Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Iacon City, the capital of Cybertron and home to many of the planet’s most celebrated inhabitants, shone brightly against the setting sun. The city looked flawless, a bright golden beacon near the planet’s north pole – something an offworlder would be surprised at, as just a few vorns ago, the planet had been ravaged by war. Thanks to the efforts of the Constructicons, though, the city had been restored to its former glory… something that didn’t sit completely well with some.

Within Iacon lies the Hall of Records, a building as old as the city itself. The Hall contains records of Cybertron’s history ever since the beginning of the Golden Age, and what little they had of beforehand were stories, though their truthfulness remained in question. Currently combing through these records was a young, bright Cybertronian. His body and arms were mostly red, with a bit of silver mixed in. His chest bore a windshield, his helm and lower legs a deep blue. He frowned as he looked over the records.

“Everything alright, Orion?”

Orion Pax turned to see Alpha Trion, his mentor, enter the room. Trion was an older bot, predating much of Cybertron’s population. Some believed him to be the last of the Firstforged, though no one was quite brave enough to ask.

“Oh, I’m fine, Senator,” he assured. “A bit… worried, but I’m fine.”

“Worried? About what?”

“Cybertron.” Orion glanced back at the computer. “I’ve analyzed the records. Combined with Zeta’s current ruling style and the growing influence of the Functionists’ teachings, I have a feeling that we may be heading towards something… bad. I mean, we have multiple parties opposed to them, but they keep getting shut down. The only one still untouched is the Reversionists, ever since… the point is, the planet’s going downhill, fast.”

“I know.”

Orion glanced back at the elderly bot. “You do?”

“Of course,” Alpha Trion said with a smile. “I look over these records every day, Pax. I’ve seen the patterns, too. And I fear if we continue on this path, we may end up facing threats worse than even SCRASH.”

“I doubt that,” Orion muttered. “Based on the records, SCRASH was a… special case.”

“Well, the records aren’t everything, Orion,” Trion noted. “I was active during the war, as most already know. SCRASH may have been different, but it… he saw something we did not. According to the defectors’ reports, he knew of some unforeseen disaster, one we know nothing of.”

“I…”

“But I shouldn’t bore you with these tales,” Trion said, smiling. “I believe you had an event planned with your friends?”

Orion’s optics widened. “Oh, right!”

“Before you ask, Pax, yes, you can go.”

“Thank you!”

Orion assumed his small truck mode and drove off as Trion watched on, a smile on his face.

“Hurry up, Pipes, we’re gonna be late!” Cliffjumper called out as he sped towards the Kaon arena. His blue friend followed him close behind.

“Where’s Hubcap?” Pipes asked. “Wasn’t he supposed to come?”

“He was, but Highbrow held him up,” Cliffjumper replied. “Typical of him to ruin the fun.”

“At least it’s not Prowl,” Pipes offered.

The red car groaned. “Oh, don’t get me started.”

The two rolled up to the entrance, assuming their robot modes and dropping some Shanix into Calcar’s hand.

“Aren’t we going to wait for him?” Pipes asked, glancing behind him to see if Hubcap would pull up.

“Nah,” Cliffjumper remarked. “He’ll take too long. Besides, the matches are about to start, so let’s get moving!”

Pipes sighed, but followed Cliffjumper into the stands, where they took their seats for the upcoming gladiatorial match.

Two mining vehicles rolled through Iacon, one silver, one purple.

T hey stopped and assumed their robot modes in front of an apparently average building, it’s most notable standout being a massive sign reading “Maccadam’s Old Oil House” mounted above the door. One of them was silver, with a black helm, and the other was purple and yellow with a drill on his shoulder.

“So, 16, who’s this guy you wanted me to meet?” T-06, the purple and yellow one asked.

D-16, the silver one, smiled. “Kiloton is an old friend of mine. Believe me, you’ll love him. Just… don’t get too upset over his job.”

“Which is?”

“Security Operations.”

06’s face soured. “Of course. Sec-Ops.”

“He’s opposed to Functionism, I assure you.”

T-06 huffed. “Well, I’ll give ‘im a chance.”

D-16 smiled. “Thank you, 06.”

The two entered the building, the doors sliding open to let them in. Maccadam’s Old Oil House was one of the most successful and  well-renowned establishments on Cybertron. A bar run by the titular Maccadam, violence was strictly forbidden. It was a place where all Cybertronians, regardless of standing or political ideals, could meet, talk, drink, and generally have fun. Discrimination was practically nonexistent, outside of the occasional thug.

A brown Cybertronian sat at the bar. When D-16 and T 06 entered, he glanced back towards the door. Upon recognizing his friend, he smiled.

“16!” he called out cheerfully. “Over here!”

The silver miner quickly singled out his friend and rushed over, with 06 following close behind.

“It’s so good to see you again, Kiloton,” D-16 said, a smile on his face.

“Nice to see you, too, 16.” Kiloton glanced over at 06. “And who’s this?”

“Oh, this is T-06,” 16 replied. “A fellow miner working under Scorponok.”

“‘Sup.” T-06 nodded.

Kiloton sighed. “Okay, guys, seriously, have you even considered getting names?”

“I… suppose the thought never crossed my mind,” D-16 replied.

“‘Course I have,” 06 added. “Haven’t decided on one yet. Jeez, 16, you gotta get a bit of ambition. How else’re we gonna get close to getting the Funtionists outta power?”

“I… suppose you are right,” D-16 responded. “I just don’t want to get too much ambition. We do not want to destroy them – just take them out of power.”

06 rolled his optics. “Like that’ll work.”

Kiloton chuckled. “Guys, guys, let’s stop all this political talk. How ' bout I get us some drinks?”

T-06 grinned. “Get me a Metroplex.”

Kiloton’s red optics widened. “ Ambitious, are we?”

“Oh, ha-ha. I can handle it.”

Kiloton smiled. “I’ll let Maccadam know you said that.”

The three laughed, unaware of the events unfolding elsewhere.

Megatron blinked as the memory faded away. He sighed as he sat alone in the waiting room. His match was up next, after the current one ended. He glanced up at the viewscreen to see how it was going.

On the screen, he watched as Quake lifted Corkscrew over his head and tossed him across the ring. Before the smaller gladiator could rise, Quake was on top of him again, pounding him into the ground. He rose and prepared to deliver the final blow.

“Game!”

Quake froze at the sound of Circuit’s voice echoing across the arena.

“Quake wins!”

Quake blinked, then glanced down at Corkscrew.

“Quake, it’s over,” Clench growled from the sideline. “You know the rules.”

After a moment of hesitation, Quake lowered his arms. He stormed off the battlefield as Fearswoop and Drench carried Corkscrew away. The crowd cheered.

Megatron sighed as the screen cut away. He rose from his bench and walked to the other side of the room. A punching beam hung from the ceiling. Megatron swung, delivering blow after blow. Memories flashed of happier times. Before SCRASH. Before Zeta.

Another rage-filled swing knocked the beam off the metal rope holding it up, sending it flying into the wall.

“Angry, much?”

Megatron turned to see a purple and yellow bot standing in the doorway. A purple crest sat atop his yellow helm. He crossed his arms, a grin on his face, as he leaned on the doorframe.

“Impactor.” Megatron stiffened. “What brings you here?”

“Ya don’t have ta act all tough ‘round me, Megs,” Impactor said.

Megatron froze at the sound of the shortened name. Impactor’s optics widened in realization.

“I’m… sorry, Megatron,” he said apologetically. “I didn’t think.”

Megatron sighed. “It’s… it’s fine, Impactor. I just…”

Impactor walked over, placing a hand on Megatron’s shoulder. “I know, pal. I miss ‘im, too.”

After a moment, Megatron rose. “I believe I have a match to prepare for.”

Impactor smiled. “There he is.”

Megatron smiled, then walked out to get ready.

“I don’t know about this, ‘Streaker.”

Sunstreaker chuckled. “Please, Sideswipe, I’ll be fine.”

Sideswipe sighed, rubbing his temple with his fingers. “Look, I’m fine with you watching my matches, but for you to be in there… not to mention who you’re up against. I mean, I’m not good enough to face him, and I’ve been at this for a while now.”

Sunstreaker scoffed. “Please. If you can do it, I can do it better. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Sideswipe sighed. “Just… be safe, bro.”

Sunstreaker rolled his optics and headed out, leaving his brother standing in the waiting room.

Orion Pax rolled up to the Tarn arena and assumed his robot mode. A silver and orange robot noticed him and grinned.

“Well, well, look who finally showed up!” he said mockingly.

Orion rolled his optics. “Good to see you too, Barrelroller.”

A pink female Cybertronian gave Barrelroller a punch in the shoulder. “Lay off him, Roller.” She turned to Orion. “It’s good to see you, Pax.”

Orion smiled fondly. “Hello, Elita.”

He glanced around. “Is Meister coming? Or Damus?”

“Nah,” a blue and orange bot replied. “Meister had some Elite Guard thing to take care of. Damus… he’s recovering still. From, y’know…” He trailed off.

"He'll be fine, Dion," Orion assured.

“Hey, we going in or not?” Barrelroller asked. “We’re gonna miss the match!”

“What did I miss?”

“Quake had a match already,” Elita-1 replied. “Megatron’s about to have one.”

“Megatron?” Orion combed his memory banks. “Isn’t he the main spokesperson of the Ascenticons?”

“That’s the one,” Dion confirmed. “Now hurry or we’ll miss it!”

The four ran into the arena, ready for the next match.

“And for our next match, we have one that will put you on the edge of your seats!” Circuit announced, his smooth-talking voice easily immersing the crowd. “In the red corner, we have a newcomer. Speeding in straight from Vos’ raceways, it’s Sunstreaker!”

The golden racer strode onto the battlefield, a confident smile on his face. He waved to the cheering crowd, basking in the glory of the arena.

“And in the blue corner, it’s the Terror of Tarn who’s taking the world by storm. You know him, you love him – it’s the one and only Megatron!”

Megatron waved to the crowd as he stepped onto the field, the sun glinting off of his black helm. He smiled confidently.

“Now, folks, we all know the rules – you can go all out, but as per Clench’s specifications, you cannot kill your opponent,” Circuit continued. “Sparks, brain modules, and transformation cogs are to be left intact. And please try not to decapitate the other fighter. That’s only fixable sometimes, and Clench prefers his gladiators to stay alive. Try to do anything, and our personal security team will stop you.”

At the sidelines, Fearswoop, Rage, and Axer watched on, arms crossed.

“Ugh, why do we have to stop them from killing each other?” Rage grumbled. “Primus, I miss those days.”

“It’s been outlawed, Rage,” Fearswoop replied. “Unless you wanna be out of a job, we gotta play by the rules.”

“Not to mention Clench won’t give us our Shanix,” Axer added, a glint in his optic. “Can’t have that.”

“Now, who’s ready to RRRRRUMBLE!” Circuit cried. The cheers from the audience were answer enough.

“Then let the match… begin!”

Megatron grinned, his arm shifting into a mace. He began swinging around and pacing around the arena’s perimeter.

Sunstreaker, meanwhile, immediately charged at Megatron. A rookie mistake. Megatron swiftly dodged the golden racer’s swing and delivered a mace strike to his side, sending Sunstreaker flying across the ring.

Sunstreaker growled as he rose. “Don’t you dare ruin my finish.” 

He assumed his vehicular mode and sped towards Megatron. The Tarnian gladiator grinned, slamming his mace into the ground just before Sunstreaker reached him. The shockwave sent Sunstreaker flying into the air, up over Megatron’s head. Before he landed, he quickly shifted back into his robot mode and began transforming his arms. Megatron realized too late what was going on.

Piledrivers.

Sunstreaker’s piledrivers slammed into Megatron, sending him flying back. The silver gladiator coughed up a bit of Energon and rose.

“I’m impressed, racer,” he commented. “For someone so new to the sport, that was a solid maneuver.”

Sunstreaker grinned. “Oh, please. This isn’t too hard.”

The two rushed at each other once more.

Zeta Prime sighed as he watched the match. Beside him stood a blue and orange bot, with spikes on his chestplate, as well as a red, burly bot with a windshield on his chest. Zeta turned to the blue one.

“And why did you want me to watch this again, Sentinel?” he asked the blue and orange one.

Sentinel, head of the Prime Guard, blinked. “It’s gladiatorial combat, sir. I just thought that you should know that it’s going on. Maybe mobilize a response unit?”

Zeta sighed. “Sentinel, the combat is not illegal. It’s the killing that is. And as you saw, they stopped that other gladiator before he went too far.”

“Shouldn’t we at least have security there?” Sentinel suggested. “In case something does happen? Quake almost didn’t stop. He wanted to kill the other one."

“I knew Quake in the war,” the red bot noted. “Not the kind to take a “no killin’” rule happily. He could do somethin’… drastic.”

Zeta sighed. “It does not concern me. What does is the rumors.”

“Rumors?”

“There’s been word that the Ascenticons are coming back,” Zeta explained. “I don’t want those… lunatics to tear our way of life apart. If you hear anything about them, inform me.”

With that, Zeta departed. Sentinel sighed and turned off the screen.

“We’re not gonna do that, are we?” the red bot asked.

“Of course not, Ironhide,” Sentinel replied. “While I do not agree with everything the Ascenticons stand for, they do not deserve to be oppressed. They are a political faction as much as the Autobots.”

Ironhide sighed, shaking his head. “I remember a time when bein' an Autobot meant more than supportin’ some politicians. Upsettin’ how the term is bein’ used now.  It’s not what Guardian woulda wanted.”

“Remind me – why did the Matrix go to Zeta again?”

The pair turned around to see a blue and yellow bot leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed.

“Nightbeat!” Ironhide said, startled. “How did you–?”

“When you’ve known him long enough, you learn to stop asking,” Sentinel interrupted. He looked back up at the detective. “What is this about, Nightbeat?”

“Just some things I’ve gotten ahold of,” he replied. “For today’s interest, it’s autopsy reports filed by Cogwheel.”

Ironhide sighed. “Here we go…”

“Specifically, regarding Guardian Prime’s death.”

Ironhide blinked. “‘Scuse me?”

Sentinel stepped forward. “What is it?”

“Cogwheel’s medical notes are logged in the database,” Nightbeat explained. “There’s a lot of… inconsistencies. Not with the notes themselves, exactly – more of Guardian’s condition.”

Sentinel frowned. “What are you saying, Nightbeat?”

Nightbeat sighed and stood up straight, uncrossing his arms. 

“What I’m saying, Sentinel, is that I think Guardian Prime didn’t die  on accident. I’m saying that he was murdered, and someone high in the chain attempted to cover it up.”

Sunstreaker stumbled back, clutching his injured arm. One of his piledrivers was crushed, his arm nearly torn off. He coughed up Energon and wiped his mouth with his good arm. Megatron approached him, now only armed with his bare hands. His mace lay on the ground nearby, torn away by Sunstreaker.

The racer tried to hit him with the piledriver again, but Megatron swiftly dodged. He slammed his fists into the back of Sunstreaker’s head, knocking him onto the ground. He then placed a foot on top of him, forcing him to stay down.

“Aaaaand MATCH!” Circuit shouted. “There you have it, folks. Another victory on Megatron’s scoreboard! We’ll have a break here, but after this, we’ve got a killer match waiting for you!”

As Megatron walked off the field, Clench watched as Fearswoop and Axer carried Sunstreaker away. He smiled.

:“Clench!”:

Clench sighed, answering the hail.

“Yes, Windrazor?”

:“We’ve got trouble.”:

Clench blinked. “What kind of trouble?”

:“Quake. He’s storming through the arena’s hallways, at speed. Real mad. He’s already taken down Eagle Eye.”:

Clench growled. “Stop him!”

:“Something else, boss. It seems he’s heading for the medbay.”:

Clench froze. So that’s what he was doing.

“Frag.”

Clench activated his comlink.

“Rage, Calcar, Axer, clear the arena! Fearswoop, go help Windrazor! I’m calling in security! This is a Code Quake!”

“We have a whole code for this guy?!” Rage cried from beside him.

“Yes!” Clench growled. “Now go!”

“Erm… what exactly is a Code Quake?”

Clench groaned. “It means that Quake snapped – he’s going to kill Corkscrew.”

Chapter Text

Orion Pax watched anxiously as a team of Tarn security agents rolled into the arena.

“Ugh, of course this had to happen,” Dion grumbled.

“Can you not?” Orion snapped. “Elita and Roller are going to have to deal with this now, and all we can do is sit here and do nothing!”

Dion blinked. “Jeez, sorry, Orion.”

Orion sighed. “I’m sorry, Dion. I’m just…”

“On edge?” Dion finished. “Yeah, I think we all are.” He grinned. “‘Course, you are probably more worried than anyone here.”

“Why is – wait.”

“It’s because of Elita, isn’t it?”

Orion remained silent, a small tinge of blue on his face.

Dion chuckled. “I'm kidding, Orion. I'm your best friend – I gotta tease you somehow.” He gave Orion a friendly punch to the shoulder, prompting a chuckle from the archivist. “They'll be fine, Pax.”

Orion sighed. “I hope so, Dion. I hope so…”

A black and yellow tank led the rest of the security team into the arena. They stopped in front of Clench, assuming their robot modes. The leader was tall, about a head above Clench. A rapid-fire machine gun replaced his right hand. A mask completely concealed his face. His green optics shone through his visor, lighting it up completely.

“We got your call, Clench,” he said. “Can’t say I wasn’t expecting this. Again, why did you let Quake of all bots in?”

“You really think I was stupid ‘nough to refuse?” Clench growled. “You know him as well as I do, Cannonbolt. He woulda killed me without a second thought!”

“I suppose you’re right,” Cannonbolt muttered. He turned back to the team. “Alright – Skyfeather, Skytread, you’re with me. Safety, take Fasttrack, Stepper, Treadshot, Moonheart, and Shadow Striker. You’re going after Quake.”

Safety saluted her commander. “Yes, sir!” She led her team into the depths of the arena as Cannonbolt, Skyfeather, and Skytread assumed their alternate modes, with Skytread splitting into a red jet and a brown tank.

“I’m sorry, he was what?”

“Murdered,” Nightbeat repeated. “Well, that’s my current theory, anyways. I can give you a bit of proof, if you need it.”

Sentinel hesitated, but nodded. Nightbeat smiled and pulled out a datapad, handing it over.

“From what I gather, the stage the corrodia gravis was at doesn’t match up with how long he’d had it,” Nightbeat explained as Sentinel read the autopsy report. “Seems a bit suspicious to me.”

Ironhide sighed. “I hate to say it, Sentinel, but I kinda agree with ‘im. That does seem mighty suspicious.”

Sentinel sighed. “And you think you can figure this out?”

Nightbeat grinned. “It’s what I do best.”

Sentinel rubbed his temple. “Alright. Fine. Nightbeat, you will investigate this case. Ironhide, get him a team.”

Nightbeat nodded, following Ironhide out. Sentinel sighed.

“What has this planet come to…?”

“A shame, isn’t it?”

Sentinel froze. He knew that high-pitched voice anywhere. He whipped around to be met by a ‘bot with a Seeker-like body-type. He outdated the Seekers, but their designs may have been influenced by his huge ego. The swept wings, the cockpit chest, the red and white finish, the intakes on his back, the crest on his forehead…

“Senator Ulchtar,” Sentinel said, a bit of annoyance in his voice.

Ulchtar grinned. “Come, Sentinel. Let us talk.”

“So… what’s this one’s deal?” Fasttrack whispered to Shadow Striker, nodding towards Safety. “People keep talking about her like she’s a big deal, but she’s just another Prowl lookalike. And what kinda name is Safety?”

“I can hear you, you know,” Safety called back. Fasttrack froze as Stepper let out a laugh.

“She fought in the war,” Treadshot explained. “Bit of a hero. She was one of the ones who infiltrated the Terrorcon base in Protihex to take SCRASH down once and for all.”

“I heard she did it herself!” Stepper whispered.

“Again, I can hear you,” Safety called out again. “And that’s a myth. It was Streamline who delivered the finishing blow, Primus rest their spark. And Flyrox was the one who got us access to their old lab.”

“But you were the one to take Scorponok down,” Stepper noted.

“Yes. And?”

“Kinda a big deal.”

“Get over it,” Shadow Striker huffed. “She wasn’t alone. I was there, too, you know.”

“She’s right,” Safety agreed. “The only bot who could take him solo was otherwise engaged. Nobody else could take a Gigantion down by themselves.”

“You’re selling yourself short,” Treadshot noted. “She’s still one of the best military commanders out there.”

“Prowl’s jealous.”

Moonheart blinked. She glanced at Safety in surprise. “Wait, what?”

“Prowl’s jealous,” the officer repeated, a smile on her face. “I’m not one to flaunt my rank, but seeing the look on Prowl’s face when I get called that is worth it.”

Moonheart could have sworn that she heard Shadow Striker snicker, but when she glanced back, the veteran’s face was still blank. She glared at Moonheart almost threateningly before shoving ahead of the others.

“I’ve heard that she’s being considered to be the next Prime!” 

Treadshot muttered. “So… Safety Prime?”

“Now, don’t get ahead of yourself, Treadshot,” Safety denied. “I’m not a Prime.”

“Welp. Quake’s been here,” Shadow Striker noted from ahead.

The group rushed forward to find four Seekers lying on the ground, injured. One of them was Fearswoop.

“Moonheart.”

The helicopter nodded, rushing forward. To all who would see security normally, Moonheart was just another law enforcer, like other helicopter bots. However, unknown to most, she was also a medic. This was kept on tight wraps – the Functionists weren’t very forgiving to those who went against their caste. Moonheart knew another helicopter who went against his caste after the war ended. The empurata had left its mark on him – physically and mentally.

She opened her medpack and began work. Suddenly, a red and white Seeker sat up, his green optics blinking on.

“What the–” he cried, leaping back. He stumbled and fell over again. Safety walked over and knelt next to him.

“Are you alright?” she asked. 

The Seeker grimaced. “Does it look like I’m alright? If you’re after Quake, medbay is down the corridor to the right, at the very end. Best hurry – he also raided the armory, took a shoulder cannon.”

“Thank you…”

“Windrazor.”

“Thank you, Windrazor.” 

With that, Safety motioned for the rest of the team to follow her. Moonheart stayed behind with the Seekers.

