Prompt 006: Prowl
There’d been a city here once, before the cycle of bombardment and refortification had worn it down to cracks and stubby scrap piles. There was no shelter left to attract anyone. Any Bulks, that was.
He skulked through the overhangs and flooded crevices of the wasteland, shadowing the cluster of energy signatures not a hundred metres away. Oceanglide ducked gently under the water of his channel, following its bed with strong, smooth motions. It was almost a meditative state: his sensors on the targets, his hands and optics tracing a quiet route amid darkened walls and waters, comm systems pinging and answering his distant brothers as they closed their noose.
They had learned to move quietly out of terror. Fear of being noticed, found, dragged from shelter. Nothing good could come of a Bulk’s attention - or a Minicon’s.
Stealth meant something different now.
He resurfaced in a shadowed bend and caught sight of his unwary prey for the first time. They were too many and too badly shielded to sneak. They must have trekked for days to get this far into the wasted sector. They were tired, by now: had given up jumping at every skitter and splash of wind-blown shrapnel. What was the point? They were listening for the rumble of engines, the deep, resounding steps of bots far bigger than they were. And still they glanced out into the darkness, the coloured lights of their optics turning back and forth uneasily, brighter than they should be. Afraid of what might - what did - lurk in the darkness.
Oceanglide watched them with low-lit optics for a few long cycles, and wondered what to make of the fact he was having fun.