OriBurst~a geek n an artist

I suppose my actions did conflict with that title. 

My words and actions caused this bot to assume I was a spy. A Decepticon in the making.

Once long ago ,I learned what a wasp was on Earth. A tiny fierce organic creature. Stronger than a Bee, but less appreciated. Their lives were similar and purposes linear.

A wasp born of grotesque nature. Both giving and taking life. The fig wasp birthed inside the fruit it is named after. The mother wasp burying itself in the unripe fruit and laying eggs until it dies. 

Unlike the bee, there was nothing beautiful about the wasp's existence. Both Bee and Wasp had the same goal of pollination. But one got the glory.

"I will get you Bumblebee, if it is the last thing I do…" 

That's right.I had been taken away.

Taken away from my dream.

From my home.

From my bots.

From the life I had once believed was waiting for me.

And in its place, something else had grown. Revenge. Hatred.

Then I was rebirthed. Like the wasp, my new maker placed me inside a cacoon so I can emerge into something stronger. 

The old bot remained trapped beneath that new exterior, wrapped in the warmth of a memory I could no longer reach. Buried deep inside the armor, where the softer parts of me could remain untouched.

"It's Waspinator now…" I growl. 

The old bot thrashes in my spark. Crying out forgiveness and pain. A lack of stability between the old bot and new making my mind lurch.

I'm sorry.

Please.

I didn't mean to.

Forgive me.

His voice is unbearable. A reminder of the weak bug I once was.

I lunge at the Bee, my claws around it's neck. Their blue optics reflect back the image of what I am. An amalgamation of organic and tech. Organic material has twisted through the metal, creeping between armor plates like something that was never meant to exist beneath them. My claws dig into the Bee's armor. My denta sharpened and are exposed.

"Wasp…" the Bee gasps. "Please…"

A bot who was once distant, now dragged violently into the present. A familiar face twisted into something neither of us recognizes. I can almost remember what it felt like to stand beside him, to be a cadet with nothing more than ambition and a foolish belief that I could become something worthy.

For one brief moment, the old bot surfaces.

He sees the Bee.

He remembers.

And then the hunger returns.

That part of me is too weak to fight the call for revenge, the instinct carved so deeply into my wiring that it feels older than thought itself.

He took your life.

He took everything from you.

The whispers crawl through my processor.

The old bot screams against them.

"No."

My claws tighten.

"Please..."

I bare my denta.

The Bee's blue optics flicker again, still searching my face for the bot he remembers.

But Wasp is buried beneath the shell now.