The team headed down the hallway indicated by Windrazor, stopping at the last door.

“Remember, team,” Safety whispered. “Be ready for anything.”

The officer kicked the door down, storming in.

“Tarn Security Operations! You’re under arrest!”

Quake froze, standing over Corkscrew. Drench lay against the wall, injured but alive. The gladiator turned around and frowned.

“Security?” he muttered. A grin spread across his face. “This’ll be fun.”

Quake charged forward. Safety raised her blaster.

“Let ‘im have it!”

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t blab about Nightbeat’s little mission,” Ulchtar assured as he sat down. “I’m not here about anything of that sort.”

“Then what is this about?” Sentinel asked. “I couldn’t help but notice that your hired helpers aren’t here.”

“You mean Onslaught’s group?” Ulchtar chuckled. “They’re not far. Thundercracker and Sunstorm are with them, too. Loyal bots. Help keep Onslaught in line.”

“Anyone else I should know about?”

“No. Why?”

“Rumors. Screech reported what looked like Skywarp over there.”

Ulchtar blinked. “And… you think I’m, what? Harboring him?”

“Perhaps.”

The senator sighed. “Sentinel, I assure you, I would not harbor someone like Skywarp. I’ll find out about the mess with him later. This is more about a separate problem – one regarding my city.” 

“What’s going on?”

“Ever since Black Shadow’s empire collapsed in the war – give Hyperdrive my thanks for that, I never get to see him – smaller gangs have been scrambling to fill the void left behind. One recently has put my city on lockdown. I barely managed to escape myself, and wouldn’t have if I didn’t have Onslaught’s team. Poor... Takeoff, I think? – he didn’t make it out.”

“They attacked you?” Sentinel asked, surprised.

“Yes,” Ulchtar confirmed. “They want Vos for themselves. To act as the hub of their new empire.”

“Who is it?”

Ulchtar frowned. “The self-styled “king of the road” – Motormaster and his Stunticons.”

Shadow Striker stepped out of the way as Stepper flew across the room. She pulled out her EM pistol and fired. However, it didn’t have nearly as much of effect on Quake as she’d hoped, slowing him down for a brief nanoklik before he continued towards her. A swing of his arm sent Shadow Striker flying across the room, slamming into the wall.

“Ugh,” she groaned as she rose. “We need heavy-duty stuff.”

Safety glanced over at Treadshot. “Treadshot, go!”

Treadshot nodded, leaping out from behind his cover and assuming his cannon mode. He fired at Quake, the blasts actually seeming to faze the gladiator. However, Quake managed to push forward, grabbing Treadshot by the barrel, crushing it. He swung around, slamming the bot into the approaching Fasttrack.

“Slag!” Safety swore. She lowered her head as Shadow Striker and Stepper crawled over.

“What are we supposed to do?!” Stepper whispered.

Safety considered for a moment, then smiled.

“I got an idea,” she muttered. “Shadow Striker, Stepper, draw his attention. I’m going in with a mode lock.”

The two car-bots nodded and split up, Shadow Striker going left and Stepper going right. They fired on Quake, dividing his attention as Safety pulled out a mode lock. She assumed her security cruiser mode and sped ahead, shifting back to robot mode and propelling herself into the air. She spread her arms as she hurtled downward towards Quake.

Quake quickly took notice of the approaching Safety. He stuck his arm out and grabbed Safety by the neck just moments before the head of Tarn security reached him. He immediately slammed Safety into the ground, causing her to lose the mode lock. Quake then lifted her up to his shoulder. The cannon on his back folded over and fired, blowing a hole straight through Safety’s chest.

Stepper watched in horror as Quake dropped Safety to the ground. Shadow Striker, however, pulled out her machete and lunged at the gladiator. In one clean strike, she sliced the cannon’s barrel off, rendering it useless.

Quake snarled, grabbing Shadow Striker and tearing her arm off. The purple bot grunted in pain, but responded by giving Quake a roundhouse kick to the head. The gladiator grabbed her leg and flipped her over his head, slamming her into the ground.

Fasttrack quickly pulled out his blaster, hitting Quake in the back of the head. The gladiator grimaced, turning to the smaller bot, fury in his optics. Fasttrack froze, but then transformed to his buggy mode and drove out of the medbay. Quake assumed his tank mode and went after him, Corkscrew forgotten. 

Stepper peeked out from his hiding place and spotted the mode lock. He rushed over, grabbed it, and drove after the pair.

“They allowed who into the ring?” a purple senator asked as he walked alongside his mentor and a smaller, orange and silver bot. The orange bot had a glowing blue circle in the center of his chest.

“Quake,” the psychiatrist confirmed. “A berserker from the war, fought against SCRASH. He spent the war so full of Energon that he basically became addicted to, for lack of a better term, violence, and the rush it brings him.”

“Thank you, Ring.”

“It’s Rung.”

“Why would anyone let someone like that into the pits?” the senator continued. “It doesn’t make sense! What possible reason–”

“Some intentions are unknown, Shockwave,” his mentor, a tall white, green, and yellow senator, replied. “However, I suspect Clench was motivated by greed more than anything.”

“This isn’t good,” Shockwave muttered. “My projections were right,  Jhiaxus – which was a given – but I wish they weren’t. Cybertron is on a rapid path towards civil war, one far worse than the one Scorponok started. Need I list how many of our fellow senators are corrupt in their endeavors and goals? Zarak, Ratbat, Proteus, Ulchtar maybe – dozens more.”

“Maybe?”

“His deals with Onslaught could be considered shifty, but, again, he could just be paranoid,” Shockwave stated. “It makes sense – ever since Sherma’s death, senatorial security has greatly increased.”

“For good reason,” Jhiaxus noted. “Though the target of the Autobots’ aggression remains… unfortunate. The Ascenticons don’t deserve this.”

“Especially since you’re one of them?”

The flier blinked, clearly caught off guard.

“Don’t try to hide it from me – I won’t tell Zeta,” Shockwave assured. “Besides, I agree with some of their ideals myself.”

“I just want to know why they put the blame on us,” Jhiaxus muttered. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“From an average point of view,” Rung pointed out. “Skyquake takes over Nigex, kills its senator, and renames it Slaughter City. How is that connected to the Ascenticons? However, the Autobots can forge a connection. Claim that Skyquake is one of them, and thus create animosity towards their rival party. And when the Prime says it, most tend to believe them.”

The two senators stared at the psychiatrist for a moment.

“What? I’ve had sessions with politicians before, I know how they think!”

Jhiaxus sighed. “I remember when the Autobots meant… more. More than some political faction.”

“I understand,” Shockwave agreed. “But Zeta changed everything after Guardian died. And we have to live with that.”

“I’m well and alive, thank you very much.”

Shockwave sighed, turning to see a red and blue engineer standing behind them.

“You know very well I’m talking about Guardian Prime,” the senator said with a sigh. “What do you want, Guardian?”

“Shockwave,” the engineer said cryptically. “More specifically, Prime wants the both of us and our scientific skills.”

Shockwave glanced at Jhiaxus. “Don’t worry – I’ll be back.”

Jhiaxus sighed. “I’d best be going. I have that other business to attend to.”

Shockwave nodded, following Guardian away. Jhiaxus sighed and walked the other direction, towards the exit.

:“Cannonbolt!":

“Yes, Fasttrack?” the commander responded.

:“Quake’s right behind me! We’re headed your way!”:

“Understood.” Cannonbolt cut the connection. “Skyfeather, Skytread, be ready!”

Before long, Fasttrack sped out of the corridor, quickly turning to face the doorway. A rumbling sound heralded Quake’s arrival. The second the gladiator emerged, Cannonbolt shouted “Fire!”

The four opened fire at the same time, blasts hitting him from five different directions. Quake was flipped over, but quickly assumed his robot mode and stormed towards the group.

That’s when Stepper emerged from the shadows and transformed to robot mode. He propelled himself into the air and landed on Quake’s back, quickly slamming the mode lock on. Quake cried out as the device took effect, forcing him to change to his alternate mode. Cannonbolt, Fasttrack, Skyfeather, and Skytread all returned to their robot modes, walking over to Quake. Cannonbolt activated his comlink.

“Overload, this is Cannonbolt. We got ‘im. Get over here so we can transport him to the holding cells.”

:“Yes, sir. On my way.”:

“Thank ya’ll,” Clench said, relief in his voice. “I don’t know how I’ll ever–”

“Don’t think you’re out of this yet, Clench,” Cannonbolt growled. “You let a known sociopath into your little fighting club. You’re going to answer for this, too.”

Clench growled as Cannonbolt stormed over to the entrance. He sighed. Of course this is how his day would end.

“Elita-1, Barrelroller,” Cannonbolt said, walking over to the pair. “Thank you for your assistance in evacuating the arena.”

Roller shrugged. “No prob. Kinda wish I got to help more, though. Tussling with Quake woulda given me a great story to tell to Orion and Dion.”

“It was our pleasure,” Elita-1 said, a smile on her face. “Now, I need to check on my Or – friends.”

Roller chuckled. “You are somehow worse than Pax is.”

“Barrelroller, I swear to Primus–”

The larger bot kept laughing. Elita rolled her optics.

“Let’s just go,” she muttered, assuming her car mode and driving off. Roller followed close behind.

As they left, Cannonbolt watched on.

:“Sir.”:

“Yes, Moonheart?”

:“It’s Safety, sir. She’s… she’s gone.”:

Chapter Text

“And why are we in Vos of all places again?” Flash grumbled.

“Because Motormaster’s here,” Hyperdrive reiterated. Flash was young, and a new addition to the Elite Guard. His lack of patience was something he would get out of him eventually. “Not to mention he may have one of Onslaught’s team.”

“And we care because…?”

“Because, Rotorstorm, Onslaught isn’t a criminal, and Blast Off is by far the moral compass of his crew,” the leader of the Turbomaster unit pointed out.

“I’m with Hyperdrive on this one,” his second-in-command, Thunderclash, said. “Without Blast Off, Vortex or Brawl would have absolutely broken the law by now, and Swindle left them to do his own thing kilocycles ago even with Blast Off around. The only things stopping them right now are Onslaught and Ulchtar’s Seeker guards, and I know those Seekers won’t be able to keep them occupied for long.”

“Seems that the Stunticons managed to shut down our external comm channels, both standard and encrypted,” Hurricane reported. “But they haven’t figured out our encrypted internal comm channel. I’ve established contact with Fireball, head of Vos’ Sec-Ops team. We’re working out a meeting spot.”

“How’d Motormaster figure out that tech?” Boss wondered. “He’s strong, but definitely not bright.”

“Probably got some techhead to work for him,” Rotorstorm said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Which, to be fair, it should've been. “I mean, come on, Boss. You’re supposed to be the smart one!”

“Quiet!” Scorch hissed. He turned to his commander. “Hyperdrive, what do we do?”

“Rotorstorm, recon,” the Turbomaster leader ordered. “Get us a Sky-Spy view.”

The blue and pink flier sighed. “Oh, fine.” He assumed his helicopter mode and flew off.

“And now… we wait,” Hyperdrive muttered. 

Flash groaned somewhere behind him.

“What is it you want from me, Zeta?”

“Zeta Prime,” the planetary leader corrected. “And really, Senator, you should treat your superiors with more respect.”

“The government structured by Nova still stands,” Shockwave pointed out. “We are a democracy, not a dictatorship, Prime. We have the Senate for a reason.”

Zeta glowered at Shockwave for a moment, but quickly recomposed himself. It did not go unnoticed.

“Shockwave, Guardian, I have a project for you,” he said, clicking a button on the underside of his desk. Part of the wall opened up, revealing a hidden elevator. “Come.”

Shockwave hesitated, but chose to follow Zeta and Guardian in. The elevator closed and began its descent.

“Now, I’m sure you know all about the Guardian Sentinels, as they were called?”

“Yes,” Shockwave recalled. “The WMDs created by Spreem, the best engineer of his time, at the behest of Nova. There were twenty-six of them created before Spreem disappeared with Lamda Supreme. Several were wiped out at their first deployment during the Revolution. More disappeared into the cosmos, and the last known active one was… taken by SCRASH and had to be offlined.”

Zeta chuckled. “Yes. The last known one… until now.”

The doors opened, and Shockwave gawked at the sight before him.

There, hidden deep below Iacon, was Alpha Supreme, first of the Guardian Sentinels.

“Here’s your layout thing,” Rotorstorm muttered as he landed, swiftly handing a data disk to Hurricane. “Got a good look at his outer guards, too. They are a wreck.”

“We’ll deal with them later,” Hurricane replied as he pulled up a holographic projection of the map. “Alright, here we go.”

Hyperdrive stepped back. “You’re the strategist, Boss.”

Boss stepped forward and examined the layout. “Alright, looks like the south and east entrances are completely sealed. Best way in would be a wall scaling maneuver. Rotorstorm, you’ll need to take out any guards–”

“Yes!”

“–quietly.”

“Oh, fine.”

“Flash, you’re the fastest land vehicle, so if we come across any Stunticons, you’re our best bet at keeping them at bay.”

“Oh, joy.”

“Now, Hyperdrive, if you please?”

Hyperdrive stepped forward, taking out a small pad.

“Remember, these are the Stunticons. They’re wild and deadly, with zero political convictions. I’m giving you a rundown of major members.”

He pressed a button, prompting an image of a gray and black semi bot to be projected above the pad.

“Primary target is the gang’s leader: Motormaster. Cold and vicious, Motormaster is one of the most narcissistic, despicable, selfish, and dangerous pieces of scrap on Cybertron. He fancies himself as the “king of the road” and will mercilessly kill anyone in his way. Then there are his main lackeys – his guard, if you will.”

The image changed to show a yellow and red bot, with a drag racer alternate mode.

“Dragstrip, a native of Velocitron, is obsessed with speed and victory just like the rest of his society. However, for this bot, it’s to an unhealthy degree, and he’s willing to do anything to get it. Ever since being cut off from his home planet at the end of the Golden Age, he’s been Motormaster’s top terrorizer right after Heatseeker, attacking innocents for giggles.”

The image changed again, this time to a gray and red bruiser with missile pods on his shoulders.

“Speaking of which, this one is extremely dangerous. Heatseeker, the Stunticons’ main demolitionist. He’s the basic bruiser type, just wanting to smash something or blow someone up. Do not underestimate him, however. He’s ex-Primal Vanguard, and true to his name, he’s equipped with heat-seeking missiles, so he needs to be taken out as soon as possible.”

The image changed, this time showing off black and gold bot with shoulder pylons, wheels mounted on their sides.

“This one is Blackjack. He’s Motormaster’s right hand, and probably the smartest of the bunch. After the war, he managed to run a fairly good black market operation for a while before it got shut down by Delta Magnus. Some of his crew escaped, and apparently joined up with Motormaster.”

He clicked one last time, showing a black and red bot with little spikes jutting off the sides of his head.

“And lastly, Wildrider. He’s been causing trouble long before he joined Motormaster’s gang. A certified maniac, he’s got a constant case of road rage, and will lash out at anyone and anything if they look at him funny. Best be cautious around him.”

As the image of Wildrider flickered out, Hyperdrive lowered the pad. “There are others, but they’re not nearly as important. These are the ringleaders or most dangerous. Take them in at all costs. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!”

Hyperdrive smiled. “Alright then. Let’s roll out!”

“This… this is incredible!” Shockwave exclaimed. “How on Cybertron did you find this?”

“Thank Scorponok, actually. His old dig site with the ultra-Energon had this buried nearby.”

“A guardian, perhaps?” Guardian suggested. “Excuse the pun.”

“We tried to repair it, but its systems are far too dated,” Zeta Prime informed. “So I want you two to recreate it.”

Shockwave paused. “Excuse me?”

“I want a new generation of Guardian Sentinels,” Zeta clarified. “And you two will be the ones to bring them into existence. What do you say?”

“I’m in,” Guardian said without hesitation. “Oh, I’ve got so many ideas to try out!”

Shockwave, however, was more reluctant.

“Shockwave?”

The senator blinked, and after a moment, he nodded.

“Alright. Let’s do it.”

Zeta smiled. “Excellent. I can’t wait to see what you two come up with. Good luck!”

Zeta went back into the elevator and rode it up. Shockwave sighed.

“Hurry it up, Shockwave. We have a job to do!”

Shockwave turned and walked over to Guardian. His side duty would have to wait.

“I don’t get why you think we need to patrol again, Breakdown,” Road Hugger muttered as he and his fellow Stunticon patrolled the perimeter of the city. “There’s nobody coming. Vos is ours.”

“It’s Motormaster’s,” Breakdown corrected. “He could be listening to us right. Now.”

“Geez, paranoid much?” Road Hugger said with a roll of his optics. “Ugh, I should be with Blackjack and the others, huntin’ down those security bots.”

“But patrolling is just as important!” the blue and white Stunticon argued. “You never know when someone will show up to stop us! Ulchtar escaped! He’s going to get backup!”

“From who, Zeta?” Road Hugger laughed. “Please. Prime couldn’t care less about some backwater city. Nobody’s gonna come.”

“What about Magnus?”

“What about hi–” 

Road Hugger paused. “Oh. The Elite Guard. Yeah.”

“Exactly my point! What if the Guard comes?”

“Guess you’re about to find out.”

Road Hugger whipped around just before being hit with a stun blast courtesy of Rotorstorm. Breakdown panicked, assuming his vehicle mode and speeding off, but a quick toss of a mode lock took him down.

“This is Rotorstorm – you are clear to enter.”

It wasn’t long before the other Turbomasters arrived. Rotorstorm had tied Road Hugger up and set the mode-locked Breakdown beside him.

“Two Stunticons, bagged and tagged,” he said with a grin.

“Good work, Rotorstorm,” Hyperdrive said. “Thunderclash, Flash, Scorch, take Route A. Hurricane, Boss, and I will take Route B. Rotorstorm will be our eye in the sky. Thunderclash, can you take Road Hugger?”

“No problem.”

“Then load Breakdown up,” the commander ordered, assuming his truck form. Scorch and Hurricane quickly loaded Breakdown in. Before splitting up, Scorch stopped by Hyperdrive’s cab.

“Be careful, Hyperdrive,” the yellow truck said. “I don’t want to lose another friend.”

“Nor do I,” Hyperdrive replied. “We already lost Rodney and Streamline in the war. I assure you, neither of us will perish today. They’re thugs – what’s the worst that can happen?”

“They took over a city.”

“Fair point. Alright, team, divide and conquer!”

:“Yes, sir. She’s gone. Fixit confirmed it.”:

“I see.” Sentinel sat back. “I’ll… inform Zeta. As of now, you are in charge of Tarn’s security until further notice. Understood, Cannonbolt?”

His reply did not come immediately.

:“Yes, sir.”:

Once Cannonbolt had hung up, Sentinel groaned into his hands.

“This is a disaster,” he muttered. After a moment, he rose and headed towards the Prime chamber. Upon reaching it, he knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

Sentinel watched as the doors opened, and there, facing the window, stood Zeta Prime.

“What is it you need, Sentinel?” the Prime asked. “Surely you did not come merely to have a friendly chat? Because that would be a waste of my time. I need to dispatch the next party soon.”

“Of course not, Prime,” Sentinel muttered. “I… just received word from Tarn.”

“Has that gladiator been apprehended?”

“Yes, sir, but–”

“Excellent,” Zeta interrupted. “All is as it should be.”

“Sir, there’s something else.”

Zeta paused, turning to face the head of the Prime Guard. “Oh?”

“It’s Safety, sir. The one you’ve selected as the next Prime?”

“Eh, one of a few. Why?”

“She’s… dead. Quake killed her.”

Zeta blinked. “I see.”

He turned away. “Well, I suppose it shows that she wasn’t really worthy to bear the Matrix.”

“What?”

“Consider this a win on your end, Sentinel,” Prime said, turning around and edging closer to the smaller bot. “After all, that’s one less in the way of you becoming Prime, isn’t it?”

“I… what?”

“Those candidates I mentioned?” Zeta said, smiling almost deviously. “You’re one of them.”

“Anything, Rotorstorm?”

:“Nothing yet, ‘Clash,”: the flier replied. :“Gonna go check on Route B. You guys don’t have too much fun!”:

“No promises!” Flash joked.

“So this Fireball guy,” he said, pulling over to Scorch. “He’s one of the commanders from the war, right? The one who rescued Cannonbolt?”

“Yes,” Scorch confirmed. “Boss, Hyperdrive, Thunderclash, and I saw them when they returned. Poor Cannonbolt… chap was absolutely broken by whatever Scorponok put him through. We’re lucky that psychiatrist – Rong, I think it was? – was able to help him recover.”

“Think he’ll actually be able to help against Motormaster?”

“What? You think this’ll be hard?” Thunderclash teased.

“Well…”

“Look, Flash,” the semi said solemnly. “This is Motormaster, head of the Stunticons. Of course he’s going to make it hard. But be glad it’s not the Predators we’re going against.”

Flash shuddered. He’d heard the stories from the recently rechristened Slaughter City. The arenas, the killing – everything. To go there was a death sentence unless you were one of them. Delta Magnus was personally working on a team to infiltrate the city and take Skyquake down, but few were willing to give their lives for the mission.

:“Bogies up ahead!”: 

Rotorstorm’s voice cleared Flash’s thoughts as he and the others quickly assumed their robot modes, with Thunderclash parking his trailer off to the side. Rotorstorm flew over, weaponsfire flying after him. Just then, two Stunticons – one of them was Dragstrip – ran around the corner and froze.

“Oh, slag!” a navy and red bot cried, stumbling back. “There’s more of them!”

Dragstrip frowned and aimed his dual pistols. “Just shoot them, Wildbreak!”

The two Stunticons opened fire, and the Turbomasters were quick to return it.

“I’m… what?”

Zeta sighed. “Really, Sentinel, you’re starting to discourage me.  You are one of the top candidates to be my successor. The next Prime.”

Sentinel stepped back, his mind racing.

“Oh, yes. I suppose you must process. I’ll leave you to it.”

As Zeta left, he stopped and turned around.

“Safety is gone, Sentinel. Consider this an opportunity.”

With that, Zeta Prime departed, leaving Sentinel alone to process this revelation.

“This is the place,” Hurricane said. “This is where Fireball said to meet.”

“So… where is he?”

The trio stood, waiting on Fireball’s group to show.

