Adrenaline, or its mechanical substitute, still hummed faintly through Xen’s circuits as he pressed himself against the cool, corrugated metal of the storage container.
The dash across the hazardous open ground had been nerve-wracking, each skittering footstep echoing far too loudly in his own audio receptors, despite his attempts at stealthy movement. He’d made it, though. He ran a quick diagnostic thought, confirming no new damage notifications had popped up during the sprint. HP: 81.0/100. EN: 32.8/150. Status unchanged, thankfully.
Now, for the reason he’d risked exposure: the faint Energon signal. He edged along the container's base, the sheer scale of it making him feel like an insect exploring a discarded appliance. The metal was cold, pitted with age and micro-impacts, and streaked with grime and rust stains that traced long paths from leaky seams or rivets near the top. The blocky Cybertronian script stenciled on its side was faded and chipped, utterly alien – a reminder that this wasn't just Earth junk, but remnants of an interstellar war.
He peered into the narrow, shadowed gap between this container and the next. It was maybe half a meter wide, choked with smaller debris – chunks of ferroconcrete, twisted rebar, and drifts of particulate matter. And there, nestled within the gloom, was the source. Not a clean, pulsing crystal this time, but something artificial, broken.
It was a small, metallic cylinder, maybe the length of his forearm, made of a dark grey alloy that felt subtly different from the surrounding steel and iron – smoother, denser. He recognized the material instantly; it was the same self-repairing alloy as the artifact fragment he’d tucked away back in his crevice shelter.
This immediately marked it as Cybertronian. The casing was cracked, a spiderweb fracture marring its otherwise sleek surface. Through this crack, tiny, fitful blue sparks sputtered, accompanied by an almost inaudible hiss, like escaping pressure. It was actively leaking energy into the environment, a slow, wasteful bleed.
This required a closer look, a proper analysis. Edging carefully into the cramped gap, mindful of sharp edges on the surrounding debris, Xen focused his intent. Scan target: damaged cylinder.
The scanner's blue shimmer pulsed, contained within the narrow space, momentarily illuminating the grimy walls and the damaged device.
The System’s analysis overlaid his vision, clearer now at point-blank range.
[Object Type: Cybertronian Power Cell (Micro-Scale) - Damaged] [Composition: Standard Cyber-Alloy Casing (Breached), Internal Energon Matrix (Depleting)] [Energy Signature: Trace - Fluctuating due to Containment Breach] [Status: Critically Damaged - Leaking Stored Energy - Potential for Unstable Discharge] [Analysis: Minor Energon Absorption Possible via Direct Induction. WARNING: Unstable component. Risk of minor energy feedback/damage.]
A power cell. Micro-Scale. Was that standard for Mini-Cons? Or just a common small component? Another piece of the Cybertronian puzzle. The warning, however, gave him pause. Unstable Discharge. Risk of minor energy feedback/damage. He thought back to RPGs he'd played. Cursed items, volatile potions, risky gambles that could pay off or blow up in your face. This felt like one of those moments. How much damage was "minor"? How likely was the "potential" discharge? His Lvl 1 [Basic Scan] offered no percentages, no further details. It was a pure gamble, weighed against the stark reality of his EN: 31.8.
That number felt like a physical weight, a constant drag on his systems. Even basic movement felt like it consumed too much. Could he afford not to take the risk?
He considered the potential gain versus the cost. If it yielded only a few points of Energon but cost him 5 HP, it would be a net loss, setting back his slow recovery significantly. But if it gave him 10 or 15 EN and only cost 1 or 2 HP… that could make a huge difference in his ability to explore further, to use his scanner more, to potentially find a real, stable Energon source.
The System prompted him again, sensing his focus on the damaged cell.
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He mentally pictured his HP bar, the small missing segment representing fractures and strains within his very frame. He pictured his Energon bar, hovering dangerously close to what felt like empty. The drive for survival, the ingrained gamer instinct to grab available resources, won out over caution. Decision: Yes.
