Black Blurr // Immortal Sonata in the Key of Black
The dull hum of machinery was the first sound to reach his audials. It was an unending, but reassuring sound, filling the void of silence. It helped him to relax, and he settled back on the cushioned surface he was lying on.
He was vaguely aware of the presence of figures nearby, their voices collectively the second sound to reach his audials. He could barely understand what they were saying, coming as distant words in the darkness.
"…finally coming online?"
Somewhere in his tangled subconscious mind, he faintly wondered what something like that might mean. Were they referring to him?
A second voice answered that sounded like the machinery. It wasn't so much a hum as a buzz, and he couldn't make out anything it was saying. The words were too confusing, the voice too quiet and mechanical.
The other voices seemed to understand, however, and more strange words were exchanged among them. The only thing he managed to catch, near the end of their exchange was;
"…take it out of stasis."
There was a tugging on various parts of his body. He felt a sharp pain in his neck, then a warm sensation in his chest. He moaned softly, and then, all at once, a bright light overtook the blackness in his vision.
He winced as his optics tried to adjust. The light was a burning, fluorescent white, and directed right at his faceplate. He made a low noise of displeasure and sat up quickly, leaning forward so that the light shone on his upper back.
He looked around the room, black spots clouding his vision. There were strange people gathered around him, all intently watching him, mumbling to one another, patting each other on the back. They seemed happy about something.
Past them, large machines and all varieties of equipment he could never hope to identify towered high over the room; at their bases, various cables ran along the ground, connecting the equipment to the walls and to other machines.
There were several counters, all kinds of strange-looking things spread across their surfaces, and a few rising cabinets, contents concealed behind electronic-padlocked doors. At the opposite side of the room, there was a steel staircase rising up over a door and several stacked crates. At the top, there was a second level within the room, and even more foreign and intriguing things up there to see.
All around him, there were more things without name or reason. His thoughts were rapid, his processor taking in all of it and considering each object, taking in its shape and wondering its purpose in a matter of mere nanokliks.
Still coming out of his drowsy state, he found his mind working at a speed he could barely handle, and it was giving him a splitting cerebro-circuit overload. He was gathering information faster than his foggy mind could sort it all through, and his systems were becoming confused.
Hissing loudly, he clutched his helm, his belly clenching as he leaned further forward to try and deal with the pain. The strange people around him came closer, and servos touched his helm and body. He wanted them to get away from him, to stop touching him; they were as strange to him as the equipment, and their presence was making his pain worse.
All at once, he was forced back and slammed down onto the table. He looked up with widened optics, before shutting them again, blinded once more by the penetrating light. He began to thrash furiously, but the servos held fast, pinning his slender body against the surface.
His jaws were grasped by strong servos and forced open. Gloved fingers poked around in his mouth, then withdrew, only to be replaced by a cold fluid poured without warning straight into his intake. He gagged, but didn't spit it back up.
His vents clicked open, trying to cool his overheated systems. After a few kliks, the liquid started to work, and he found himself beginning to calm down. His overworking fuel pump slowed to its normal speed, the ache began to subside as he stopped trying to process all the information, and his body—particularly his engine—cooled to its regular temperature.
"Take its vitals." The machine-voice said simply.
Now that he'd stopped thrashing and had relaxed for the most part, the servos pinning him released. One of the strange figures adjusted one of many cords attached to his body, and another checked a monitor set next to his worktable berth. In spite of his previous fear, for some reason, now, he felt… calm.
One of the voices started reading off numbers… What did they mean? Were those the "vitals"? Vital…signs? That must be it.
"Did it accept the entire vial of the sedative?" Asked the mechanized voice.
"Yes sir," Another voice responded calmly, "Master Perceptor."
"Good," The first—apparently called 'Master Perceptor'—said. "Now step back. Before there are any other menial, time-squandering interruptions, I am going to personally address it."
Someone reached over and moved the light and directed it away from his optics. He blinked as his optics adjusted once more, and saw before him a slender red mech with a cold air and a calculating gaze that came from above sharp yellow glasses. There was an aura to this mech that unnerved him, something about him that told him that he was dangerous.
When the mech spoke, it was immediately clear that this must be the "Master Perceptor", his voice mechanical and unmistakable.
"Tell me, can you understand what I am saying?" Master Perceptor asked.
He sat up, but found himself only becoming more nervous at optic-level with Master Perceptor, that cold stare boring into him.
"I… Y… Yes…?" His voice felt strange coming out. It was unfamiliar and new to him. It strained slightly, trying to go much faster than he was ready to go.
"Then the preliminary programming has been successful." Master Perceptor confirmed. "You still require a great deal of education, however. As a superior member of the Elite Guard, are you able to recall your formal designation?"
"I…" He paused, considering the question. What was his designation?
It was something to do with speed, he was certain. He didn't seem to remember much… There was a gap in his memory spanning several stellar cycles. The feeling was so strange; even if there was a hole, he did still had memories. And yet, he felt like a protoform, unfamiliar with the world and even with his own body.
What was it? If only he could remember.
He remained silent in his thought for several cycles before finally Master Perceptor gave him the answer.
"Blurr." Master Perceptor said. "Your formal designation is Blurr. Try to bear that in mind." He then turned back to the others. "Begin its education immediately. I have issues to discuss with Wheeljack and will return shortly to run further tests on its body."
The others voiced unanimous agreement and eagerly did what Master Perceptor ordered them to do. The red mech walked past them with purpose, went up the stairs and vanished out the door, leaving Blurr to his loyal subjects.