“Anything?”

“Nope. Maybe the Stunticons got to them?”

It was then that Hurricane noticed something. “Guys, over there,” he said, pointing to an alleyway. The other two followed his gaze.

A pair of red optics stared back. The bot motioned for them to follow him. Hurricane started to go, but Boss stopped him.

“Hurricane, wait!”

The Turbomaster stopped. “What, Boss? It’s not a Stunticon – otherwise they’d have already attacked.”

“Still, be cautious,” Boss warned. “You never know–”

“Are you comin’ or not?” The bot hissed.

Boss blinked. “Wait a klik…”

“Hurry! We’ve got news that Motormaster’s on the move!”

The trio’s eyes widened, and, after a moment of hesitation, they followed the voice into the alley. Within stood a yellow and gray bot, with treads on his arms and legs and a tank barrel sticking up from his back.

“Be glad Railway got ahold of us when he did,” the bot said. “Motormaster’s on the streets, and that means we get off . Oh, and good ta see ya again, Boss.”

Boss lit up upon recognizing the bot. “Hardspark! Good to see you, too, old pal!”

“Where’s this “Railway” you mentioned?” Hurricane asked. “Is he safe?”

“Unfortunately, we lost contact just moments after he sent the panicked message,” Hardspark replied, an edge of sadness in his voice. “So we can assume Motormaster got ahold of him. Now, let’s get you back to base before the Stunticons find you.”

“Wait!” Hyperdrive whipped around. “The others!”

“They’re dead, or they will be,” Hardspark growled. “We need to get inside before Motormaster finds the rest of us!”

“He’s right, Hyperdrive,” Boss interjected. “If the Stunticons find the security base…”

Hyperdrive hesitated.

“Fine,” he muttered, turning away from the street. 

Hardspark turned and led them to a way, knocking on it with a timed pattern. A small slot slid open, then closed. Nanokliks later, the door slid open, and the group ran inside.

“Thank Primus you made it.”

Hyperdrive smiled as he looked at the bots who stood before him.

“Name’s Fireball,” the leader, an orange and black missile truck, said. “Behind me are Hydradread, Hardhead, Powerglide, and Placeholder. And, along with you, we’re this city’s last hope of survival.”

Wildbreak cried out as he was hit with a stun blast, knocking him out. Flash groaned and sat down.

“Finally,” he muttered. “It’s over.”

Nearby, Thunderclash and Scorch stood over the mode-locked Dragstrip. Thunderclash sighed. “Not quite yet, Flash. We still gotta find Motormaster.”

He heard the clicking of a gun. Flash’s expression went to one of abject fear. 

“Then turn around.”

Thunderclash turned slowly to see none other than Motormaster himself, holding Scorch at gunpoint.

“Heya, ‘Clash. Long time no see. Now, no sudden movements, or I blow your pal’s brains out. We clear?”

Thunderclash growled, but dropped his weapon. Flash reluctantly followed suit.

“Good. Now, ya’ll are comin’ with me.”

Chapter Text

Overload drove through the streets of Tarn, escorted by a security team that included both those who were at the arena and a couple new guards.

“Ugh, why’d we have to come in?” Voulex groaned. “I was having fun destroying Lowsteel at Fullstasis!”

“Because Treadshot and Shadow Striker are unfit for duty right now,” Cannonbolt replied. “And because I said so.”

“I’m with her,” Ruckus muttered. “This is boring as Pit. Why couldn’t we help with Quake?”

“Will you stop complaining, Ruckus?” Stepper snapped. “It’s getting very annoying, but then again, you always are.”

“You wanna say that again, Stepper?”

“Enough!” Cannonbolt growled. “No arguing. We are transporting a prisoner.”

As the convoy continued, a blue flier swooped down and assumed his robot mode. His face was covered with a yellow visor and silver mouthplate. A rectangular door was on his chest, with a data disc visible inside.

“Target is in sight, Senator.”

:“Excellent, Soundwave. Begin.”:

“Affirmative. Frenzy, eject.”

Soundwave’s chest opened and out flew a blue data disc. It quickly transformed into a small robot – Frenzy. “Yo, Soundwave!” the Deployer said, grinning. “We here? ‘Cause I was gettin’ tired of bein’ stuck in your chest thing.”

“Affirmative. Initiate Operation: Shutdown.”

“You got it, pal.”

Frenzy glanced down, eyeing Quake. He opened his mouth, and from it came a high-pitched noise. It was heard by the security bots, who quickly covered their audio receptors in reaction to the painful sound. However, they were not the intended target.

The mode lock was designed by renowned engineer Brainstorm during the war. It was why he was declared alt-mode exempt. However, the biggest design flaw of the mode lock was that, at extremely specific sonic frequencies, it would shut itself down. Luckily, normal Cybertronians or their creations were incapable of producing such a frequency.

Frenzy was not a normal Cybertronian.

The mode lock deactivated, and Quake quickly found himself able to move again. He quickly assumed his robot mode and leapt off Overload. He landed in front of the carrier, swiftly grabbing his cab and tossing him to the side.

Fasttrack was the one to break the following silence. “Aw, scrap.”

“So are we clear on the plan?” Fireball asked.

“Not really,” Rotorstorm said as he entered the room. “Had to deal with that Heatseeker guy. Not fun, let me tell you.”

“Rotorstorm!” Hyperdrive said warmly. “It’s good to see you made it!”

“Yeah, but Thunderclash didn’t.”

Hyperdrive froze, the words registering to him. “Is… is he…?”

“Think he’s alive.” Rotorstorm frowned. “Motormaster took him alive. Knowing him, though, that can’t be anything good.”

Fireball sighed. He placed his hands on the table in the center of the room. “Alright, team. New plan…”

“Duck and cover!”

Voulex quickly tackled Skytread out of the way just moments before a chunk of building slammed into the ground where he’d stood.

“Be a bit gentler next time, eh, Voulex?” Skytread teased, aiming his EM pistol at Quake and firing. The blasts slightly fazed the gladiator, but in the end only seemed to make him madder. Skytread split into his jet and tank alternate modes and went in two separate directions as Quake charged, brandishing a piece of rubble. He swung, sending Voulex flying, then tossed the rubble towards Ruckus. It lodged itself in his midriff, sending the former Primal Vanguard member stumbling back and falling to the ground.

“Where’s Artfire?!” Cannonbolt shouted as he ducked behind a wall. “I can’t get contact with him! Moonheart, give me something to work with!”

“Whatever or whoever freed Quake seems to be able to block out our signals!” the medic stuttered. “We want to get to security, we need to get there on foot! Though I must say, whoever thought this out is smart…”

“No time to be amazed, Moonheart!” Stepper growled, firing back at the gladiator. Of course, this did little to nothing, and redirected Quake towards the trio.

Suddenly, a black fist slammed into Quake’s face, sending him stumbling. He looked up to a familiar silver bot with a black helm.

“Megatron?”

Another swing sent Quake stumbling again. Megatron assumed his mining mode and drove at the other gladiator at top speed.

Quake growled, quickly slamming his fists into the ground, sending out a shockwave that knocked Megatron off his treads. The Terror of Tarn quickly returned to his robot mode, lunging forward and slamming his fist into Quake’s face yet again, this time riding the gladiator down.

With Quake on the ground, Megatron clasped his hands and raised them above his head, then brought them down hard. Quake was knocked out cold, but thankfully not dead.

Megatron rose and glanced at the security team. “Best you put another mode lock on him. Maybe two for good measure.”

The gladiator turned and began to walk away.

“Megatron, wait!”

He stopped and turned. “Yes, Captain?”

Cannonbolt looked him over. “What are you doing here?”

Megatron smiled. “I saw destruction in my city. And don’t you go talking about how Shockwave is the senator – you know what I mean. I do not want any harm to come to Tarn. It is where the Ascenticons rose. Where Termagax rose. And it is where I will rise to take her place.”

With that, Megatron left, leaving Cannonbolt and the others to pick up the pieces.

“So, Motorbreath, what is it you wanted from me?”

A gray fist slammed into Thunderclash’s face. The Turbomaster grunted in pain and looked back up at his captor.

“It’s Motormaster,” the Stunticon ringleader growled. “You know that, Thunderclash.”

“Eh, Motorbreath’s more fun.”

“So what’s the story?” Flash whispered to Scorch.

“Dunno. All I know is they hate each other. Thunderclash never went into any–”

“Shut it,” Heatseeker growled, slamming the butt of his rifle into Scorch’s head. “Otherwise you’ll get to see why I’m called Heatseeker.”

“Guessin’ you came here fer this guy?”

The group looked behind them as Wildrider led Blast Off into the room at gunpoint. Motormaster smiled. “Thank you for retrieving him, Wildrider.” He looked back at Thunderclash and the other two Turbomasters. “Now, I’m willing to make a deal. I’ll give ya’ll Shuttle Gunner here–”

“Blast Off. Shuttle Gunner’s a different guy.”

“–and let you leave all nice n’ happy. All I want in return is my old pal Thunderclash here to stay with me.”

Thunderclash blinked, then glanced at the ground. “So... this was just a ploy to lure me here, huh?”

“Yep.” Motormaster grinned. “I’m kinda surprised it actually worked. It was one of Wildrider’s ideas.”

“That… makes a lot of sense,” Blast Off muttered, only for the Stunticon in question to punch him in the back of the head.

“Shut it,” Wildrider snarled. “And for the record, it worked, so it ain’t that crazy!”

Thunderclash sighed.

“Thunderclash, no,” Scorch said sternly. “We’ll find another way.”

“I’d accept, Motormaster…”

Motormaster scowled. “But? I hear a but.”

Thunderclash looked up, a grin on his face. “Bet you didn’t account for more than just the Turbomasters showing up, did you?”

:“I’ve got them in my sights. Can I go ahead and just go in already? ”:

“Of course,” Hyperdrive said with a smile. “Go right in.”

As Motormaster processed Thunderclash’s words, something big and green crashed through the window. A circular spacecraft flew in, transforming into his robot mode and tossing a mode lock onto Wildrider, who went into his racer mode.

“Cosmos…?” Blast Off muttered, his optics wide.

“No!” Motormaster growled. “Dead End, Runabout, Runamuck, stop them!”

The three Stunticon cars rushed forward, blasters in hand. It was then that Rotorstorm, carrying Boss and Hyperdrive, flew in. They leapt off, with Rotorstorm assuming his robot mode, and aimed their weapons at Motormaster.

“Motormaster, you’re under arrest for assault, robbery, murder, and a few more felonies,” Hyperdrive spat. “Just give me a reason to shoot.”

“Ugh, again, this is boring,” a blue and yellow Stunticon whined. “I want to see the boss torture his new prisoners!”

“He’s got personal plans for one of them,” Blackjack reminded. “So please shut your trap already, Hyperdrive.”

Suddenly, a stun blast slammed into the nearby Detour, knocking him out.

“Detour!” Blackjack cried. “Hyperdrive, we got a sniper!”

Placeholder lay on a nearby roof, face stoic and EM rifle in hand. “One down, sir.”

:“Excellent,”: Fireball replied. :“We’ll take ‘em down here. Keep up the good work.”:

Placeholder smiled. “Just keep them distracted and I’ll do my job.” They carefully aimed their rifle again.

The sound of a gunshot rang out, and after a brief flare of pain at the side of their head, Placeholder’s vision went dark.

:“Got the sniper,”: Dragstrip reported.

“Good work, Dragstrip,” Blackjack replied as he fired at the approaching team. “Try to take out some of the others.”

:“I’ll try. They’ve got a flier, though. Triggerhappy guy.”:

“Dragstrip, please tell me that’s a lowercase “t”.”

:“Don’t worry, it ain’t that Triggerhappy. It’s the adjective, not the bot.”:

Blackjack sighed in relief. “Good. How many ‘bots you see?”

:“Solid seven of ‘em,”: Dragstrip replied. :“Including the flier, who’s – OH PRIMUS!”:

Something exploded nearby, and Dragstrip flew off of a roof and landed on the ground, coming right in between a mode lock and Road Hugger, forcing him into his racer mode with a cry of “Not again!”.

Blackjack growled as Detour rose. “Alright, we’re out. Hyperdrive, Detour, Road Hugger, let’s get out of here!”

The four assumed their vehicle modes and drove off, leaving Dragstrip behind to be taken captive.

“Excellent work!” Fireball said. “You too, Placeholder.”

Nothing.

“Placeholder?”

Still no response.

“Powerglide, get to Placeholder’s–”

“Would,” Powerglide said as he limped over. “But that yellow dragster grounded me before I sent him flyin’. Placeholder’s gonna be fine, though. They’ve endured worse than a single Stunticon could dish out aside from Motormaster.”

“I hope so,” Fireball muttered. “Alright, team, let’s roll out!”

As the team assumed their alternate modes, Fireball turned to Hurricane.

“Any word from Hyperdrive?”

“Negative,” the engineer replied. “He’s got his hands a bit full, so it’ll take him a little bit.”

Hyperdrive slammed into a wall. He grunted as he pulled himself out of the dent left behind.

“This... might take a little bit.”

As the Turbomasters engaged the Stunticons, Cosmos rushed over to where Slashmark and Wildbreak held Blast Off captive.

“What’s this pipsqueak gonna do?” Slashmark chuckled. “Bite me? Can’t even do that with your mouthplate, minibot!”

“Nah,” Cosmos replied. “But I know I’ll beat you.”

“And why’s that?”

“You’re standing between me and the one ‘bot that doesn’t make me feel alone.”

Two blasters folded out of Cosmos’ wrists, souvenirs from his time in the Primal Vanguard. He quickly gunned Slashmark down and turned his weapons towards Wildbreak.

“Oh, scrap this!” Wildbreak cried, assuming his vehicle mode and driving off. Cosmos folded the blasters away and walked over to Blast Off.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” the space shuttle remarked as his green and yellow partner began unlocking his cuffs. “And with the Elite Guard, no less?”

Cosmos chuckled. “I’m not properly with them. I know how you feel about the current government, and I agree. But I heard you were in trouble, so… here we are. I swear, those Combaticons are going to be the death of you.”

“I’ve been with them since the war. I’ll be fine, Cosmos.”

As Blast Off’s handcuffs dropped, the two quickly embraced. 

When they separated, Cosmos cupped one of Blast Off’s cheeks in his hand.

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

The sound of Scorch flying across the room distracted them.

“Suppose we should get back to the matter at hand.”

Blast Off grinned. “Agreed.”

Motormaster growled as he crossed blades with Thunderclash. 

“You can’t defeat me! I’ve worked too hard to lose now!”

Hyperdrive, meanwhile, rushed over to the injured Scorch, thrown aside by Heatseeker’s missiles.

“You all right, Scorch?”

Scorch groaned as he rose. “I’ll be much better once we take care of Heatseeker. Any ideas?”

“Well, we already drove those two goons – the black and white ones – out the window. Looks like Cosmos took out a couple, so we still have Heatseeker and Dead End? Yeah, Dead End.”

“Scratch Dead End.”

Hyperdrive glanced up to see Cosmos and Blast Off standing over the red Stunticon, who was now unconscious.

“Then that leaves Heatseeker and Motormaster. Rotorstorm, Cosmos, Blast Off, you’re helping me with Heatseeker. Boss, Scorch, go for Motormaster. Move out!”

The group split up. Hyperdrive and his team rushed Heatseeker. The Stunticon growled as they approached. “Fine! You wanna piece of me?!“

His shoulder pads opened, and heat-seeking missiles flew out.

“Blast Off, Cosmos, take care of the missiles!”

Blast Off quickly assumed his shuttle form and rocketed out of the broken window, the missiles following him. Cosmos assumed his flying saucer alternate mode and followed, blasting down the missiles one by one.

Rotorstorm, meanwhile, dropped down on Heatseeker from above, slamming a mode lock onto him. Heatseeker reverted to his alternate mode, growling at the Turbomasters.

Thunderclash’s team, on the other hand, was doing far worse. Motormaster slammed Boss into a wall, knocking him out, and then gunned Scorch down before returning his attention to Thunderclash.

“Let’s settle this, ‘Clash,” the Stunticon leader snarled. “Once and for–”

A mode lock broke through a nearby window and hit Motormaster, forcing him into his truck mode.

As Motormaster screamed in rage, Thunderclash looked up to see… Skywarp? The Seeker disappeared as suddenly as he’d appeared, teleporting to parts unknown.

“No! No! I will not be denied!”

“Might wanna ease off, Motormaster,” Thunderclash taunted, turning back to the Stunticon leader. “You know what happens if you push those mode locks. Remember Rapid Run?”

Motormaster growled, but stopped struggling. Hyperdrive noticed this and contacted Hurricane. “We’ve got him, Hurricane. How’re things on the ground?”

:“Blackjack and his little gang escaped. We managed to get ahold of Dragstrip, though. Where we putting these guys?”:

Hyperdrive thought for a moment. “Criminals of this caliber need high security. Take them to Kalis.”

:“Yes, sir.”:

Hyperdrive walked over to Motormaster and looked down at the semi. “You’re going away for a long time, Motormaster.”

Motormaster merely growled in response.

“Ugh, thank Primus I got out of there in time,” Knock Out muttered. “Couldn’t let ’em catch my shiny red finish.”

Knock Out looked back towards the exit of the city as the Elite Guard departed.

“Eh, they’re pieces of work, anyways.”

Knock Out assumed his racer mode and drove off.

“It will please you to know that Vos is now Stunticon free,” Sentinel informed as he closed his secure line with Delta Magnus. “You can go now.”

“Is that snark I hear?” Ulchtar asked with a grin. “Oh, Sentinel, you’re going to make a fine Prime.”

“I – how’d you–?”

“Please. Who else is he going to pick, Bombshock?” Ulchtar rolled his optics. “Sure, Hyperdrive, maybe. But you seem more likely, being one of his loyal lackeys and all. Now, I must be going. Farewell, Sentinel.” The senator began to leave, followed closely by Thundercracker and Sunstorm.

“One more thing.”

Ulchtar stopped. “Yes?”

“Thunderclash saw Skywarp. He was the one to deliver the final blow to bring Motormaster down. Any comments?”

Ulchtar blinked. “I know nothing regarding him. But I will look into it. If we find him, I will inform you.”

“But Skywarp?” Sunstorm muttered. “I remember him from the war. Despicable little scrap. One of the Skyraiders – erm, Seekers – to stay with SCRASH. He’s not the kind to help out of the goodness of his spark.”

“Maybe he’s changed? Y’know, classic face-turn?”

“Shut up, Thundercracker. You weren’t there, and this isn’t one of those… no-veels you like. The ones made by organics.”

“It’s novels,” the blue and black Seeker muttered as he and the yellow Seeker followed Ulchtar out of the room. Sentinel sighed, the reality of the situation setting in. Skywarp was back. Skywarp was back. That couldn’t mean anything remotely good.

Ulchtar, Thundercracker, and Sunstorm landed on the platform outside the senator’s chambers in the Vos capital building, quickly assuming their robot mode.

“‘Sup.”

Ulchtar sighed, turning to see Skywarp, who had just teleported behind them.

“Skywarp, what in the Pit were you thinking?” the senator hissed. “You’ve been seen here on two separate occasions! I could end up neck-deep in scrap because of you!”

Skywarp shrugged. “Eh. Could be worse. Could be I was with Skyquake. Or better, I coulda gone to Iacon myself to tell ‘em. That’d be fun, seeing all their reactions to me being partnered with you. You’d get in trouble. I’d find that entertaining. Pit, I already find that entertaining.”

Ulchtar sighed. “Skywarp, if you want your continued presence on Cybertron to remain in the dark, then you’re going to do as I say. Are we clear?”

“Alright, sheesh,” Skywarp muttered. “Fun killer.”

Thundercracker, meanwhile, sat down and turned on a nearby viewscreen.

“Thundercracker, please tell me you aren’t turning anything like Freeway on,” Sunstorm whined.

Thundercracker cringed. “Oh, Primus, no. He’s awful. Just looking at the news.”

It cut to the most well-known news channel on Cybertron, run by Andromeda. :“And now, we’ve got something unexpected: a statement by the popular gladiator Megatron! Turning it over to Rook in the field.”:

“Thank you, Andromeda,” Rook said, gazing into camera held by Longview. “I’m here with Megatron, who claims he wants to say something to the public. So, what does the Terror of Tarn have to say to all us lowly citizens?”

Megatron sighed. “Do not call me that. And do not act as if I am above you. I am not. None are above another.”

He recomposed himself and looked over at Longview. “Citizens of Cybertron, I am Megatron of Tarn. I see your suffering under Zeta Prime, and I see the inability of our own “security” to protect us.” 

:“Indeed, just earlier today, a gladiator named Quake managed to plow through Tarn’s security forces and had to be stopped by me. Citizens should not be forced to aid their so-called “protectors” in keeping their cities safe!”:

Orion Pax, Elita-1, Dion, and Barrelroller watched the speech in Maccadam’s. The bartender, the titular Maccadam, observed as well, letting out a sigh.

“And so it begins…”

:“People are oppressed and mutilated every day for refusing to do what others wish! What the Functionists wish!”:

Alpha Trion observed the broadcast and shook his head with a sigh. The day he’d been warned about, the day he dreaded, was coming ever closer.

:“So we rise up against our oppressors! The Ascenticons shall be in hiding no longer!”:

Zeta Prime slammed his hands onto his desk. His optics narrowed in anger.

“They were gone!” he roared, grabbing a nearby model of the starship Proudstar and throwing it into the wall. “The Ascenticons were supposed to stay gone!”

He activated his comlink. “Guardian, speed up progress by twenty percent. We have a crisis on our hands.”

:“We will not let the Autobots force us into being what we do not wish to be!”:

Somewhere deep in the Badlands, Termagax watched, her expression blank.

“Maybe he can truly change things for the better – and do what I could not.”

:“Hear me, Zeta. Hear me, Functionists. We will not stop until you are dethroned. Until peace has been properly restored. Until we are finally in a new Golden Age! And we will not fear you. Ascenticons, rise up!”:

A purple and gold senator watched as Rook came back onscreen. He turned off the viewscreen and rose, a smile on his face.

“Action, Senator Ratbat?” Soundwave said from behind him.

Ratbat smiled. “Elementary, Soundwave. We have an opportunity before us… so we seize it.”

Chapter Text

“Any luck, Perceptor?”