He extended his hand, fingers outstretched, activating his [Micro-Manipulation] focus to ensure the steadiest possible approach. He didn't touch the cracked casing itself, aiming instead for the field of leaking energy just millimeters away from the sparking fissure. He mentally prepared himself for a shock, bracing his small frame.
As his fingertips entered the energy field, the arcing sparks within the crack intensified, turning a brighter, harsher blue. A tendril of energy leaped towards his hand – not the gentle flow from the crystal, but a jagged lance of power, sharp and painful, like jamming his fingers into a faulty electrical socket.
ZZZT!
An involuntary jolt shot through his arm and shoulder actuator. Red warning icons screamed across his HUD.
Two full hit points vanished in a blink. The jolt left a faint, staticky tingling in his arm circuits. But through the sharp shock, energy flowed – a desperate, needed infusion. Raw, untamed, but undeniably Energon.
The influx ceased almost as quickly as it began. The sparking within the power cell sputtered one last time and died. The faint blue glow vanished completely, leaving the cracked cylinder looking inert and lifeless. The scan updated: [Cybertronian Power Cell (Micro-Scale) - Depleted / Non-Functional].
He pulled his hand back sharply, flexing his fingers, rotating his shoulder. Everything felt okay, despite the HP loss and the lingering tingle. A quick internal diagnostic check revealed no new specific component warnings beyond the HP drop. He’d gained 8 precious Energon, pushing him just slightly further from the immediate danger zone, but the cost – 2 HP that would take nearly a full day to regenerate naturally – felt steep. Lesson learned: unstable energy sources were a desperation tactic, not a reliable refueling method.
A notification confirmed the System's view on the matter.
<+5 XP Gained! (Resource Acquisition - Risky)>
Risk acknowledged, small reward granted. XP: 65/100. Still a long way from Level 2.
Xen backed carefully out of the narrow gap between the containers, his thoughts racing. He needed a moment to reassess. He leaned against the container wall again, hidden from the main pathways of the scrap heap.
Status check. HP: 79.0/100. EN: 39.8/150. XP: 65/100. Skills unchanged, except for [Basic Scan] proficiency sitting at 0.6%. His [Sheltered] buff was gone, so HP regen was effectively paused until he found another secure spot or got his VIT or repair skills much higher.
What now? The immediate area around the containers seemed clear, but he hadn't scanned it since draining the power cell. Could its energy field have been masking something else?
Scan target: Area around containers. Focus: Energy Signatures & Structural Integrity.
The pulse expanded outwards, mapping the immediate vicinity.
The results showed the now-inert power cell, the stable containers, and the surrounding debris piles. No new energy signatures popped up. However, the scan did highlight something new on the ground near the base of the containers, partially obscured by dust and small pebbles – faint lines in the compacted earth. [Trace Markings Detected - Possible Tracks/Scraping - Origin Unknown - Age Indeterminate (Appears Old)].
Tracks. Not fresh, the scan indicated they seemed old, but something had passed through here, something heavy or sharp enough to leave marks even on this hard-packed ground. Xen zoomed his optics. He could just make out shallow grooves, partially filled in. Were they from animals? Other bots? Just the result of shifting scrap long ago? Impossible to tell with his current abilities. It added another layer of unease to the environment.
He also scanned the container wall he was leaning against. [Storage Container - Reinforced Alloy - Structural Integrity High - Minor Surface Corrosion]. Solid enough.
Okay. Tracks meant this wasn't entirely untraveled territory. Energon was still low. HP was lower than when he'd left the crevice. Pressing onward felt increasingly risky. Returning to the shelter seemed the more logical, cautious choice. He could regain those two HP eventually, meagre though the rate was. He could analyze the artifact fragment more, perhaps. He could plan his next move from relative safety.
Yes. Back to the crevice. It wasn't progress, perhaps, but it was survival. He needed to be smarter, less reckless, especially after that gamble with the power cell.
He prepared to move, tensing his legs for a quiet, careful return trip, planning to stick close to cover as much as possible. The thought of the secure crevice, however cramped and dark, felt suddenly very appealing.