinery, caked with rust and grime, jutting from the stone.
The Autobot jerks his thumb back to the infirmary.
“I think he’s good,” he says.
Zepar would see Grommet and SideStep standing in the midst of a field of darkness marbled with tiny, photorealistic depictions of stars, planets, and other stellar bodies, along with strings of cyberglyphic text.
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Zepar tries to read the text.
The text mostly consisted of coordinates and verses from The Covenant of Primus. Zepar might notice that some strings at the flickering and frayed edges of the map seemed fragmented, incomplete. What any of these had once meant to say was a mystery that Sprocket, try as he might, had yet to solve.
Zepar tries to read these incomplete parts, curious.
“W-where is he?” She asked.
These fragments were void of all meaning. What they once said was anyone’s guess.
Col-…-ag… Astrum… 111199574.2357… Spirab-… 13975-
…-my, there will be Salvation-…
…-ock… shattered… keys…
…Rejuvenation… 2097456.45.1274-…
All these, and many more, were but some of the nonsense that littered the fringes of the map.
“He’s in the infirmary,” the Autobot guard says. “Doc just finished digging that bullet out of his chest not too long ago.”
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OOC: Wait. Astrum? Spirabillis(?)? And these numbers…I want to say they look like dates of some sort.
IC: Zepar raised an eyebrow in curiosity at this and tried to read more.
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“That’s good! Which way do I go?”
OOC: honestly, the numbers are more gibberish than anything meaningful.
IC:
The rest of the fragments were just more nonsense. There was little to be gleaned from them right now.
“Just follow me,” the Autobot says.
Zepar tried to read the complete strings of text.
“O-ok!” She says, and then she follows him.
“H3aled h3r!” Spectrum cheered happily, transforming her hands into medical tools.
“You shouldn’t say that…since you don’t know the full story.”
Actaeon lets out a concerned sigh,
“Anyways we wanted to put a mug in every bots hand…”
Gesturing at Facelift,
“Tho he wanted to replace said hands with a mug, and have a giant toast.”
“Maybe not. I apologize.”
Daria sighs,
“It’s not a huge issue, I never told you the whole thing, so I shouldn’t expect you to know the entire thing. It’s more of a common courtesy not to assume someone’s past.”