“Negative,” Perceptor answered as Zeta Prime walked around the lab. “The “ultra-Energon” Scorponok found all that time ago… its composition continues to elude me. It is a marvel of science. Our technology is nowhere near this advanced.”

“Magnificus?”

“I dunno,” the black microscope bearing the same body-type as Perceptor replied. “I’m not that science-y.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Functionism,” he muttered. “I’m better at the strategy stuff. I want to help keep Cybertron safe. But nooo, since I'm a stupid microscope, I’m relegated to this stuff. I had fraggin’ Zardak as a mentor, and I’m still put into science.”

“Don’t you dare speak heresy against–”

“Now, now,” Perceptor said calmly, stepping in. “Let’s not get too heated. This is a lab, not a gladiatorial ring.”

Zeta stepped back. “Well, get me results, Perceptor.”

With that, the Prime walked out. Once the door closed, Lancer sighed. “Finally, he’s gone. Why does he think we’re ever going to uncover anything about this stuff?”

“Yes, it seems whoever made this was able to keep its chemical makeup hidden from the view of a regular bot.”

Lancer froze. “Wait, it’s not natural?”

“No?” Perceptor glanced back at her. “I thought that was a given. Have you even looked at it?”

“Hey, you’re the one with a giant magnifying glass on your shoulder, not me. And Magnificus doesn’t give a scrap.”

Perceptor sighed. “It’s not a… I suppose you should get over here so I can show you how to tell the difference between natural and synthetic, before Greenlight gets here.”

“Greenlight’s coming?! Oh, Primus, I wasn’t ready for that!”

Magnificus rolled his optics. “Congrats, Percy, you ruined the surprise.”

“It was a surprise?! Aw, man, now I feel guilty. Must… forget… ”

Perceptor watched, somewhat confused. “I… don’t understand. Why is this such a big deal?”

Magnificus sighed and put an arm around Perceptor. “I’ll tell you when you’re older, Percy.”

“I am older than you, Magnificus.”

“For all your brains, you just can’t wrap your head around the concept of romance, huh?”

Lancer gawked. “Mags! How dare you!”

Magnificus snickered. “Oh, come on, Lancer. It’s so obvious. I’ve got a bet with Hound on whether you’ll ask.”

“Wait, really?”

“No.”

“Oh, thank–”

“It’s Glyph I made the bet with. The little optimist is so certain that you’ll actually do it. I think you’re too much of a coward, personally.”

“Why you little–”

“No rough housing in the lab, please,” Perceptor reminded. “I swear, this is like being a mentor to a pair of protoforms.”

Nightbeat glanced at the evidence on his datapad as he stood before the Iacon Medical Center. At his side stood three bots: two cars, one silver and one blue, and a yellow van.

“We going in or what?” the blue car asked.

“Hey, ease off ‘im, Jolt!” the van, Nightbeat’s mentee, growled defensively.

“It’s alright, Puzzle,” Nightbeat said. “I have been a bit lost in thought.”

“Well, let’s get in there,” the silver car (Downshift, he recalled) said. “If we’re gonna figure out who murdered Guardian, as you claimed, then we need to hurry.”

“You’re right. Downshift, Jolt, stay here. Puzzle, with me.”

Nightbeat and Puzzle entered the medical center, and were greeted by Cogwheel’s understudy Ratchet.

“Hello, Nightbeat,” the medic said. “What are you doing here? Not getting anyone fixed, I hope.”

“Why not, hm?”

“Because then someone’s gotten hurt.”

Nightbeat shrugged. “Fair enough. Where’s–”

“Cogwheel’s in the back. Don’t get too pushy – she’s having to deal with Sunstreaker.”

Nightbeat and Puzzle walked into the medbay, where Cogwheel stood over the golden gladiator. His brother stood beside them.

“Ow!” Sunstreaker hissed. “Watch the paint, will you?”

Cogwheel sighed. “Sunstreaker, if you would stop moving, I could actually finish fixing you.”

“Just listen to her, ‘Streaker,” Sideswipe insisted. “She knows what she’s doing. And trust me, next time I see that Megatron, he’s goin’ down.”

“Unless I take him down first.”

“You can talk all you want, just hold still,” Cogwheel grunted.

“Cogwheel.”

Cogwheel glanced over towards the pair of security officers.

“Nightbeat. Puzzle. If you’ll just give me a klik to finish up here.”

“Seems like it’ll take a while,” Nightbeat noted. “We don’t have that time. This is urgent.”

Cogwheel sighed. “Fine. Ratchet, Pharma, take care of this glitch.” She gestured to Sunstreaker.

“Hey!”

“I’ve got some business to attend to.”

The remaining medics stepped in to take over for Cogwheel as she led Nightbeat and Puzzle to her office.

“So,” she started as she closed the door. “What is this about?”

“I read your reports on Guardian Prime’s condition. Doesn’t add up. You even said so.”

Cogwheel blinked. “I lost those notes ages ago. Where–?”

“Prowl’s desk, back when he was head of security. He flipped it after learning of the Iacon Massacre. Nearly took my head off.”

Cogwheel blinked. “You’ve had this for that long?”

“In my defense, I had to comb through all his redacted medical files. The ones of the Magnuses, for example. Magni?”

“You know?”

“I’ve known for a long time, Cogwheel,” Nightbeat responded nonchalantly. “Anyways, back to the topic at hand.”

Cogwheel sighed. “Yes, my records on Guardian Prime and his case disappeared some time ago. His Corrodia Gravis was far too advanced for how long he’d had it. It wasn’t some sort of mutation – my only conclusion was that someone intentionally fostered it to near-lethal levels and then unleashed it on him.”

“That was my theory as well,” Nightbeat muttered. “But we need proof.”

“Try finding the old head of intelligence,” Cogwheel suggested. “He disappeared, alongside the footage from the Prime quarters, shortly after Prime was infected.”

“Alright.” Nightbeat pulled out a datapad, preparing to type. “And his name is…?”

“Viewfinder.”

“Viewfinder?” Perceptor muttered. “He was the old head of the intelligence division, correct?”

“Yep.” Magnificus lay back in a chair, putting his feet on a lab table (much to Perceptor’s ire). “I remember him. Fun bot, Viewfinder. Knew how to do things the best way possible.”

“I think Greenlight knew him,” Lancer muttered. “Which, she’s not here yet, but she will be soon, so…”

“Then we’ll wait.”

It wasn’t long before the door opened, and a green and white female Cybertronian stepped in. She blinked at the sight of the officers.

Lancer waved at her nervously. “Hiiii, Greenlight!”

“Woah. Okay, I was not expecting Sec-Ops. What’s this about?”

“We heard you might have some information regarding a bot of interest,” Nightbeat answered. “Former head of intelligence Viewfinder. I’m told you knew him. We need his help in solving a case.”

Greenlight rolled her optics. “Yeah, I knew him – kilocycles ago, anyways. Haven’t seen him since he disappeared.”

“Disappeared, you say?”

Looks like this was a classic missing persons case. Kidnapping? Or in hiding? It was just another mystery for–

“Nightbeat, we can see that you’re doing an internal monologue,”  Greenlight muttered. “If you’re really pressed for time, I’d say that you need to ask one of the senators about it. They voted him in, and they replaced him with Ratbat’s lackey Soundwave. They might know something.”

“Yes, but… who could we trust?”

“Erm… I have an idea.”

Nightbeat turned around to see Jolt standing at the door.

“Sorry,” he said apologetically, following with a nervous chuckle. “I, uh… just got a bit curious. But, yeah, I know the senator to go to.”

“Really?” Nightbeat asked. “Who?”

“Senator Jhiaxus.”

“Nightbeat is a problem.”

“Affirmative.”

Ratbat glanced at the datapad. The detective had recently been going around, asking bots about… something. Ratbat could only assume he was investigating Quake’s escape, and if he found a link to Soundwave…

“Call in one of our agents,” the senator ordered. “Nightbeat cannot learn that you set Quake free.”

“Affirmative. Contacting Jolt.”

“Are you sure this is the best way?”

“I assure you, my friend, if you want Quake to take the fall, this is how you do it.”

“But… mnemosurgery?”

“I’ll just implant the impulse to kill Corkscrew. Shouldn’t be that hard – he probably already wants to, in which case I’ll make the urge… stronger. Only slightly – Primus knows he’s already unhinged enough.”

“As long as that is all you do to him. I do not want to lose myself the way Zeta has.”

Chromedome retracted his mnemosurgery needles and pulled out of Quake’s head.

“Yep. As I thought,” he said, rising. “Someone manipulated him. The one who ordered it was awfully reserved. Kept to himself and was reluctant to do it. The mnemosurgeon, though, he was giddy. I’m narrowing it down to Trepan or Sunder.”

Zeta Prime sighed. “We cannot allow a disturbance like this again. Get me Nightbeat. He’ll take this and the case regarding Quake’s untimely release. Now, I have more important matters to attend to, so if you’ll excuse me…”

Zeta walked off, leaving Chromedome behind. The programmer sighed as Pointblank and Sureshot escorted Quake out. As they did, a black and white Deployer walked in.

“Hey, Domey,” he said fondly. “Did it go well?”

Chromedome turned around, the voice of his Conjunx Endura instantly recognizable to him. “Hey, Rewind. And… yes and no? Zeta’s still giving me bad vibes.”

“You, me, and many others,” Rewind said gently. “But whatever’s going on with him, it’ll sort itself out.”

“I hope so, Rewind.”

“You want us to what?”

:“You will halt whatever nonsense you’re doing and devote your resources to uncovering the identity of who freed the gladiator and who set him on the other gladiator.”:

“You mean Quake and Corkscrew?”

:“Whatever! Just get it done!”:

With that, Zeta hung up. Jolt reset his vocal circuits, with a sound similar to an organic’s cough.

“So, uh… what now?”

Nightbeat sighed. “We do as told… but we are not losing the Guardian Prime case. This timing seems awfully convenient, doesn’t it? We get a lead, and then Zeta calls in and tells us we need to focus on something else?”

“Thank Primus,” Downshift muttered. “I thought I was the only one. He’s hiding something.”

“Careful, Downshift. You’re gonna start sounding like Red Alert.”

“Puzzle, I swear to Primus–”

“Quiet!” Nightbeat hissed. “We need to focus. Jolt, you said you know where Jhiaxus is. I’m going to message Sentinel – get him to have Prowl divert some more trustworthy officers to me. Some of ‘em will go with you, the others will go with me. Now–”

“Uh, Nightbeat?”

The detective groaned. “Yes, Jolt?”

“I’m… getting a message. It’s from an old pal of mine named Pothole. He says he has some information we need.”

“How does he know about this investigation?”

“Um… he’s my, er… roommate.”

“So your Conjunx Endura.”

Jolt’s optics widened, his silver faceplate tinged with blue. “Oh, no.  Not… not yet. I mean, yes, we’re together, but I haven’t – I mean, I want to, but – uh… ”

“It’s fine.” Nightbeat chuckled. “If he knows something about the case, he’s where we make our first stop.”

“He’s sending a meeting place.”

“Good. Lead the way, Jolt. Our backup will have to wait.”

Jolt nodded and assumed his car mode, leading the others off. Unknown to the group, a purple racer watched them from a nearby rooftop.

“Jolt to Soundwave. They’re on the move. Orders?”

:“Initiate pursuit. Incapacitate, but do not kill. We do not need any more untimely deaths linked to Senator Ratbat.”:

“But if they survived, they’d be more likely to link Ratbat to the attack, right?”

:“Incorrect. We have ways to conceal his involvement.”:

Jolt shrugged. “Whatever. Just let me give pursuit.”

:“Do as you have been told, Jolt.”:

“I told you, I’m gonna! Have a bit more faith, ‘Wave.”

With that, Soundwave cut the connection. Jolt groaned. “How in the Pit did I end up working for these guys…?” he muttered, before leaping over to a nearby rooftop in pursuit of his quarry.

Downshift and Puzzle stood guard as Nightbeat and Jolt entered the alleyway.

“Didn’t think a guy would wanna meet us in the alleyway,” Nightbeat muttered.

“Don’t be paranoid,” Jolt said with a roll of his optics. “I promise you, he’s safe.”

“Jolt? You there?”

“Yeah, Pothole. I’m here. You can come out.”

A blue and orange bot carefully stepped out of the shadows. It left Nightbeat wondering how he was able to blend in so well.

“Nightbeat, right?”

Nightbeat nodded. “Erm… yes. That’s me.”

Pothole sighed. “Good. Listen, I have information regarding Quake’s escape. I know who had him set free.”

“Who?”

“It was Senator–”

Pothole was cut off when a blast of red energy flew from a nearby roof, obliterating Pothole’s head.

“Pothole!”

Jolt rushed to his partner as Nightbeat started climbing. 

“Downshift, Puzzle, we have a runner. Get to the rooftops!”

:“Yes, sir!”:

“He’s gone.”

Nightbeat glanced behind him. Jolt cradled Pothole’s body, watching with sadness and horror as its bright colors faded to gray.

Downshift assumed his car mode, which quickly shifted to its flight mode and flew up, going after the assailant. Downshift swooped down and returned to robot mode, tackling him from behind and knocking his strangely-glowing sword out of his hand.

It wasn’t long before Nightbeat, Puzzle, and Jolt caught up. Nightbeat leaned down, glaring at the assailant.

“So…”

“I’ll tell you anything, I swear! Just don’t kill me or anything!”

Jolt growled. “Why I outghta…” Suddenly, a pair of electrified whips emerged from his arms.

“Save it, Jolt,” Nightbeat ordered. “Save the anger for the trial. And we need to talk about why you’ve never used those before.”

Jolt blinked then looked down at his arms. His optics widened in shock at the sight of the whips. “Oh, slag…”

Nightbeat gauged Jolt’s reaction and came to a quick conclusion.

“You’re one of those outliers, aren’t you?”

Jolt froze.

“Thought so,” Nightbeat muttered. “Look, pal, I can’t pretend to understand how hard it is with the Functionists against you, but just know, I absolutely despise how they treat bots like you.”

Jolt smiled a small smile.

“Wait, you’re that other Jolt that Senator Jhiaxus kept talking about, aren’t you?”

Nightbeat whipped around to face the fallen bot. “Jhiaxus? He’s behind this?”

The bot chuckled. “Aw, pit no. He’s too nice. Oh, don’t think I’ve introduced myself yet. Name’s Jolt, nice to meet ya.”

The blue Jolt blinked. “Well, this is gonna be confusing.”

“But yeah,” the purple Jolt continued. “Jhiaxus ain’t behind this. The guy you really want is–”

Out of nowhere, a laser burst through the roof under them, tearing through the purple Jolt’s chest like it was nothing and piercing straight through his spark chamber. His body instantly turned gray as a red and black avian Deployer flew out of a window below them.

“Downshift!”

“On it!”

Downshift quickly went to his flight mode, pursuing the yellow Deployer through the air. However, the smaller size of the Deployer allowed it to slip into a building which Downshift couldn’t fit into.

“Slag!” he muttered, flying back to Nightbeat.

“So,” Nightbeat muttered as Downshift assumed his robot mode. “Both Jolts have some familiarity with Jhiaxus, and based on this one only having a sword on him, both are outliers. I say we find Jhiaxus and ask him a few friendly questions.”

“Please don’t hurt him.”

“What? Oh, the connotations. No, I mean that literally. We’ll ask him some questions involving the case in a friendly way.”

“Oh, thank Primus.”

“He’s taken care of, boss,” the red bird reported as it rested on Soundwave’s forearm. “Jolt won’t be spilling any more secrets.”

“Excellent work, Laserbeak. You may go now.”

Laserbeak flew off, leaving Soundwave alone with his master.

“So they are off our trail for the moment,” Ratbat muttered with a smile. “Excellent. Now, Soundwave, I have another job for you and your pets.”

“They are not pets. They are not animals. Ravage and Laserbeak are my friends.”

“Yes, yes, whatever.” Ratbat waved Soundwave off. “Point is, I have a task for you.”

Soundwave hesitated before replying. “What is it you require, Senator?”

Ratbat smiled. “You recall the Ascenticons, correct?”

Chapter Text

Nightbeat and his team stood before the Academy of Advanced Technology. Established by Jhiaxus during the Golden Age, it served as a place for bots to come and learn the ways of science. Nightbeat couldn’t say he understood, but some of Cybertron’s greatest scientific minds, including Wheeljack, Perceptor, Shockwave, and the departed Mainframe.

“Shall we?” Downshift asked.

“Please don’t tell me you’re raiding the academy.”

The group turned to see Jhiaxus walking towards them, a very  unamused look on his face.

“Hello, Jolt.”

Jolt chuckled. “Uh, hi, Senator.”

Nightbeat stepped forward. “We have a few leads in a case sending us here. We’re simply investigating.”

Jolt walked over to Jhiaxus and leaned into his audio receptor. 

“They’re not against us,” he whispered. “They found out about me. They’re safe.”

“Don’t tell me you’re in on this too, Jolt.”

Jolt sighed. “No, Nightbeat. I have nothing to do with the Guardian Prime situation. However, there’s something else.”

“If we show you, you must promise to never inform Zeta,” Jhiaxus said sternly. “Understood?”

Nightbeat glanced back at the two behind him, then returned his gaze to Jhiaxus. “Understood.”

Jhiaxus stepped up to the front door and opened it. He ushered the group in, quickly shutting the door behind him.

“Now, Jhiaxus, we need some questions answered.”

“And they will be answered in due time, Nightbeat,” the senator assured. “For now, I’m going to let you in on a secret.”

Jhiaxus pressed a button on his arm. “All special education students, please report to the lobby.”

“Special education?” Nightbeat was thoroughly confused. “How is this a secret?”

“You’ll see,” Jolt assured.

Before long, a group of bots stood before them – an orange one-eyed bot with claws, a blue hatchback, a black pickup, a white and blue sports car, a white and red sports car, a red and gray car, another red and gray car, and a gray and black triple-changer, with wings sticking off his back.

“Wait, aren’t they security?” the white and red car growled, her optics narrowing.

“Relax, Freezon,” Jolt said, stepping forward. “They’re okay. We’re cool.”

“Allow me to introduce you to our “special education” students – actually outliers in hiding,” Jhiaxus said. “From right to left, we have Damus, who can shut down machinery with a touch; Skids, who has some sort of superlearning ability; Trailbreaker, who can generate forcefields; Natron and Freezon, twins who can quite literally glow; Windcharger, with magnetic powers; Dash, who can convert sunlight into Energon; and Octane, who has the innate ability to sense Energon stashes.”

“They can make and locate Energon?” Nightbeat muttered. “Why haven’t we heard about this?”

“The Senate has bots like Ratbat, and Zeta Prime is in charge. Need I say more?”

Nightbeat shrugged. Then, his face fell into thought. This went unnoticed by Jhiaxus, who continued.

“We do have one more student, but he seems to have ignored my  call… again.”

“Sorry I’m late! What’s–”

The bot stopped in the doorway. He was a fairly basic design. His chassis was blue, with a small engine at the center of his torso. A green window adorned his chest. He stepped back, optics wide.

“Yo, Reflector!” Natron called out. “Took ya long enough!”

The bot called Reflector stepped back, staring at Nightbeat and the others.

“Ah, there he is,” Jhiaxus said, smiling. “This is my final student. The others call him Reflector because of his unique ability, but his real name is Viewfinder.”

“As you can see, the new Guardian is nearly complete,” Shockwave reported. “We merely need to complete the head and it will be ready.”

“I don’t appreciate falsehoods, Shockwave.”

Shockwave blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Where are the extra weapons I wanted installed?”

“Sir?”

“Oh, yes, I forgot to inform you. My apologies. Our direction has changed. My Sentinel – my Guardian Sentinel – will be used to completely eliminate the Ascenticons from the face of our planet. They shall poison our world no longer with their heretic actions.”

“This… this is madness!” Shockwave stuttered. “You cannot possibly think that–”

“That I’ll get away with this?” Zeta smiled cruelly. “Of course I will. I am a Prime. Who’s going to believe a senator over me? Besides, I have my own leverage. Keep working on the project…”

Zeta held up a small projector, and from it came an image of the Academy.

“…or I’ll raid your precious academy and slaughter every last outlier you’re hiding inside.”

Shockwave’s jaw dropped as Zeta’s smile grew even crueler.

“Viewfinder?!” Puzzle exclaimed. “That’s the bot we’re looking for!”

Nightbeat blinked, his train of thought paused. “So you’re hiding Viewfinder here, I see.”

Jhiaxus frowned. “Jolt, I thought that you said they were all for outlier rights.”

“They are!” Jolt argued. “They’re looking for Viewfinder because he may be connected to–”

“You’re not takin’ me back to the Institute!” Viewfinder cried, pulling out a pistol and opening fire. The officers quickly dove out of the way.

“Viewfinder, listen!” Nightbeat called out. “We just–”

“No!” the former intelligence officer called back. “You – you aren’t getting in my head again!”

“He’s fraggin’ nuts,” Downshift muttered. “He’s talking about the Institute. Everybody knows that it’s not real!”

“Y’sure about that?” Jolt muttered. “‘Cause he seems very convinced that he’s been there.”

Viewfinder stumbled back, pulling something else off of his waist. 

Nightbeat’s optics widened in shock.

“Grenade!”

Trailbreaker was quick to project a forcefield around Nightbeat and the officers (as well as Dash, who just so happened to be near them) as the other outliers and Jhiaxus ran into another room. The grenade went off, sending Nightbeat, Puzzle, Jolt, Downshift, Dash, Viewfinder, and Trailbreaker tumbling into the darkness below.

“You… you wouldn’t.”

Zeta Prime chuckled. “Wouldn’t I?”

“You’re sick,” Shockwave growled, taking a step back, only to be blocked by Guardian. “Sick and absolutely insane if you think I’m going to let you get away with this.”

“All I have to do is tell the Council where they are,” Prime said mockingly. “They’ll send in one of their squads, and… well, you know the rest.”

Shockwave growled, but finally relented. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

Zeta smiled. “I knew you’d come around.” He turned to the other engineer. “Guardian, keep your visor on him. I’m going to take care of the planning for the end of the Ascenticons.”

Guardian nodded, and all Shockwave could do was watch as Zeta Prime disappeared into the elevator, a smug grin on his face.

