Silence stretched, punctuated only by the low whistle of wind finding its way through the labyrinthine passages of the scrap heap. Xen remained tucked just inside the threshold of the crevice, his optical sensors utilizing their zoom function, painting a slightly magnified, granular view of the world outside onto his internal display.
He scanned the area methodically, left to right, then up and down, searching for any sign of movement, any clue to the source of the earlier disturbance.
The scene was one of utter desolation, rendered in shades of rust, grey, and brown under the perpetually overcast sky. Twisted metal beams lay like fallen titans. A stack of flattened vehicles slumped nearby, their faded paint barely hinting at former colours. He could see the spot where the loud clang had likely originated – a cascade of smaller metallic pieces had slid down from a higher pile, leaving a fresh scar of displaced debris. It could have been random scrapfall.
The weight of these junk mountains must be immense, constantly settling, shifting. But the violence of the sound still left him uneasy.
He spent a good five minutes observing, motionless except for the slight adjustments of his head and optics. His internal chronometer tracked the passage of time, and a faint notification confirmed his passive healing was indeed working, however slowly.
Half a hit point recovered. Better than nothing, but hardly reassuring. His Energon, however, remained static at a concerning 33.8/150. The artifact fragment inside the crevice was a curiosity for later; survival now demanded fuel. He couldn't just wait in here until his energy reserves completely drained.
The decision solidified. He had to risk it. He had to find more Energon.
Okay, plan. Short recon. Stay low, stay quiet. Use the scanner sparingly. Find an energy signature, assess, retrieve if possible, return. It sounded simple, but felt fraught with peril.
He considered activating the [Audio Dampener] again, but the steady drain was too costly right now. He'd rely on his DEX 12, the [Micro-Manipulation] passive enhancing his careful movements, and sheer caution.
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Taking one last scan of the immediate exterior with his optics, Xen tensed his leg actuators and smoothly, quietly, stepped out from the crevice's narrow mouth back into the relative openness of the scrap heap floor.
The sense of exposure returned instantly, prickling along his circuits. The wind felt colder here, carrying faint, unidentifiable chemical smells alongside the omnipresent rust and ozone.
The sounds of the heap seemed louder, more distinct – creaks, groans, the distant skittering of unseen things. He felt terribly small and vulnerable again.
He pressed himself low against the base of the massive engine block that formed one side of his shelter's entrance, using it as cover while his optics swept the area again. Nothing moved.
Alright, first step: information. Where to even start looking for Energon? His first scan hadn't revealed any sources nearby, other than the depleted one he'd already used. Maybe a slightly wider or more focused scan? It would cost energy he could barely spare, but moving blindly was suicide.
System, Basic Scan. Focus: Energy Signatures. Range: Maximum.
The blue pulse expanded outwards, perhaps a little fuzzier at the edges this time due to the specific focus parameter he'd tried to impose mentally.
The wireframe overlay flickered back into place, but this time, most objects remained dim outlines. Only specific points glowed, indicating detected energy. His own low Energon signature pulsed faintly from his position. The massive, dead Transformer nearby registered as
[Trace Energon Signature Detected - Source Unidentified - Signal Weak/Intermittent]
It wasn't much, barely a flicker compared to the crystal he'd found earlier, but it was something. It was a target.
Fifteen meters. More treacherous terrain lay between him and the potential fuel source. He'd have to leave the relative cover of the engine block and cross a more open area littered with smaller, unstable-looking debris.
He took another moment to assess the path. He could see a potential route, using a series of half-buried pipes and tilted plates as intermittent cover. He checked his HP again – still 81.0. Energon at 32.8. Every drop counted.
With a final mental bracing, Xen darted from behind the engine block, moving low and fast, his metallic feet making minimal sound on the packed earth and gravel between the larger pieces of scrap. He flowed over a rusted pipe, slid down a tilted sheet of metal, and paused behind a cluster of discarded tires, his head swiveling, optics constantly scanning. So far, so good. No alarms, no sudden movements from the shadows.
He was about halfway to the energy signature's location. The stack of storage containers loomed ahead. The trace signature seemed to be coming from behind them. He prepared for the next short dash, gathering his metallic legs under him.