“You say we have a new recruit?”

“Yes, O glorious Megatron!” A massive, mono-optic flier decked out in purple and green replied in his usual bellowing tone. “Who wouldn’t want to be at the side of your eminence! Your gloriousness! Your–”

“Now, now, Lugnut, I do not need all that praise.”

“It is what the glorious Megatron rightfully deserves!”

Megatron sighed. “Oh, very well. But please, stay here.”

“As the almighty Megatron commands!”

Megatron left the room and sighed. Lugnut had been one of his biggest fans before joining the arena himself. Even when matched up against Megatron, he continued to shout praises for him. Trying to get him to stop was like trying to convince a Velocitronian not to race – that is to say, impossible.

“Lugnut got you outta there, I see?”

Megatron blinked and looked up to see Impactor leaning in the doorframe, grinning. The former Terror of Tarn smiled. “Impactor. I heard there’s a new recruit for the reborn Ascenticons.”

“Yep.” Impactor’s smile fell. Megatron noticed this. “And you’ll never believe who it is.”

“Termagax?”

“Nah, yer bein’ too optimistic.”

Impactor motioned for the bot to come in. In stepped a familiar, blue, boxy Cybertronian.

“Cybertron’s head of intelligence and Ratbat’s little suck-up – Soundwave him-fraggin’-self.”

Nightbeat’s optics flickered on. The entire room was shrouded in darkness, save the light pouring in from above thanks to Viewfinder’s grenade.

“The Pit are we?” Trailbreaker muttered as he rose.

“I… I think it’s the Undergrid,” Puzzle muttered.

“The Undergrid,” Downshift said, unamused.

“Yes.”

“You mean the “pathway of the Thirteen” Undergrid?”

“Um… yes?”

“The Thirteen, who do not exist?”

“That is your opinion.”

“Quiet! ” Nightbeat hissed, before turning back towards the rising Viewfinder.

“Ugh…” Viewfinder’s optics opened, and he froze as he saw Nightbeat standing above him.

“No no no no no no.” He tried to crawl away, but flinched and fell onto his back. His arm was injured.

“Please. Please don’t take me back…” he muttered. “I know I have  this information you don’t want getting out, just, please–”

“Calm down, Viewfinder,” Nightbeat said gently. “We’re not with whoever is after you. At least, not as far as I’m aware.”

Viewfinder winced. “Really? Are you sure?”

Nightbeat blinked. “Uh, yeah. Pretty sure. We’re investigating a set of clues revolving around Guardian Prime’s death. There seems to have been some sort of cover-up–”

“Thank Prima, someone finally noticed!” Viewfinder smiled. “I was starting to think I was the only smart one working for that aft Zeta.”

“Is everyone all right down there?”

The group looked up to see Jhiaxus peering down.

“For the most part!” Nightbeat called back. “Viewfinder and Downshift are hurt pretty bad, so we gotta get a medic here soon!”

“I’d evacuate you myself, but my wings were damaged in the explosion, and Octane disappeared,” the senator shouted. “I’m going to get ahold of Flatline, and security should be here soon!”

“We’ll sit tight down here!”

“Hey, uh, Nightbeat?”

Nightbeat turned as Dash spoke up. “Yes, um…”

“Dash. I’m sensing an Energon reading nearby. It’s not from us, but it’s definitely coming from another Cybertronian.”

“Someone else is down here?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s what I just said.”

“Alright.” Nightbeat turned to the group. “Trailbreaker, Jolt, stay with Viewfinder and Downshift. Dash, Puzzle, and I will investigate this signal. Contact us when help arrives.”

Trailbreaker nodded. “Will do.”

“Could I come with?”

Nightbeat sighed. “Viewfinder, you are too–”

“Watch this.”

Viewfinder closed his optics, and moments later, a Cybertronian materialized – identical to Viewfinder in every way save the lack of an engine on its chest. 

Downshift blinked. “Okay, what the Pit?”

“That’s my ability,” the two Viewfinders said at once. “I can create copies of myself and act through them. It’s why I’m called Reflector.”

“Cool, but dear Primus that is creepy,” Puzzle muttered.

“We’d better hurry if we’re going to find the source of the signal,” Nightbeat pointed out. “So let’s move!”

With that, Nightbeat, Dash, Puzzle, and the duplicate Viewfinder assumed their vehicular forms and drove off.

“Energon stores are declining at a rapid rate, Senator Ratbat,” a red bot otherwise identical to Sunstreaker reported. “If something isn’t done soon, we could be looking at planetary disaster.”

“Thank you, Spin-Out,” Ratbat muttered. “Dismissed.”

Spin-Out nodded and left the senator’s quarters. Ratbat sighed. 

“Everything will be fine,” he muttered. “Once you pull this off, our planet will be restored to its former glory. Cybertron’s future – your future – is in your hands. No pressure.”

“Yes, One-of-Twelve. They’re hiding the outliers there.”

“Excellent work, Zeta,” the head of the Functionist Council said, his singular yellow optic gazing down at the Prime. “We will dispatch Agent Dino right away.”

Unknown to the pair, a small bot named Fistfight crouched in the ventilation system, listening in. He quickly ran off.

He had to inform Shockwave.

“It’s in here,” Dash noted as the four entered the next room.

“I don’t see anything,” Viewfinder muttered. “If only Natron or Freezon were here…”

“Yes…” Nightbeat muttered, still deep in thought.

“Nightbeat? Something up?” Puzzle asked, a concerned look on his face.

“That’s it!” Nightbeat shouted, snapping his fingers. Puzzle flinched. “Erm… what’s it?”

“I know who freed Quake!” the detective said with a grin. Think about it. Know any senators with flunkies that have access to bots with sound-based powers?”

“Uh…”

“Ratbat!” Nightbeat continued. “He has Soundwave, who, in turn, knows that glitch Frenzy. ‘Course, Frenzy coulda been acting on his own, but he’s the only bot able to produce a noise at the frequency needed to deactivate mode locks. In fact, the only thing able to do so as far as we’re aware. So, unless someone just invented that kind of tech – and there’s no way any of the engineers wouldn’t have announced it ‘cause of their huge egos – then Frenzy is at least partially behind this.”

“Frenzy?” Puzzle asked incredulously. “That common criminal? He’s not really the type to mastermind anything.”

“More likely, he did it for giggles.”

“Good point.”

“Here.”

The group moved over to Dash. There was some sort of container before them.

“What is it?” Puzzle wondered aloud.

“It’s a container, dumbaft.” Viewfinder rolled his optics.

“I meant what’s inside it?”

“Let’s find out, shall we?” Nightbeat said, pressing a button on the side of the pod.

“Nightbeat, what the Pit?!” Viewfinder hissed.

“I’m a detective. Curiosity is one of my main traits. Kinda need it to do my job properly.”

“I think this is a bit too much curiosity!”

The container opened, and the group’s optics widened at what was inside.

On a distant blue-green planet, a white and gold Cybertronian with flag-like protrusions on his back and two cannons between them looked over a valley. It was unmistakable – that shape jutting out of the ground was of Cybertronian origin. A starship, maybe? Or perhaps a Titan?

The bot known as Sentius Magnus felt a small shock in his system. He could not remain here for long – the planet’s Energon radiation was too much. How this planet had so much Energon was another mystery – one to investigate another time.

A sudden feeling rushed through him. A familiar one, which he knew all too well. It was unique – there was no other word for it, no words that could describe it. He glanced into the sky, dread filling his spark.

It had been discovered, after all this time. He needed to get back to Cybertron – now. The fate of his planet was in the balance. 

On a distant planet known as Chaar, a black and purple Cybertronian otherwise identical to Sentius Magnus felt the same feeling. So it had been discovered at long last.

Sentius Malus couldn’t wait to see the chaos he could sow with something of its power.

This is Laserwave to Centuro. Zeta’s planning to raid the AAT.  Evacuate all outliers, and fast. We don’t have much time.

Shockwave sighed as he stepped away from the console. If he had been fast enough, Jhiaxus could evacuate the outliers before any of Zeta’s hunters arrived.

“Whatcha doin’, Shockwave?”

Shockwave froze. He turned to see Guardian and Zeta Prime standing behind him. He could just imagine that smug grin under Guardian’s mouthplate.

Zeta sighed. “Really, Shockwave, I’d have thought you would properly listen to me. But no, you just had to go and warn your friends.” The Prime shrugged. “Oh, well. Not like you were good at concealing your identity, anyways. I mean, Laserwave. Really? Fortunately, I have exactly an idea for your punishment.”

Zeta snapped his fingers, and a two members of the Functionist Guards rushed in, grabbing Shockwave and dragging him off.

“You will regret this,” Shockwave growled as the elevator door closed.

“No, I don’t think I will,” Zeta replied with a smile. He turned to Guardian. “Is the project near complete?”

“I wanted to speak with you before I implement the last few changes,” Guardian said.

“Oh?”

“The Destructor Sentinel–”

“Guardian Sentinel.”

“Yes, whatever. It needs a spark to power it, or it will not function. Even a regular spark will suffice. So, using basic design schematics created by Scorponok and improving on them using more recent technologies, I’ve come up with a solution by incorporating a Cybertronian into Sentinel to act as the controller – following special modifications, of course.”

“Interesting. And does it work?”

“Untested, as of now. Of course, with your permission, we can proceed with what I like to call… Project Headmaster.”

“There you go,” Hauler said as he pulled Nightbeat out. “Anyone else?”

“Just one,” Nightbeat replied.

“Wait.” Skids did a quick headcount. “But we got all seven of you out. How–?”

“Seven fell in, and eight are coming out.” Jhiaxus muttered. “I would like an explanation.”

“We… found someone,” Nightbeat said. “Go easy, he’s a bit out of it. Amnesia and such.”

Hauler raised the final platform, and on it stood a black and white bot of the same body-type as Sunstreaker. Something in Jhiaxus’ mind stirred. This 'bot looked familiar. But where had he seen him...?

The bot chuckled. “Uh, hi. The name’s Cordon, uh, I think.”

Chapter Text

“Soundwave, is it? Care to join me?”

Soundwave stood in the doorway within what had once Tarn’s arena, before Sentinel had them shut down following Quake’s rampage. Megatron stood before him on a balcony, looking down upon the match playing out – a huge gladiator named Overlord went up against a helicopter named Blackout. 

Megatron had helped Clench set up this secret arena. While he no longer participated in the combat itself, he knew that others needed this. Some sort of therapy or something. He supposed it was a bit unhealthy.

“You sent for me, Megatron,” Soundwave pointed out. “I came as called.”

“That you did, Soundwave.” The new head of the Ascenticons glanced over at the intelligence officer. “And you work for Ratbat, do you not?”

Soundwave went silent.

“Yes, I know of you,” Megatron said with a smile. “Awfully naïve of him, sending his known loyalist and head of intelligence to spy on us.”

“I… did not intend for you to know.”

“You weren’t supposed to know I knew,” Megatron muttered. “But Dezarus was worried you’d compromise our mission.”

“Mission?”

“Our mission for equality, a new Golden Age for Cybertron,” Megatron iterated. “Isn’t that what you want for your friends?”

“What’s your game?” a new voice growled. From the shadows emerged a black feline Cybertronian, his red optics gazing at Megatron. “What’re you gettin’ out of this?”

“I just told you, Ravage,” Megatron said with a smile. “A free, equal society. No more Functionism. No more hunters. Doesn’t that sound like the best future Cybertron could have?”

Soundwave gazed at the ground. Conflict toiled behind his yellow visor.

Betabear stumbled as he ran across the rough Badlands ground. This was just enough for a sniper to get a shot in, blowing the beast-bot’s head off.

“Betabear’s down!” Catilla called to his friend ahead of him.

“Slag!” Carnivac swore. “Those hunters are relentless. I’d admire their resolve if they weren’t using it for something so dishonorable.”

On a nearby ledge, Mirage sighed, rifle in hand.

:“Nice shot, Dino!”: Bolts congratulated, using Mirage’s hunting codename.

“Thanks, Micro,” Mirage replied. “Like shooting turbofoxes in a barrel. Conehead, you got optics on the targets?”

The black and gold Seeker known as Blast flew up high above the group. “Visual, Dino. These beasts ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

“Good. Fire when–”

Mirage paused as another link buzzed.

“Hold fire. Council’s calling.”

Blast groaned as Mirage answered. “Hello? We were in the middle of a hunt.”

:“Yes, I know, Agent Dino,”: the voice of Six-of-Twelve responded.  :“But you’re the best team we’ve got, and we’ve got a bigger mission. Get your team together.”:

Before long, the entire hunting team, consisting of Blast, Bolts, Battleslash, Roadtrap, and Powerdive, had gathered around Mirage.

“Alright, Six, what do you need?”

“We’ve discovered where Senator Shockwave has been hiding the outliers,” the Councillor briefed. “We don’t know what he’s done with them or if he’s conditioned them. For our safety, they must be exterminated. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!” the group, save Mirage, said. Six-of-Twelve’s image disappeared, and Roadtrap pulled out his pistol.

“We ready?”

Battleslash grinned, spinning the blades in his arms. “Oh, Pit, yeah. Can’t wait to get paid for this!”

“Yo, Mirage, you ready to do this?” Powerdive asked with a grin.

Mirage blinked. “Um, yeah, sure.”

“You alright, man?” Blast asked. “I mean, I get it, the outliers are just bots with weird powers, but… it pays well. That Shanix is more important, right?”

“I… guess so.”

“Well, let’s get going, then!”

Mirage assumed his racer mode and followed after the rest of the team, apprehension building in his mind. Of course he wasn’t happy with this – after all, he was an outlier, too. Not that anyone needed to know that, of course.

“Leave?!” Windcharger exclaimed. “We can’t just leave! It’s not safe out there!”

“It's not safe here either, ‘Charger,” Skids said. “Or did you not hear Jhiaxus just say we’re compromised?”

“And if they’re looked for you here, they won’t be looking too far,” Jhiaxus added. “I’ve lost contact with Shockwave, so I’m sending you to a friend. His name is Dai Atlas, and he is willing to give you refuge in Crystal City. This Cordon bot will be going with you, too. Whatever his situation is, I don’t trust Zeta’s security with him.”

“No scrap, Gredock,” Freezon muttered.

“I don’t take sarcasm very well,” Jhiaxus reminded. “So, Freezon, if you would please just listen to what I have to say…”

Freezon huffed, getting a chuckle out of Natron. She shot a glare at her brother, quickly shutting him up.

“What about you?” Trailbreaker asked the senator, worry apparent in his tone.

“I will be safe, Trailbreaker,” Jhiaxus assured. “I will be seeking refuge with some friends of mine. I have ensured that Brainstorm can cover for me. Now, get moving. We don’t have much time.”

As the outliers departed, Jhiaxus sighed. He knew where he must go now. He bade Brainstorm farewell and made for Tarn.

“I’m thinking about quitting.”

Rewind glanced up at Chromedome. Needless to say, he was a bit surprised. “Really? Why now?”

“I just…” Chromedome sighed. “I need to get away from Zeta. From… that place. With what Nightbeat said about Viewfinder… and then I heard about what they’re doing to Shockwave. I just… can’t anymore.”

“I understand,” Rewind said sympathetically. “But you know Zeta won’t take too kindly to that, right?”

“I… I know. But I need to do this anyway.”

“It’s alright, Domey. You do what you need to.”

“I don’t get it. They said they were here!”

“I assure you, we don’t have any outliers here,” Brainstorm insisted. “The JAAT takes pride in its innovation and its obedience to the law.”

“That’s a pile of scrap if I ever heard one,” Powerdive growled. “You’d better tell us where they are right now, or I’ll gut you like an organic!”

“Hold up,” Blast said. “Where’s Jhiaxus?”

“Some political thing with Shockwave,” Brainstorm replied with a shrug. “Not my kinda thing, so I’m subbing for him, I guess.”

Powerdive rose, his arm-mounted blades spinning. “Tell us. Now .”

“Blade, wait–”

“Quiet, Dino!” the flier growled. “We’ve gotta get this information  out of him, now . So he’s gonna tell us where the outliers are – or I’m gonna slice him to pieces. Bein’ alt-mode exempt ain’t gonna help you this time. How does that sound, Brainstorm?”

Nightbeat walked towards the station. It was almost time for his interrogation of Viewfinder. The former head of intelligence was all too happy to cooperate. Nightbeat had been having a good few days since finding the outlier.

“I’m in position, Zeta. Got him in my sights.”

:“Good. Take him out. Then get to Target A.”:

“Will do.”

The mercenary known as Shadow Raider carefully aimed her rifle at Nightbeat’s head and fired. The blast hit him square in the center of his head, right between his optics. The detective fell, his apprentice rushing to his aid, as Shadow Raider made for the station.

However, she didn’t make it, as two blasts courtesy of Clampdown and Deep Cover tore their way through her chest, killing her.

“She seriously thought that Nightbeat would be alone right now?” 

Clampdown muttered. “Primus, this one was an idiot. You catch who she works for?”

“Their messages were encrypted,” his brother replied. “But I bet Glyph can crack them, given enough time.”

“Guess we’ll be the ones interrogating ol’ Viewfinder then, huh?”

“Don’t get too excited, Clampdown. It’s not supposed to be fun.”

“Didn’t plan on having fun, but okay.”

Brainstorm stepped back. “Now, Powerdive–”

“How do you–”

“We went to the same military academy before I was declared alt-mode exempt.”

“Yeah, well… you know who I am, so guess I can’t let you live.”

Powerdive suddenly lurched forward as a blast tore through his chest. He glanced down at the hole in his chest before collapsing, his body’s colors fading. Mirage stood over his body, blaster in hand.

“Beasts are one thing,” the racer growled. “But regular bots are another.”

“Dino, what the Pit?” Battleslash hissed.

“No, he’s right,” Blast noted, turning towards the others. “Come on, listen. These are bots just like us, but with extra powers. Why do the Functionists want them dead? They could use them.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t argue with the Functionists,” Roadtrap noted. “I mean, they have Zeta Prime feeding from their hands.”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” Blast noted. “I’m not sticking around for this stuff anymore. You can do it on your own time.” With that, the Seeker transformed and flew off. Mirage, too, left, leaving Battleslash, Roadtrap, and Bolts alone.

“Well, scrap this,” Battleslash muttered. “Let’s get outta here, Roadtrap.”

“Agreed.”

The two left, leaving Bolts alone. The Deployer glanced at Brainstorm and chuckled.

“‘Sup.”

It was then that the local police force arrived and arrested him.

Chromedome sighed as he stood before the Iacon police station. Memories of what he had seen flashed through his mind.

A firm squeeze of his hand courtesy of Rewind drew him back to reality. He sighed, and the couple walked up the stairs to the station.

Prowl slammed his hands onto the table, scowling. “What relation do you have to Guardian Prime’s death?”

“Woah, calm down. I agreed to share this information, pal!”

Deep Cover sighed. “Sorry, Viewfinder. That’s just Prowl for you. Not to mention Nightbeat almost got killed on his way here.”

“Is he alright?”

“He’ll survive. Cogwheel’s working on him now.”

“Back on topic,” Prowl snarled. “Viewfinder, you have sensitive information regarding the death of Guardian Prime. I recommend you share it before I take more… drastic measures.”

Deep Cover sighed. “And you wonder why Red Alert replaced you as Head of Security…”

“Now is not the time,” Prowl seethed. “Tell us now, Viewfinder.”

“Alright, sheesh,” the former officer muttered. “Fine. Zeta killed Guardian Prime.”

The two officers froze. Their optics widened.

“How dare you?” Prowl hissed. “Zeta is the Prime. Now, I’m not all into the Matrix superstitions, but I can safely say that this is treason.”

“No, Prowl, it is not treason,” Deep Cover said with a sigh. “Maybe it is to Zeta, and has been treated as such recently, but officially it is not.”

“Fine.” The officer turned back to Viewfinder. “But you’d better have some slagging good proof.”

“Oh, I have proof,” Viewfinder assured. “Gonna be a bit hard getting it out, though.”

“And why is that?”

“I’ve encoded it into my hard drive.”

“Excuse me?”

“I took the video file and uploaded it into my systems,” Viewfinder explained. “Y’know, as a way of keeping Zeta from getting to it. But it didn’t work as well as I’d hoped – he still found me and… and…”

“Sent you to the Institute?”

Prowl sighed. “Deep Cover, there is no Institute.”

“Actually, according to Cliffjumper, we’ve got someone else at the front desk saying that it’s a thing.”

Prowl groaned. “Stay with Viewfinder. I’ll go look at this.”

The head of Iacon security stormed off, leaving Deep Cover and Viewfinder behind.

Zeta Prime snarled, slamming his fist into the wall. “That idiotic assassin! We need to step up our timetable.”

“Worry not, Prime,” Guardian said with a smile. “The Headmaster augmentations were completed ahead of schedule. Your Guardian is ready.”

“Actually,” Zeta said with a smile. “To avoid confusion, I think a name change is in order.”

“So you’re saying that the Institute is real, and you… worked there?” Prowl said.

“Yes,” Chromedome confirmed. “They knew my mnemosurgeon skills were among the best on Cybertron, and recruited me by…”

He paused for a moment. “By threatening my Conjunx.”

“Okay, Domey, you did not tell me about that,” Rewind said, rushing to his partner. “I thought this was all voluntary.”

“Oh, Pit no. If it were up to me, I’d have left a long time ago.”

“So why risk it now?” Cliffjumper wondered aloud.

“The Ascenticons are rising again, Functionists is going downhill, there were reports of a hunter team going rogue – Zeta’s losing his grip,” Chromedome explained. “I just thought that maybe he wouldn’t notice – and even if he did, he would be in captivity by then. Oh, and then the records regarding some kind of manipulated medical records…”

“Of course,” Prowl said with a sigh. “Everything comes together. So it was all Zeta, this whole time. Fantastic.”

“We… are going to arrest him, right? Erm, sir.” Cliffjumper asked.

“Of course we are, Cliffjumper. And we’re going to investigate this whole Institute thing.”

“Might I join?”

The group turned to see Viewfinder and Deep Cover.

“What the Pit is he doing out of his–”

Prowl was interrupted when the ground began shaking. The force rushed to the window to see one of the Celestial Spires opening up. A massive shape emerged from it.

“Oh, Primus…” Viewfinder muttered.

“And you’re doing this on a hunch?”

“Yes, Thundercracker,” Ulchtar confirmed. “A hunch. Something is going down in Iacon, and I want to bear witness.”

“‘Course you do,” Sunstorm muttered. “And maybe get us all killed along the way. While we’re at it, are we gonna talk about the whole Swindle deal?”

“That’s confidential,” the senator of Vos stated. “No need to pry into it, Sunstorm.”

As they flew towards Prima Tower, where the resident Prime lived, it began to move away from its original position. The trio quickly assumed their robot mode and hovered, watching the strange spectacle.

“Oh, the Reversionists are gonna hate that,” Sunstorm remarked.

From underneath the tower flew a massive blue and white robot. At the end of one arm was an orange, three-fingered claw. The other ended in what looked almost like a railgun. His left shoulder and shin had red guns mounted on them. A blue protective glass covered his face. A fusion cannon was mounted on the back of his head.

The massive bot split in half, with the right side becoming a train and the left a battleship. The two vehicles immediately set course for Tarn. The three jets gawked, with Sunstorm being the only one able to muster up a reaction.

“Holy scrap.”

Chapter Text

“Sorry, Megs, but my current boss wishes to remain anonymous,” Swindle said. “Somethin’ about staying safe an’ all. But yeah, he thought some weapons would be appealing to you.”

Megatron sighed. “Weapons. Why do we need weapons?”

“I know ‘bout your revolution plan, pal,” the con artist said with a roll of his optics. “Look, just take the weapons already. I’m getting a fat load of Shanix, and I can’t be away from my place for too long.”

“I would recommend taking them, Megatron.”

Megatron looked behind him, where Soundwave stood. “And why is that, Soundwave?”

“Reports state that a massive object is headed here,” he said. “It departed from Iacon.”

“Zeta.” Megatron turned back to Swindle. “I suppose we’ll take them.”

“Great!” Swindle said with a grin. “My pals Trickdiamond and Slipstream are waiting outside with them. Meantime, I’ve gotta run. Gotta collect my payment, then there’re other deals to be made!”

As Swindle left, Megatron sighed. “Weapons. I don’t know whether to thank Swindle or scream at him.”

“Don’t think either of those are good ideas,” Impactor muttered as he entered the room. “Doesn’t need any more of his stupid ego than he already has.”

“Impactor? I know you didn’t come without reason.”

“Yeah, you may wanna come look outside. Zardak spotted something.”

Megatron followed Impactor outside, where Zardak was waiting.

“What is it, Zar–”

Megatron froze as he saw an incredible sight. A massive thing  was taking shape just outside the city. He watched as a battleship and a train came together, forming a giant robot.

“Omega Sentinel online,” it said, its booming voice echoing through Tarn’s streets. “Ready to bring the hurt to these Ascenticons!”

Megatron’s optics narrowed. “Zeta.”

:“As the attack of the giant calling himself “Omega Sentinel” escalates in Tarn, we can only wonder if–”:

Delta Magnus turned off Raindance’s feed, turning to his fellow Elite Guard members. “You see the situation, team. A massive bot calling himself Omega Sentinel has emerged in Tarn, and seems dead set on destroying the Ascenticons and, if necessary, the city.”

Meister grinned. “Well, he ain’t gonna know what hit ‘im!”

“We’re ready to roll, Magnus,” Hyperdrive reported.

“Not yet, Hyperdrive,” Magnus said. “Meister, you’re heading to wake up our big friend. He’ll transport you here and then engage the enemy. Firestar, Ricochet, Warpath, Pick-Up, Convoy, and Team Turbomaster will accompany me in confronting the giant. Aim to injure at worst. Terminate only if all other options have been exhausted. We need to know where this bot came from and who created him. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Excellent. Now, transform and roll out!”

“What the Pit is happening?!” Impactor cried as Omega Sentinel stormed into Tarn.

“It’s Zeta,” Megatron growled. “He’s responsible for this. I’m certain of it. It’s too well timed. Senator Shockwave disappeared three cycles ago, and now this?”

“What do we do?” Zarak, an Ascenticon scientist, asked.

“Simple, Zarak. We defend our home.” Megatron turned around to face those with him. “Thunderwing, Zardak, rally the Ascenticons. We stand and fight against this threat. Soundwave, get ahold of Cannonbolt’s security forces. Impactor, pick up Swindle’s shipment. Go!”

The Ascenticons split off as Megatron turned to face the approaching Omega Sentinel.

“Ascenticons shall die today!” it bellowed. “Your deceptions do not fool us. Zeta calls you Decepticons, and when you die, that name shall be ingrained into the history of Cybertron!”

Megatron sneered, deploying his mace.

“Prime?”

Zeta Prime turned as Ulchtar entered the room, followed by Sunstorm and Thundercracker.

“Senator,” he said warmly. “Welcome. I presume you saw my latest weapon?”

“What the Pit even is that thing?” the senator growled. “And why was it en route to Tarn?”

“Why are you concerned?” Zeta asked. “Tarn is not your city.”

“I want to know if that thing is going to head to Vos next!”

“Of course not,” Zeta replied. “Unless, of course, you are harboring Ascenticons.”

Ulchtar blinked. “What?”

“Omega Sentinel, as I call it, was developed to eradicate any opposition to Functionist rule – and my rule,” Zeta said, a cruel smile on his face. “As the Functionism Act, put in place by Nominus Prime, states, Functionism is the one controlling ideal of Cybertronian society. Those who are in defiance of it are subject to justice.”

“You call this justice?!” Thundercracker protested.

“Quiet, Seeker,” Zeta growled. “Or I shall put you in your place like I am that upstart Megatron.”

The blue and black Seeker fell silent.

“Now, Ulchtar, witness the birth of a new Cybertron – one we can all be proud of!”

Ulchtar’s jaw dropped in pure shock as Zeta turned back to the screen displaying the carnage in Tarn.

The door to Prima Tower flew open as Prowl forced his way in. Following behind him were Deep Cover, Clampdown, Cliffjumper, Viewfinder, Jolt, and Downshift.

“Everyone move!” Prowl shouted. “We’re here for Zeta Prime!”

The Prime Guard, consisting of Sentinel, Ironhide, Firestar, Wild Wheel, Backstreet, Dogfight, Override, Pointblank, Peacemaker, and Zetca, stepped forward.

“Prowl, what the Pit do you think yer doin’?!” Ironhide growled.

“Breaking and entering, that’s what,” Sentinel snarled. “We know about your plots against Zeta. Prime Guard, prepare to defend!”

“Cannonbolt!”

The leader of Tarn’s security forces turned as Delta Magnus and his team rushed in. “What’s your status?”

“My status is probably fragged!” Cannonbolt growled as an explosion went off nearby, vaporizing Camaro. “I’m losing bots left and right to this thing!”

“Well, let’s hope Meister gets here with our backup!” Thunderclash said as he mounted his battle platform.

“I’m with Thunderclash!” Warpath added, aiming his cannon at the giant. “BLAM! I’m all for ZAPOW-ing this guy solo, but without ol' H.M., we’re in for a real KABLAM!”

Meister grappled his way across Iacon. The Elite Guard headquarters were just up ahead. He set his sights on a large warehouse nearby.

“There ya are,” he muttered. “Let’s hope we’ve got enough Energon…”

Meister swung down to the door, a scanner beside it verifying his Elite Guard badge. The door opened, and within sat a massive white and blue jet. Meister ran over to a nearby computer and began the Energon transfer process. 

Before long, the jet hummed to life.

“Hello,” it said warmly. “And who might you be?”

“Name’s Meister, but we don’t got time for pleasantries!” the Elite Guardsbot replied. “We got a situation in Tarn. Massive bot, hurtin’ a lot of people. Think you can handle it?”

The jet scoffed. “Please. Now grab on. Just know this – no job is too great for Halonix Maximus.”

Meister grappled onto Halonix’s wing, watching as the top of the hangar opened. Halonix rose from within before blasting off in the direction of Tarn.

“The Elite Guard are involved?” Zeta hissed as he watched Halonix lift off. He quickly activated his comlink. “Guardian, whatever you do, do not open fire on the Elite Guard! They are my enforcers, and do not need to be terminated!”

:“I will do as I please, Prime.”:

“What? Guardian, what are you–”

:“I am doing what is necessary. Your Elite Guard stand in the way of a perfect Cybertron – as do you, your Autobots, and the Ascenticons.”:

“For Primus’ sake, what are you talking about?!”

Guardian laughed. :“What, Prime? Did you think I was an Autobot? No. I am an enforcer of Primus’ will – the very will you swore yourself to, and the will you betrayed when you killed your predecessor. You and your heresy shall fall, and the Reversionists shall rise to enact His will!”:

“Did you guys hear that?” Ricochet called out from the skies. “This guy was working with Zeta Prime!”

“And evidently turned,” Delta Magnus muttered. “Regardless, he must be taken down. Meister, how close are you?”

:“Tarn’s on the horizon, boss-bot,”: the Elite Guardsman replied.  :“We’ll be there in a couple o’ kilks.”:

“Understood. But please, hurry it up. We’re losing bots out here.”

Even as Magnus said this, a blast from Omega Sentinel’s railgun tore Pick-Up apart.

“I’m serious, Meister, hurry!”

:“I’m on it!”:

Suddenly, a group of Seekers flew overhead. Zardak, a large black and purple jet, was at the lead, followed closely by the Skyscorchers.

“Alright, Seekers,” Zardak said. “You know Megatron’s orders. Defend Tarn at all costs.”

“I dunno,” Wingstun muttered. “What if it’s too strong?”

“Really, Wingstun?” Nacelle groaned. “Complaining again? You oughta get an award.”

“Less talking. More blasting.”

“I’m with Space Case,” Air Hunter noted. “We face this monster down with Ascenticon honor!”

“Oh, shut up, Air Hunter,” Hooligan groaned. “Your stupid honor thing gets on my circuits.”

“Quiet, all of you!” Zardak growled. “We are taking that thing down. That is final. So quit your complaining and start shooting!”

The Seekers opened fire on the giant. Omega Sentinel was clearly affected by the blasts, but swiftly retaliated. A blast from his particle cannon blew Shadowcaster apart. Jetron, also hit by the blast, attempted to kamikaze into Omega’s face, but a blast from the railgun sent him falling to his death. 

“Zardak, we can’t take this thing!” Windrazor cried. “We gotta fall back!”

“I was built to match an army worth of your kind, Windrazor,” Zardak snarled. “We can take it!”

“We lost two in a span of five nanokliks! Think, Zardak!”

Zardak went silent for a moment. “Maybe you’re right. After all, it seems we have some big reinforcements incoming.”

“What?” Windrazor moved alongside Zardak. “What do you… oh.”

A massive silver and blue jet was making its way towards Tarn.

:“Magnus, it’s Meister. Max has arrived.”:

“Excellent work, Meister,” Delta Magnus replied. “Now meet with the security team. You, Firestar, Flash, Scorch, and Thunderclash will help evacuate civilians.”

:“On it!”:

Magnus watched as Meister grappled off of Halonix Maximus’ wing and swung away. Halonix, meanwhile, shifted into his robot mode, landing behind Omega Sentinel and drawing his blade.

“Now, villain, you stand between Cybertron and peace,” the Gigantion growled. “Stand down or be destroyed.”

“Stand down to the likes of you?” Omega chuckled. “How amusing. You may have bested Abominus during the war, but I am another thing entirely. Abominus was a rage-fueled monster; I am a calculating scientist and strategist, not to mention the enforcer of Primus’ will. You cannot stop me.”

“We shall see,” Halonix growled. He raised his sword… and charged.

“Slag!” Zeta Prime shouted. “Of course Guardian is a Reversionist extremist! Because something hasn’t gone wrong in the last groon!”

The Prime took a deep breath. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Guardian will destroy the Ascenticons, and when he comes for me, I’ll unleash the full force of Iacon security, the Prime Guard, and the Elite Guard on him. He won’t stand a chance.”

Ulchtar and his guards watched on silently. The senator clenched his fist.

“Why, Prowl?” Sentinel growled as he tossed the police-bot. “Why do you want to overthrow Zeta?”

“And who told you that?”

“Zeta!”

Prowl sighed. “Of course. Listen, Sentinel, we have a warrant for Zeta Prime’s arrest.”

Sentinel paused. “What?”

“For accusations of brainwashing, fraud, and homicide.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, that investigation you ordered?” Viewfinder said, stepping forward. “It was Zeta who killed Guardian Prime. He nursed a vial of corrodia gravis until it reached the proper stage, then deployed it onto Prime. I have the footage and everything.”

“So we’re here to bring him in,” Prowl finished. “So if you’ll step aside…”

“I’m joining.”

Prowl blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I want answers, so I’m coming with you,” Sentinel repeated. “Ironhide, you and the rest of the Guard stay here. Keep an optic open for any interference.

“On it, sir.”

“Alright, Prowl,” Sentinel said, turning to the head of Iaconian security. “Lead the way.”

“Prime.”

Zeta didn’t respond. 

“Zeta.”

“What do you want, Senator?”

“Please, sir, it’s important.”

Zeta sighed as he turned around. “What is it, Ul–”

Zeta screamed in agony as two laser blasts tore into his chest. 

Two more sent him sprawling to the ground. Ulchtar stood above him, his wrist cannons smoking.

“I’m sorry, Prime,” Ulchtar muttered. “But I can’t let you simply  destroy an entire city for nothing other than some petty grudge. Besides, if I didn’t intervene, that would look fairly bad for me, wouldn’t it? The Senator of Vos, standing alongside Zeta Prime as he let his entire race get genocided by one of their own? Please.”

Ulchtar rose. “Thundercracker, Sunstorm, prepare to leave,” he ordered. “We must–”

“Security, open up!”

Ulchtar paused, whipping around to face the door as it burst open. 

Prowl, Sentinel, and a number of security operatives poured in. They froze at the sight of Zeta on the floor.

“Now, Sentinel, if you’ll just let me explain–”

“Take him!” the leader of the Prime Guard shouted. Ulchtar quickly assumed his jet mode, blasting open the wall and flying out, followed closely by Thundercracker and Sunstorm.

“He got away!” Sentinel growled. He quickly activated his comlink. “Ironhide, get all fliers out there now! Find Ulchtar and bring him in.”

:“Yes, sir!”:

“S-Sentinel…”

Sentinel whipped around to see Zeta looking up at him. He knelt down next to the fallen Prime.

“Prime…”

“I… have selected you… as the next bearer,” Zeta muttered. “Take the Matrix… lead our people to… salvation…”

“Zeta… did you kill Guardian Prime?”

Zeta’s optics widened. “How…?”

A clicking sound indicated the Prime’s conversion cog grinding to a halt. A mechanical whine was heard, lowering in volume as Zeta’s systems powered down for the final time.

Zeta’s chest opened, and within sat the legendary Matrix. Sentinel picked it up, Zeta’s body turning gray as soon as the talisman was removed. A bright light engulfed Sentinel and blinded everyone in the room as he became its next bearer.

Megatron helped pull a purple and black miner out of the rubble. He quickly ushered him away as Omega Sentinel stepped right where he had been trapped.

“How do we stop him?” Megatron growled, glancing at Delta Magnus.

“I… I don’t…”

:“Magnus! Are you there?”:

Magnus’ optics widened as he responded to the call. “Prowl? What’s going on?”

:“Chromedome was going through Zeta’s old files when we found schematics for this “Omega Sentinel”. It seems his head is the controller. The rest of his body is merely what Guardian calls a “transtector” – and if my intel is right, Guardian is the one controlling him.”:

“I’ll inform Halonix,” Magnus responded,quickly changing channels. “Halonix, we have a–”

Suddenly, a stray railgun shot tore into Delta Magnus’ chest. The leader of the Elite Guard collapsed. 

“Get a medic over here!” Megatron shouted. As First Aid drove over, Megatron assumed his tank mode and drove off.

“Hurry it up, now,” Meister said as he ushered several civilians to safety. “We don’t got much time!”

The sound of tank treads rolling closer attracted Meister’s attention. He turned around as Megatron rolled up to him.

“‘Ey, Megatron,” he said jovially. “Ain’t you s’posed to be evacuatin’ people from the fight?”

“I have a way to stop the fight.”

Meister paused. “Do tell.”

“Magnus was going to tell your big friend, but he got impaled by a railgun first. His body isn’t alive – just his head. It’s actually the engineer Guardian. Take the head off, and Sentinel comes apart.”

“I’ll tell Halonix,” Meister assured. “Get back to your job.”

As Megatron rolled off, Meister activated his comlink. “Halonix, ya hear me?”

An orange claw slammed into Halonix Maximus’ midsection, sending him stumbling back. The Gigantion brushed a bit of Energon from his mouth.

The battle with Omega Sentinel was going more poorly than he’d hoped. This strange Guardian Sentinel knockoff was performing extremely efficiently. Halonix worried that perhaps he may not be well suited to this particular fight.

:“Halonix, ya hear me?”:

“Yes, Meister?” Halonix grunted as he recovered. “I am having some trouble at the moment.”

:“I can tell. But I got a bit o’ info on our big bad here. His body  doesn’t feel any pain because it’s not alive. It’s some sort of piloted suit, like what the Thraal had back durin’ the Na’condian exodus. A transtector, Guardian called it. But yeah, the real bad is the head. Take that off an’ he comes right down!”:

“Understood,” Halonix said, grabbing Omega and pulling him close. “Decapitating now.”

“Now, wait just a–”

Omega Sentinel cried out as Halonix grabbed his head and yanked it off. He dropped Guardian to the ground and raised his sword, bringing it down onto the Omega Sentinel transtector, cleaving it in two lengthways. The remains of Omega Sentinel fell to the ground, its threat ended.

Guardian returned to his robot mode and rose. Several shapes emerged from the dust of his destroyed transtector crashing to the ground – Megatron, followed by Zardak and Soundwave. As Megatron slowly approached him, he knelt down and picked up Guardian’s fusion cannon, attaching it to his arm with Brainstorm’s C.O.M.B.A.T. interlocking system developed during the Terrorcon War.

“Now, Megatron, listen–”

“You threaten my city…”

Megatron stopped in front of Guardian, standing above him, his red optics boring into his spark.

“You attack my followers…”

He aimed the cannon directly at Guardian’s head. The engineer scrambled back, his hand landing on the pistol of a fallen warrior. He clutched it and hid it behind his back.

“Now, please, Megatron, have a bit of mercy!”

Megatron frowned. “You, who are without mercy, now plead for it? I thought you were made of sterner stuff.”

“Megatron–”

Guardian’s final words were cut off when Megatron fired the fusion cannon just as the engineer pulled the pistol from behind his back, completely destroying his head. His corpse fell to the ground, its color fading as his spark, now lacking the necessary connection to his now-vaporized brain module, went out.

Megatron and his fellow Ascenticons departed, leaving Guardian’s body to be found by Cannonbolt’s security team.

“How go the cleanup efforts?”

“Eh,” Grapple replied. “Could be better, but Scrapper’s team is still off-world for now. I hope it’s not too much trouble, Prime.”

Sentinel Prime sighed. His taking on the Matrix had resulted in his reformatting. He still sported his original blue and orange color scheme, but he was now significantly larger than before, sporting both an armored transport mode and a spacecraft mode.

“Of course not, Grapple,” Sentinel said with a smile. “And I’ve sent for Scrapper to return from Mayalx. With their project complete, their work on Cybertron takes priority.”

“I do want to get back to my patients soon,” Hoist added. “But I did need to inform you that Delta Magnus will survive. His injuries are severe, but treatable. I just need to get back to my station first.”

“Go, then.”

Hoist was out of the door quickly. Sentinel sighed. “Primus spare us from the sassy ones,” he muttered.

“Hoist is just concerned about his patients,” Grapple noted. “He gets like that if they’re kept waiting too long. His dedication is… admirable , to say the least.”

“I’m sure,” Ironhide muttered from the doorway, a grin on his face. “Anyways, Prime, you might wanna see this.”

“They attack our home! They take our lives! And now, they put Zeta’s lackey Sentinel in charge! Who says things have changed?”

Megatron’s speech stirred up the crowd before him. They cheered, hanging onto his every word.

“Zeta called us Decepticons. He claimed we spread lies and deceit. Well, I say that Cybertron has been deceived by the lies of the Functionist Council! He calls our truth “deceit”, and many ask what I have to say. I say that if the truth is “deceit”, then we will gladly spread it. Zeta called us Decepticons as an insult, but we shall embrace it! Listen well, Cybertron – you are being deceived by those above you. Stand up to our oppressors! Show them that you are not afraid!”

Megatron smiled as he walked backstage, where Soundwave waited.

“Well?”

“Broadcast sent across usable signals,” Soundwave reported. “Several hundred outside of present crowd tuned in.”

“Excellent.”

“Excellent indeed.”

Megatron turned as a figure stepped out of the shadows. He was a red, blue, and gray Seeker, a sly smile on his face. To most, he was unrecognizable – but to those who knew of his body change, he was the same bot he was before.

“Ulchtar,” Megatron said with a smile. “I see you chose the Seeker body-type.”

“Close enough to my original body to feel like me, and distant enough to not be recognized,” the former senator said with a grin. “Of course, it’s not really hiding unless a name change comes with it.”

“Oh? And what would you like to be called?”

Ulchtar thought for a moment, then smiled. “You can call me... Starscream.”

Sentinel sighed as Megatron’s speech came to an end. “This is going to be a problem.”

“You gonna do what Zeta did?” Ironhide asked. “I don’t wanna have to turn on another Prime.”

“Of course not, Ironhide,” Sentinel replied. “The Ascenti – er, the Decepticons are a political faction, too, just like the Autobots. We must let them voice their concerns, even if we do not agree completely.”

“What about the Reversionists?”

“Heretech has completely denounced Guardian for his actions. He was acting on his own accord, separate from his fellow Reversionists. The engineer was simply delusional.”

“Pretty sure they’re all delusional,” Ironhide muttered.

:“Sentinel Prime, sir.”:

Sentinel turned to see a hologram of Prowl on his desk. “Yes, Prowl?”

:“We found the Institute. And… something else.”:

“What? What is it?”

Prowl, with Chromedome and Deep Cover at his side, gazed up at the purple bot before them. He looked nearly identical to his original appearance, save on crucial detail – his head, now a hexagonal shape with a single yellow optic where his face should be.

“I think it’s Senator Shockwave.”

Orion Pax shut off the datapad as Megatron’s speech finished. 

The former gladiator’s words struck true, in his opinion. The Functionists wanted them to conform, and with the Functionism Act in effect at the moment, he knew there was no stopping them. Of course, it would be difficult to reach new bots with Megatron’s limited datanet presence.

Then, he had an idea. He went into one of the Decepticons’ special frequencies he had memorized while working in the Hall of Records. He quickly called it.

Soundwave’s image appeared once he’d gotten through. “Who is this?”

“My name is Orion Pax,” the archivist replied. “And I’d like to speak to Megatron.”

Chapter Text

Megatron stepped out of the recording room that Viewfinder had helped set up. He stopped next to Soundwave.

“Well?”

“Speech played across 113 different channels. Millions are now hearing the message.”

Megatron smiled. “And we owe it to our new friend. Speaking of which, I must go and thank him for his assistance in spreading our message. Soundwave, stay here and monitor the channels.”

“Of course, Megatron.”

As Megatron walked down the passageways of Tarn’s senatorial tower, he reminisced over the last few decacycles. 

After the fall of Omega Sentinel and the death of Guardian, the newly-rebranded Decepticons had grown rapidly. Shockwave, now a servant of pure logic following the removal of his emotions by Zeta’s mnemosurgeons, resigned from the Senate to pursue more scientific measures. Megatron had been almost unanimously elected Tarn’s new senator, and with some help from his new friend, his message spread. Hundreds sided with the Decepticons. Megatron was still unable to contact Termagax, however. Perhaps that was for the better.

Megatron reached his quarters, closing the door behind him. He picked up a nearby tablet and quickly called up his new friend. It wasn’t long before he answer.

:“Megatron,”: the red and blue truck said warmly. :“I saw your message. It seems to have reached many more.”:

“All thanks to you, Orion Pax.”

:“Had you not provided us with more channels, we would not have been able to spread our message.”:

Orion chuckled. “I’m sure your rise to the senator position helped as well.”

:“Most of the praise goes to you, friend,”: Megatron insisted. :“Never turn down praise. You’re only setting yourself up for low expectations of yourself and, ultimately, failure.”:

“I did notice there were some… choice words you had regarding Sentinel Prime. Perhaps you could be a bit less… aggressive?”

Megatron sighed. :“Yes, I apologize. Some… personal feelings regarding Sentinel slipped their way in.”:

“Personal? Did Sentinel hurt you?”

The Tarn senator paused. :“I’d… rather not talk about it.”:

Orion paused at the break in Megatron’s voice. A brief moment of weakness. The former gladiator was hurting. Orion wanted to help, but he knew that Megatron might not want help.

He decided to try anyways.

“I know a psychiatrist named Ring.” He paused for a moment. “No, it’s Rung. He works very well with patients – he helped my friend Damus following Zeta’s... work on him. So if you ever need anything, just give me a call, and I can set up a session or… just talk.”

Megatron was silent for a few moments.

:“Thank you, Orion.”:

Megatron ended the call. Orion sat back and sighed.

“Talking to your friend again?”

Orion jumped, turning around to see Alpha Trion watching from the doorway.

“How long were you listening?”

“Long enough to know that you are truly one of a kind, Pax,” Trion said with a smile. “Willing to help anyone in need, even if you only met them recently.”

“Megatron is striving for what is right,” Orion stated. “He knows what the people need.”

“And what would that be?”

Orion paused for a few moments, his optics lost in thought.

“Freedom,” he finally replied. “The freedom to do as we choose. It is as Guardian Prime once said – freedom is the right of all sentient beings.”

Alpha Trion smiled. “Of course, Pax. But… do you not wonder if perhaps Megatron may not be the best choice for a friend?”

Orion paused, but only for a moment. “Megatron may have some less than ideal qualities, and some sort of personal vendetta against Sentinel, but I know he can bring the change Cybertron needs.”

Trion sighed. “I envy your optimism, Orion. Perhaps you are right. I suppose we shall wait and see.”

“And you say you remember nothing aside from your name?”

Cordon nodded. “Yes. I’m… not sure of anything regarding my past. I feel like something… important is in here.”

He tapped his head.

“But…”

Rung sighed. “Alright, Cordon. During Flatline’s medical scan, some sort of energy was detected within you. Whatever the source, you seem extremely protective of it. Care to elaborate?”

Cordon froze for a moment, then blinked. “I’m sorry. What was the question?”

Rung’s eyebrows furrowed. “You have some sort of energy in your body. What do you know about it?”

Cordon froze again. Blinked again. “I’m sorry. What was the question?”

Rung sighed. “Cordon, do not feign even more amnesia to dodge the question. Please just tell me the truth. I won’t tell anyone – my terms of service prevent me from divulging anything unless either it is absolutely necessary or I have your explicit permission.”

Cordon scratched the side of his head. “Um… what? You haven’t even asked the question yet. I’m not feigning amnesia, I think. What’s amnesia, again?”

Rung paused. Could it be that there was some sort of program in Cordon that erased his memory whenever the energy source was mentioned. Who would have been desperate enough to hide it inside a bot and make it so that he cannot acknowledge that it exists?

“I cannot believe this…” he muttered.

“I cannot believe this!”

Meister chuckled as he walked through Elite Guard headquarters alongside his blue and orange friend. “Calm your diodes, Dion. I saw you in action when those Insecticons attacked. Put in a good word with Magnus – so yeah, welcome to the Guard.”

“Am I going to meet him?”

“Nah, not today. Right now, you’re gonna get some trainin’ from our boot camp instructor. Best you make pals with your fellow trainees. Not all of ‘em are makin’ it in.”

The two stopped in front of a silver door, embroidered with the Elite Guard symbol.

“This is the training field. Just go in and meet your new pals.” Meister waved as he turned. “See ya, pal!”

Dion watched as his friend departed, then turned towards the door. He presented his Elite Guard trainee badge and watched as it slid open.

Within were five other ‘bots – two Seekers, one red and green and one blue and yellow, a green and orange plow truck, a smaller red car, and a black and yellow jet.

“So…” Dion began, walking in. “Who are you guys?”

The blue and yellow Seeker rolled his optics. “Great, a talkative one. You’re gonna love him, Landshark.”

The plow growled. “Watch your tone with me, Windsail. I may have been a delivery guy, but I can still pack a punch!”

The red car snorted. “Yeah, keep thinkin’ you’re some big shot ‘cause you got recommended by Thunderclash. Some of us have actual experience. Mind you, I helped bring Zeta Prime down.”

“You really wanna push it, Cliffjumper?”

Cliffjumper grinned. “Maybe. You think you’re ready to go?”

“Oh, I’m–”

“Going to stop this instant.”

The trainees froze as a dark green and gray Elite Guard commander entered. His face remained stoic. Yellow highlights decorated his body. He stood tall above most Cybertronians – not quite Gigantion height, but about halfway there, which was a feat in and of itself. And that wasn’t even accounting for the twin cannons that protruded from his bac and above his head.

“Dion. Clear Out. Windsail. Landshark. Cliffjumper. Nightcruz.” The commander looked them over. “I am Bombshock, one of the commanders of the Elite Guard you aspire to be a part of. I’m going to put you through our boot camp and teach you what it means to be a part of the Elite Guard. Not everyone makes it through this training.”

Windsail raised his hand.

“No, Windsail, I do not mean they die.”

Windsail lowered his hand.

“I hope you’re ready for the most intense training regime of your life,” Bombshock said. “You’re joining the best of the best. So don’t think this is gonna be a walk in the park.”

“Hoo, boy.”

“Who said that?”

Vortex groaned as he sat down. “Look, Onslaught, we ain’t makin’ any money anymore! Ulchtar’s gone to ground, and we’re wanted bots. How are we gonna get any jobs now?”

“Yeah, I miss the war,” Brawl muttered. “Back when we used to blow stuff up. It was fun.”

“‘Course, Swindle was on the team, then,” Vortex pointed out. “Now he’s runnin’ his own business. Mighty successful, too. I’d suggest workin’ there, but I know Onslaught values his pride and dignity.”

“I’ve been looking around,” Onslaught assured. “It’s a bit hard, thanks to our previous employer murdering Prime, even if he did have it coming.”

“No luck, then?” Blast Off asked as he approached the others.

“Look who’s finally back!” Vortex joked. “Have fun with your Autobot boyfriend?”

Blast Off’s face flushed blue. “A-Actually... yes, Vortex, I-I did.”

“I might have a job for you.”

The four turned as someone emerged from the shadows. It was a red, gray, and blue Seeker.

“And who’re you?” Vortex asked.

“Call me Starscream,” the Seeker said, a smirk on his face. “And I’m here to–”

“You think I’m an idiot?” Onslaught growled. “I see right through you. Your grating voice is recognizable anywhere. What’s your game, Ulchtar?”

“Please, just use Starscream. And I’m serious, I have an offer for you. One that, if you help us with it, you will never need to take another job again.”

Onslaught glanced back at his team for a moment, then back at Starscream. “Alright, Starscream. What is this job?”

Starscream grinned. “Tell me, Onslaught. What are your thoughts on our current rulers?”

“Shockwave?”

Shockwave paused his work, turning to face Jhiaxus, his sole yellow optic gazing coldly at his mentor.

“Senator Jhiaxus. How did you get here?”

“You… gave me the codes to your laboratory. Remember?”

Shockwave paused for a moment. “Ah. Yes. I suppose I did. What are you doing here?”

“I just… wanted to check up on you,” Jhiaxus replied. “Make sure you’re okay after… all the stuff with Zeta.”

“I am perfectly recovered,” Shockwave noted. “Your trip was a waste of Energon and time. You could have merely sent a message.”

“I have been!” Jhiaxus stepped up to his student. “You haven’t responded to any of them.”

“Ah. I suppose I have neglected my communications for some time. Nevertheless.”

Jhiaxus sighed. “You said you’d recovered. Yet… you still bear the marks of empurata.” He gestured to Shockwave’s new head. “Why?”

“My face was not the only thing Zeta’s lackeys took,” Shockwave replied. “I also have lost the ability to feel . Thus, the effort of getting a new face, which is designed to convey emotion, is wasted on one without any.”

“I…” Jhiaxus paused for a moment. “If Zeta had finished his work with you… would you have helped with his plans?”

“Of course not. My primary directive is the protection of Cybertron. Zeta’s plans threatened my own. And I assure you, Jhiaxus, all that I do is in the name of our planet’s best interest.”

“That’s what Zeta said…”

“Yes, but he was selfish. Vain. I am neither. If I must give my life for our world, then I shall. I have even allied with Megatron.”

Jhiaxus blinked. “You’re a Decepticon?”

“No. I am allied with them. Their interests align with mine. Should they threaten Cybertron’s safety, I shall turn on them without a second thought.”

Jhiaxus sighed. “You and I both, Shockwave. But I am certain that Megatron is serving the same cause you are, through and through.”

After a moment, Jhiaxus departed, leaving Shockwave alone in his lab to continue his work.

“I don’t know about this, Onslaught,” Blast Off muttered. “I mean, I’m all for what the Decepticons stand for, but…”

“You’re worried about Cosmos, aren’t you?”

Blast Off nodded meekly. “Don’t get me wrong, you guys are great, but… Cosmos is the one bot I can’t live without. I don’t feel alone with him.”

Onslaught sighed. “Primus, I can’t believe I’m doing this… Starscream offered me a high place in the ranks should this whole revolution thing get off the ground. I’ll use my influence to ensure that Cosmos stays out of harm’s way. Any and all Decepticons will be forbidden from harming him.”

Blast Off smiled. “Thank you, Onslaught.”

Onslaught huffed. “Keeps you on the team. We wouldn’t have pulled off the Battle of Yuss without you, so call it repaying a debt.”

“Hey, Onslaught!” Vortex called out. “Apparently Megatron’s ready to talk!”

Onslaught nodded. “Then let’s not keep him waiting.” He walked forward, the four Combaticons following behind them, as they entered the Tarn senatorial tower.

“HOW’S YOUR NEW HEAD TREATING YOU, NIGHTBEAT?!”

“Primus, Siren, inside voice, please.”

“SORRY.”

Nightbeat rubbed his temple, his visor creasing. The inhabitants of the Sonic Canyons were generally grating, with their loud, echoing voices, but Siren added a whole new level to that by being somewhat annoying as well. Even so, he could be surprisingly nice, and was a good friend of Nightbeat’s.

“Anyways, it’s working fine,” Nightbeat replied. “But right now I’ve got a bigger thing to worry about than my new head.”

“OH?”

“Finding Frenzy, the bot who set Quake loose in Tarn.”

“THE SECURITY BLOKES STILL HAVEN’T FOUND HIM?!”

“Siren…”

“RIGHT. INSIDE VOICE. SORRY.”

Elita-1 gazed at the piece of glass in her hands. She sighed, a tone of sorrow embedded within.

“Elita?”

The familiar voice of her new significant other made her freeze. She quickly set the glass behind her. “Come in!”

The door opened, and in walked Orion Pax. He smiled as he sat next to her.

“It’s been awhile, Pax,” she teased.

“Yes, I’ve been helping Megatron with his message.”

“And you don’t think he’s dangerous?”

Orion paused for a moment. “A bit reckless? Yes. Prey to his own emotions? Yes. But dangerous to Cybertron? No. He merely seeks to change it for the better, and he’s kept it up for far too long for it to be a mere cover like Zeta or Scorponok. But you don’t sound too happy, so 

that takes priority. What’s wrong?”

Elita paused for a moment, then sighed. “You’re a post-war forging, so you wouldn’t know, but…” 

She reached behind her and brought the glass around. Orion’s optics widened.

“That’s… Forever Glass.”

“Yes.”

Orion looked at the image on it. It had Elita-1 and three other ‘bots – two male, one female.

“Who are they?”

“My siblings,” Elita said, a small smile on her face. “There’s Straxus, a miner. Always stoic and serious, and hated almost everyone around him. Remarkably brilliant, though. Not Perceptor or Exarchon levels, but up there. Next to him is Arcee – though she doesn’t look like this anymore. Reformatted herself into a new body shortly before the rise of the Functionists. And then… Chromia. My other sister. I didn’t know her very well…”

“What happened?”

“The four of us were forged in the final days of the Age of Expansion. We were still young – I was called Ariel then. Chromia was the first of us to name herself, though. From what I remember, she was always impulsive.”

“Our mentor, Dixter, took us to Caminus once. We found some Forever Glass, made this picture. Then the Rust Plague came. As it spread across the colonies, the space bridge shutdown was announced. We tried to make it back, but… the bridge closed before Chromia made it through. I don’t know if the rust got her or if she’s still out there somewhere, but I haven’t seen her since.”

“Elita…”

“I still have contact with Arcee, and Straxus is as reclusive as ever, but Chromia…”

She trailed off.

“She may still be alive, Elita,” Orion said quietly. “Don’t give up hope. Never give up hope.”

Elita smiled. “Thank you, Orion.”

“Anytime.”

Chapter Text

“So the Combaticons have joined Megatron’s ranks.”

“Affirmative.”

Ratbat sighed. “I fear this may be getting out of hand. People are taking sides. War is brewing. And we just got out of one, too. I fear these Decepticons are doomed to fail.”

He turned back to his agent. “Soundwave, ensure that their fall will give us reasonable profit. Then, take them down from the inside. Dig up some dirt on them. When they collapse, we will get the glory and profit all for ourselves.”

Soundwave paused. “I… do not believe the Decepticons will fail.”

Ratbat paused. “Excuse me?”

“I have studied Megatron and his followers. He has the drive to convince the Senate to listen to his demands. He may yet succeed.”

Ratbat thought for a moment. “Very well. You are head of intelligence for a reason. However, if this gets out of hand and our potential profit is lost, it falls on your head, and there will be no place you cannot be found.”

“...Affirmative.”

“Get back to it, then,” Ratbat said, turning and walking towards his desk. “Do your duty.”

“Yes, Senator.”

Soundwave turned, leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. As he continued, he received a message.

:“Soundwave, it’s Megatron. Howlback and Garboil have managed to locate a potential ally. I leave it to you and a team of your choice to see to his recruitment.”:

“At once, Megatron,” Soundwave replied, deactivating the link. He continued on his way, his faceplate, yellow visor, and emotionless facade hiding a tumultuous conflict within.

“Alright, recruits, welcome to the Decepticon Guard!”

“I’d rather be literally anywhere than be doing this,” a blue and black hatchback grumbled.

“Oh, c’mon, Crankcase!” a yellow and purple pickup nudged his fellow Primal Vanguard survivor. “Cheer up a bit! We get to shoot things!”

“I don’t get why we need a guard,” a magenta and violet Seeker muttered. “We’re supposed to be spreading peace.”

“Are you a bolthead?” a purple van growled. “Did you not see what Zeta unleashed? And that’s just one bot with a rebellious scientist! Imagine if we had a whole organized attempt made on the Decepticons.”

“Everyone just shut up!”

Everyone paused and glanced up at the gray and black helicopter Decepticon hovering before them.

“My name is Blackout,” he said. “I’m here to teach you how to fight, in the name of the Decepticons. Now, Warmonger, Ruckus, Crankcase, Windsweeper, Skytread, Hotwire, you have been selected to join Megatron’s personal guard. Of course, you must be ready to face any threat. So…”

Blackout pressed a button on a remote. Several training weapons emerged.

“You’re going to be training on each other! Don’t worry, weapons are set to stun.”

Warmonger stiffened as he gazed at the weapon before him. This was not going to be fun.

Soundwave flew through the air, high above the buildings of Kalis. The city was full of people – a far cry from its state back when Black Shadow had run the place. 

“What’re we doin’ here, Soundwave?” Needlenose asked, flying next to the head of intelligence. “I mean, sure, Kalis is a lot prettier than it was after the war…”

“That’s not saying much…” Brunt muttered.

“...but it’s still the Pit here. What are we looking for exactly?”

“The former center of Black Shadow’s defunct empire,” Soundwave replied. “Megatron wishes to recruit its… new occupant.”

Charger huffed. “So we ain’t burnin’ anything?”

“Negative.”

“Then why the actual Pit am I here?!”

“Security measure. In case his allies get… triggerhappy.”

“He’s not here, is he?” Brunt asked. “Soundwave, I swear to Primus, if Triggerhappy is the guy, or working for the guy, I’m going to kill you, him, and then myself.”

“It is not Triggerhappy. And I am fairly certain that he is not involved.”

“Oh, that’s comforting.”

“Silence. We have arrived.”

Soundwave assumed his robot mode and landed on the ground, followed by Needlenose. Brunt and Charger rolled up and assumed their robot modes.

“Guess I’m just glad you went back on bringing Mindwipe,” Brunt muttered. “That ex-Terrorcon is creepy.”

“More like crazy,” Needlenose noted. “He thinks he can speak to the dead. Wants to talk to the Thirteen.”

“Enough,” Soundwave interrupted. “Laserbeak, eject. Operation: system bypass.”

The flier’s chest opened up, and a red data disc emerged, quickly turning into a red and black bird. Laserbeak flew up to a hidden access panel and used his laser to cut wires with remarkable precision. Before long, a hidden door opened, and Laserbeak flew back over to Soundwave.

“Remain here,” Soundwave ordered. “Rumble, eject. Operation: lookout.”

A red and black disc emerged from Soundwave’s compartment and assumed his robot mode.

“Oh, c’mon, lookout ?” Rumble complained. “Why can’t Frenzy do it?”

“You know very well why.”

“Pfft. Fine .” Rumble crossed his arms.

“How do you do that…?” Charger muttered, gazing down at the Deployer.

“Charger, remain with Rumble. Laserbeak, ensure they do not get into trouble.”

“You got it, Soundwave,” the bird replied. “Y’hear that, Rumble? I’m in charge now.”

Rumble muttered something under his breath about Insecticon spawn.

“So… what’s the deal with Triggerhappy?” Needlenose whispered, leaning over to Brunt.

“Oh, yeah, yer a post-war forging,” Brunt muttered back. “Triggerhappy wasn’t his original name. Don’t remember it myself. He started being called that after he went off his rocker during the war. Like, less sanity than Charger.”

“I heard that!”

“He started shooting everything in sight, including his own allies. Guardian Prime had him sent off-world in a stasis pod for everyone’s safety. I was one of those hit during his last rampage, and the only survivor of the bunch. Trust me, you don’t know fear if you haven’t seen Triggerhappy in action.”

“Quiet.” The two paused as Soundwave looked over them. “It is time to meet with the Mastermind.”

“Mastermind?” Needlenose stepped back. “You mean the very Mastermind behind the dozens of mysterious crimes and disappearances? The one who was able to steal from the Iacon Bank without a trace?”

“Affirmative.”

“C’mon, Needlenose, have a little courage,” Brunt teased. “Yer a jet, not some wimpy camera.”

Needlenose shivered as he followed Soundwave and Brunt through the doorway and into darkness.

Skywarp groaned. “Ugh, I’m bored.”

“And? We’re stuck here ‘til Megatron gets his whole plan off the ground,” Sunstorm muttered. “Whatever it is, it had better be worth all this nothing.”

“Can you two stop complaining?” Thundercracker asked. “I’m trying to read Crosscut’s latest work!”

“Can you just get your head out of those novel things? We have to be ready for the big plan Megatron’s working on.”

“Because, unlike you, Sunstorm, I rather enjoy my downtime.”

“Isn’t Crosscut a member of the Senate?”

“I thought he was with us.”

“Different Crosscut, Skywarp,” Thundercracker replied. “Yes, this is the senator. And no, I do not support the Senate. A lot of the things he puts in these stories actually reflect the real-life state of Cybertronian society, to the point where he’s practically–”

“Nobody asked, Thundercracker,” Sunstorm muttered.

“I personally think you two should spend more time reading.”

The three Seekers froze at the commanding voice. They looked back at the doorway to see a blue and silver flier standing there, a smile on his face. He was well-known for his tactical and scientific genius during the war, his combat skills honed against experienced warriors such as Star Saber and Dezarus.

“Th-Thunderwing!” Sunstorm said, quickly standing at attention. Thundercracker followed suit, but Skywarp just scoffed. “This guy again?” he muttered. “How many times am I gonna run into you?”

“Many, now that we both serve the same cause,” Thunderwing replied, walking up to Thundercracker. “I must say, you have a remarkable taste in stories, Thundercracker. Crosscut’s work is sublime. Its metatextual messages are truly inspiring. They were what actually convinced me to side with the Decepticons.”

He glanced over at Sunstorm and Skywarp, frowning. “However, I do not want to see any more teasing of your fellow Seeker simply because he likes something you do not. It is not the kind of behavior we need if the plan is to get off the ground. Understood?”

“Y-Yes, sir!”

“Pfft. Pushover.”

Thunderwing’s optics narrowed. “You being here is a privilege, Skywarp. One many would be glad to take away.”

“Alright, fine, I’ll behave.” Skywarp rolled his optics. “Sheesh. Still bet I can take most of ‘em, though. Wasn’t one of the Skyraider leaders for nothing.”

“Certainly wasn’t your brains,” Sunstorm muttered.

“What was that?”

“You heard me, Skywarp.”

“I oughta–”

“Remember,” Thunderwing growled. “I’m keeping an optic on you two. I swear, all you war-forged Seekers are messed up in the head. First Hooligan, then Sandstorm, now you two…”

“You’d get along well with Darkbrush,” Skywarp noted. “Shame SCRASH got rid of ‘im when he got rebellious.”

Thunderwing sighed. “Just leave Thundercracker alone. Let him enjoy the peace while it lasts.” With that, the general turned and walked away.

“Welp, I’m goin’ out before Zardak inevitably calls us up again.” Skywarp stretched. “Have fun, you two!”

He warped away in a flash of purple light. Thundercracker sighed, sitting down and picking his datapad back up. Sunstorm huffed, turning and leaving the room, finally giving Thundercracker his peace and quiet.

“Soundwave, is it?”

“Affirmative.”

Visper nodded. “Right. You’re with Megatron, right? The boss has been expecting you.”

“We’re expected?” Needlenose muttered. “Oh, this is not good.”

“Put a can in it, Needlenose,” Brunt growled. “It ain’t Megawing, ain’t Gigatron, ain’t Skyquake, and ain’t SCRASH, so we’re good.”

“How do you know it’s not Gigatron and Megawing?”

“For Primus’ sake, Needlenose, they’ve been banished. Exiled. Two of SCRASH’s most dangerous warlords aren’t going to be allowed to roam free on Cybertron.”

“I assure you, SCRASH is not involved in any way, nor are his overlords,” Soundwave stated as they followed Visper and his security team through the hallways of the hideout. “Subject turned on Scorponok shortly before the Siege of Tarn.”

Brunt paused. “Wait, you don’t mean–”

“Greetings!”

The trio of Decepticons stopped. Sitting at a desk before them was a white and pink beast-mode Cybertronian. A grin spread across his blue face, his matching blue visor glinting. At his side stood a trio of Seekers – one green, one blue, and one yellow.

“Soundwave. Heard you’re head of intelligence now. Congrats!”

“Sparkstalker.”

“You have got to be fragging kidding me,” Brunt deadpanned. “Recruiting Sparkstalker, I can get behind. He’s smart and cunning. But he comes with those three?” He gestured at the Seekers. “Nuh-uh. No-hoooo way.”

“And… who are they?”

“Are you that much of an idiot, Needlenose?”

Needlenose put his hands up in defense. “Hey, I can’t tell one Seeker apart from another.”

“Your friend seems afraid of my Rainmakers,” Sparkstalker noted. “Good. He should be.”

“Wait. Rainmakers?” Needlenose muttered. “Weren’t they SCRASH’s personal enforcers during the war?”

“Yep,” Brunt replied. “And now they’re workin’ for one of the biggest criminals on Cybertron. Typical.”

“Don’t worry. They’re not looking to restart the war. And I am not looking to take part in a new one. I know why you’re here, and the answer is no. I will not be partaking in your uprising.”

“What if I offered you a chance at not having to hide?”

Sparkstalker sighed. “Look, Soundwave, I appreciate the offer, but I’m good here. I’m willing to join should something go wrong, or should your forces be winning, but it’s a bit early to be hedging my bets, don’t you agree? Now, Acid Storm, Nova Storm, Ion Storm, if you would please show my guests to the door?”

The three Seekers directed the Decepticons out. Soundwave briefly glanced back at Sparkstalker, who waved goodbye as the door to his office shut.

“You see what I see, Horsepower?”

“That I do, Fastback,” Horsepower replied, looking through his electrobinoculars at the Decepticons departing Sparkstalker’s base. “We’ve got the Mastermind’s location.”

“Not just that,” Fastback pointed out. “The Decepticons are dealing with them. There might be more to this.”

Horsepower paused. “Normally I’d say we report back to Prowl… but in this case, I think he’ll excuse us if we’re a bit late.”

Fastback grinned. “Off we go, then!”

“So, what you’re saying is Megatron suspects you.”

“Negative. He is merely seeking alternative benefactors.”

“Which, in turn, means he doesn’t trust us.” Ratbat sighed.

It had been several groons since the end of the deal with Sparkstalker. After stopping by Tarn to drop off his team, Soundwave had made back for Kaon to meet with his master and report.

“Honestly, Soundwave, I’d have thought you would do better at keeping you true colors covert,” Ratbat muttered. “Now Megatron suspects us.”

A shadow fell over Soundwave’s visor. He was silent for a few moments.

“On the contrary, Senator, I believe I was remarkably successful at concealing my loyalties.”

“Then how did–”

“However, those loyalties are not to you.”

Ratbat paused, slowly turning around. “What do you mean by tha–”

“They are to the Decepticon cause.”

Soundwave fired his blaster, tearing a hole through the senator’s chest. Ratbat cried out in pain as he fell.

“Stitch, eject. Operation: spark transfer.”

A green and grey bot bearing the same body-type as Rumble and Frenzy emerged from Soundwave’s chest, followed by a spare data disc.

“Normally I wouldn’t indulge in this type of work,” Stitch said, a grin on his face. “But for someone as corrupt as you, Ratbat, I’ll make an exception.”

“Soundwave, what are you doing?”

“Resource reallocation.” As Soundwave replied, another voice, a recording, was played through his speakers. Ratbat’s voice. It was from the first time he had met Soundwave. 

“It would be such a shame to see a valuable bot such as yourself wasted in this horrid place.”

As Stitch reached into Ratbat’s chest, the senator screamed for help, for somebody, anybody, to stop his turncoat agent.

But nobody came.

Chapter Text

A gray and black starship flew down towards Nova Cronum’s spaceports. Head of security Airwave activated a channel.

“Incoming ship, please give identification and landing permit.”

:“‘Sup, Airwave?”:

“Hellbat. What’re you doing here?”

:“Just bringing back our load. You know what to do – a blind optic and you get your Shanix.”:

Airwave grinned. “Oh, Hellbat. You know me so well.”

“And this happened when?”

“I don’t know!” Powerplay replied. “I’m just the camera guy. Don’t know what went on in there – Ratbat won’t allow any cameras in his quarters – but I walked in ta check on him, an’ he’s like this!”

Nightbeat sighed. “And he was the best link to Frenzy we had…”

“Frenzy? Dat spawn of a glitch? Why d’ya need him?”

“We think he released Quake,” the blue and yellow detective explained. “We know he’s familiar with Soundwave, who works for… well, worked for him.” Nightbeat gestured to the lifeless body of Senator Ratbat of Kaon on the ground. “So, perhaps through him, we could track down Frenzy and bring him in.”

“A bit flimsy, don’tcha think?”

“Flimsy, but the best lead we’ve got.”

“Ah’ll get to gathering the footage for ya,” Powerplay said. “Ya’ll keep doin’ what yer doin’.”

“I don’t trust him,” Puzzle muttered as Powerplay walked off.

“Good instincts.” Nightbeat smiled at his mentee. “However, in this case I do believe he is innocent.”

Puzzle huffed. “I’m not convinced.”

“Hey, don’t turn into a Breakdown. You hear the stuff he says in Kalis Prison?”

“I am not as paranoid as Breakdown.”

“Prowl, then.”

“…Maybe.”

As Powerplay gathered the footage, he hummed The Empyrean Suite, a popular song composed by Playline as a celebration of Primus and the creation of their race.

“And who might you be gathering those files for?”

Powerplay froze. He turned around, terrified, before letting out a sigh of relief.

“Oh. Dezarus. It’s you. Thank Primus . Ah’m just gettin’ them for Nightbeat. Might have a break in the case regardin’ the Quake escape.”

“Ah. A shame, then.”

Powerplay paused. “Hm?”

“You seem like a nice bot, erm…”

“Powerplay.”

“Powerplay. You seem like a nice bot. A shame you have to die.”

Powerplay froze, turning around as Dezarus thrust his hands forward, grabbing Powerplay by the head and digging into his cranium with his claws. He then tore his head clean off, and to be safe, ground it under his heel, destroying the poor surveillance officer’s brain module, and with it, his life. The winged Cybertronian placed an explosive on the computer containing the footage and left the room, a datapad holding what had already been extracted in hand.

“Where the Pit is he?” Prowl wondered.

“He’s coming, Prowl,” Nightbeat assured. “I’m certain.”

“I told you he couldn’t be trusted.”

“Your mentee is more intelligent than he looks.”

“I’m going to check on him,” Nightbeat said as he began making his way towards the surveillance room.

Prowl sighed. “Might as well make sure he doesn’t get into any more trouble.”

He and Puzzle rushed after Nightbeat, only to find him standing in front of the room.

“Huh.”

“What’s going on, Nightbeat?” Puzzle asked. “Is something–”

“You should go, Puzzle.”

“I… what?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to see this. I know I don’t want to.”

Prowl walked over and gazed in. “Hm. I think it should be fine. They need to learn about death at his age.”

“Wait, he’s dead ?!”

“Personally, I think he’s still a bit too young. Y’know, being just over two megacycles old now. So yes, Puzzle, if you’ll go – BOMB!”

Nightbeat quickly tackled Puzzle to the ground, with Prowl diving close behind, as the surveillance room exploded in a fiery haze.

“Get Hot Spot and his team down here!” Prowl shouted. “NOW!”

“ALREADY ON IT!” Siren replied, assuming his car mode and rushing off.

“Whoever did this will be brought down,” Prowl snarled. “Inform Red Alert, Nightbeat. Then it’s back to your case.”

“Erm… okay, Prowl.”

Prowl stormed off, activating his comlink. “Get me Streetwise and Downshift. We’ve got a bomber to hunt down.”

Orion Pax drove across the roadway. He was on his way towards Helex, where Dion and the Elite Guard recruits were currently training. He wanted to check up on his best friend, see how his training had been going.

“–ork this time, please!”

A Seeker appeared out of absolutely nowhere. At least, he looked like a Seeker. Orion swerved, assuming his robot mode to prevent a crash.

As he looked at the sudden arrival, he noticed that this bot looked fairly different from the average Seeker. His wings and shoulder intakes were missing. One of his arm cannons was blown off. He clutched one of his arms, grimacing in pain as he rose. Orion noticed that he bore the same color scheme that Skywarp’s profile depicted that Seeker with.

“Well, it’s Cybertron, that’s for sure,” the Seeker muttered. “But is it the right–”

He blinked, then turned to face Orion.

“...Prime?”

Orion blinked. “Erm, no. I am not a Prime. You must be looking for Sentinel.”

“Dammit,” the Seeker growled. “If Sentinel’s in charge, then I’m not–”

He froze, then took a closer look at Orion.

“...You’re Orion Pax, aren’t you? The one who… oh, what kilocycle is it…?”

“23rd vorn since since the destruction of the Space Bridges.”

“You… you gave Megatron access to more channels! You’re that Orion Pax, right?”

“Erm… yes?”

He rushed over, grabbing Orion by the shoulders. “Pax, you need to listen to me very carefully. I can’t say much. Just… keep an optic on Cordon, okay?”

“Um… who is…?”

“Just don’t let him near – wait, no, not–!”

The Seeker disappeared as suddenly as he’d appeared. Orion stood there, flabbergasted by what he had witnessed.

“Looks like Scorponok’s army is closing in,” Kiloton noted. “You ready, Megs?”

Megatron smiled. “Ready as I’ll ever be, Kilo.”

“Ugh, you two are so disgusting,” Straxus muttered, hefting the pickaxe from his mining days. 

“You just lack a bit o’ affection in yer life, Straxus,” S-06 teased. “I mean, I didn’t even know you had siblings til one of ‘em came up to me askin’ about you.”

“Straxus has siblings?”

“Oh, laugh it up,” Straxus growled. “They’re far too easygoing. Too… content with the Functionists.”

“I dunno,” S-06 muttered. “Arcee didn’t seem like she liked the Functionists very much. Had quite a few words regarding them.”

“Wait. “She”?”

“Er, yes? Why do you act like you didn’t know she was – wait. Oh. You didn’t know, did you?”

Straxus went silent.

“No time for self-reflection!” Kiloton shouted. “We’ve got incoming!”

“Scorponok?”

“No,” Kiloton noted. “Looks like Cruellock is leading the charge. The big bad must be busy elsewhere. Maybe Halonix has him occupied?”

“Regardless, we’re takin’ him down,” Impactor growled.

“Autobots! Prepare to defend!” their commander, Bombshock, shouted. “Fight to the last bot!”

“Megatron!”

Megatron’s mind was snapped back to the present by Impactor barging into the room.

“What the Pit is this I heard about Sparkstalker?” the former miner growled. “Yer tryin’a recruit that piece o’ slag?”

“Now, Impactor,” Megatron said, standing up. “I wanted to see if Sparkstalker would be an ally in our struggle against Prime.”

“Zeta’s dead! And you’re a senator!” Impactor looked Megatron over. “This ain’t completely about equality anymore. Sure, that’s still there, but underneath that, it’s yer stupid grudge!”

Megatron clenched his fist. “Have you neglected the fact that Sentinel has yet to repeal the Functionist Act? And before you say that he’s been busy resolving the aftermath of Zeta’s attack, that was finished up some time ago. He’s following in Zeta’s footsteps and doesn’t even realize it. We must speak up, raise our voices so we will be heard.”

“But recruitin’ Sparkstalker doesn’t have anythin’ to–”

“It does,” Megatron growled. “He may not be the best bot, but his information was vital to Scorponok’s defeat. You and I were both there. Having someone of such credibility could have been useful. Regardless, he refused.”

“If you wanted war heroes, look at our guard. Skytread. Ruckus. Blackout. Fraggin’ Thunderwing of all bots. Sparkstalker is far from virtuous. Sure, he’s a brilliant cryptologist, but he’s a selfish piece o’ slag to go with it.”

“I assure you, Impactor, I have ways of keeping him in line,” Megatron assured. “Soundwave was to keep that visor of his on him at all times. But, again, he refused, so the point is moot.”

Impactor sighed. “It ain’t whether or not it happened that worries me, Megatron. It’s the thought of even going through with it.”

Impactor departed, leaving Megatron to think.

“Megatron.”

Megatron growled. “What now, Impactor?”

“Oh, I’m not Impactor.”

Megatron glanced up. In the doorway stood none other than Dezarus.

“Dezarus.” Megatron rose, walking over to the large swordsman. “How did you get in here?”

“I have my ways.”

“More of your little agents, I assume?”

“Of course. Sharp as ever, Megatron.” Dezarus looked around the room. “This place could use some redecorating.”

“What did you come here for?”

The beast-mode smiled. “Ah, straight to the point. I like that. I have agents in both the Decepticons and the Autobots. I intend to see which side will ultimately prove victorious. I’ve meddled in the affairs of each. For example, a team of security officers stumbled upon Ratbat’s… induction, recently. I destroyed the evidence before they could find it. Wouldn’t want Soundwave outed as a criminal, now would we?”

“Your point?”

“A warning, Megatron. I know you have something big planned. So do Sentinel’s security forces. Cannonbolt’s visits haven’t gone unnoticed. Prime highly suspects the Decepticons are preparing for war. Now, I want neither rejection nor confirmation of this notion. However, know that Prime has personally inducted a spy into your ranks, and sent two more to check up on them.”

Megatron remained silent.

“Well, I shall be taking my leave. Farewell, Megatron.”

Megatron was alone once more, left to contemplate this new information.

“Ugh, this is boring,” Horsepower grumbled. “I wanna kick some aft!”

“Ease off, Horsepower. You’ll get your chance,” Fastback assured. “Er… probably.”

“I dunno, Fastback. All this recon stuff is screwin’ my circuits.”

“Again, you’ll get your action soon enough.”

“He’s right. You will.”

The pair turned to see a yellow and black Deployer that shared Laserbeak’s body-type hovering over them.

“‘Sup.”

Horsepower jumped a bit. “Who the Pit are you?”

“Oh, y’know, just your average artist. Name’s Buzzsaw. Recently got back to Cybertron, y’know? Hitched a ride with a few new friends. Wouldja like to meet ‘em?”

“Oh, yes,” a voice behind them replied. “I think they very much would.”

Fastback’s optics flickered on. He saw Megatron standing before him. Holding him were two Seekers, one red and black, and one entirely gray. Standing in front of him was a blue and white jet, with what looked like false wings on the side of his head. The yellow bird – Buzzsaw – was perched on his shoulder. Behind Megatron stood Soundwave, Zardak, and Warmonger.

“Excellent work, Hellbat,” Megatron congratulated. “Red Wing, Blast, release him.”

The two Seekers let go of Fastback. The small Autobot immediately lunged forward.

“Where’s Horsepower?” he growled. “What did you do to him?”

“He’ll be fine,” Zardak assured. “It’s you I’d be more worried about.”

“Quiet, Zardak.” Megatron glanced down at Fastback. “Knowing Sentinel, he probably sent you to stop me from enacting the change Cybertron needs.”

Soundwave winced internally as Megatron spoke. He could feel the rage, the anger , flowing through his mind. But also… sadness?

“You’ll never get away with it,” Fastback growled. “Zeta would have stopped you, but that turncoat senator killed him.”

Megatron’s gaze hardened. “A Zeta sympathizer, then. Your mere support of that monster signs your death warrant.”

Megatron raised his arm, aiming the fusion cannon directly at Fastback, and fired. The blast tore through the smaller bot, and he fell to the floor, spark extinguished.

“Warmonger, Blast, dispose of the other one.”

Warmonger hesitated, gazing down at the fallen Fastback.

“C’mon, Warmonger,” Blast said, walking past him. “We got a job to do.”

Warmonger turned and followed his fellow Seeker out of the room. Megatron observed his departure. 

“Follow them,” he said to Soundwave.

“Acknowledged.”

“Any word from Fastback and Horsepower since they entered Tarn?”

“Negative, sir,” Ironhide reported. “They’ve gone dark, the idiots.”

“Ironhide…”

“What else was their decision if not idiotic, Prime? You don’t go into a potentially hostile environment without a superior officer at their level of experience. They’re cadets, fer cryin’ out loud.”

Sentinel Prime sighed. “I’m tempted to dispatch Prowl, but I know he’s busy with his investigation. Send for Hyperdrive. Have his team go check in on them, but minimal weaponry. We do not want to provoke them into attacking. Megatron is a senator, and to intrude in such a way would be to invite war.”

Ironhide nodded. “On it, Prime.”

“Why the Pit would you do that?!”

“Impactor, listen–”

“No!” the purple and yellow miner growled. “You’ve gone too far, Megatron! I’m done. I’m all for risin’ up against our oppressors, but murderin’ innocent bots?”

“You did not protest when I killed Guardian.”

“Because he was not innocent. This one was. He was young, and–”

“He supported Zeta’s philosophy.”

“So what? They are ideas of a young bot still finding his way in the world, not some massive plot to kill us all! Has your anger towards Sentinel blinded you that much? Get a slagging new hobby, Megs!”

Megatron froze. “Impactor…”

“I’m done. I’m lettin’ Sentinel know ‘bout this. All of this!”

Impactor began walking towards the door when Megatron’s voice stopped him. “We never did fight in the arena, did we?”

“Whaddya mean by that?”

Impactor was sent flying as Megatron’s mace slammed into his side. As he recovered, he looked up to see Megatron standing over him, his red optics blazing with fury.

“You’ve misstepped, Impactor…”

“Strange.”

“What’s strange, Nightbeat?” Prowl asked with a sigh. “I’m getting tired of waiting.”

“The computer, while salvageable, seems to be missing the files regarding the time surrounding Ratbat’s death.”

“That doesn’t help us with anything,” the officer growled. “We already knew that. What we need to know is who killed him and why they took his spark and brain module.”

“I wasn’t finished.” Nightbeat turned back to the computer. “The big thing is that they didn’t cover their tracks well. The original files may seem deleted to the average optic, but if you dig deeper, with some help from my Technical Solutions friend Lightspeed…”

Lightspeed, a red and white car standing beside Nightbeat, waved at Prowl. “Hi.”

“Didn’t even notice you.”

“Oh…”

“Prowl, be nice,” Nightbeat said with a frown. “Anyways, with Lightspeed’s help, we’ve recovered the files. Unfortunately, we can’t view them on this computer, so we need to take them back to Technical Solutions, where Brainstorm can give us a better idea of what’s on this thing.”

“You will take it back,” Prowl corrected. “I will investigate the one behind the explosion.”

“Eh, we have a team, anyways.”

“Ready to go, Lightspeed?”

A red and white jet stepped forward. Behind him were another, smaller red and white jet and an orange motorcycle.

“Yeah, Scattershot, we’re ready,” Lightspeed replied. “I don’t think we need all this security.”

“You’re transporting sensitive information. Our job is to protect sensitive information. Not many other options left.”

Scattershot turned around. “Afterburner, take the lead. Strafe, get in the air. We’re headed for Iacon.”

“O-O-On it!” Strafe muttered, a slight stutter in his voice, as he assumed his jet mode and took off. Afterburner assumed his motorcycle mode and drove ahead, followed closely by Nightbeat, Puzzle, and Scattershot, all in their vehicle modes.

Prowl sighed. Now it was back to work once more.

“Out, spy,” Blast growled. Horsepower grunted as he was pulled out by the Seeker, who forced him to his knees. “Yer bein’ executed for crimes against Cybertron.”

“Crimes?” Horsepower grumbled. “I didn’t commit no crimes. I was just doin’ my duty.”

“So supportin’ Zeta Prime’s actions ain’t a crime?”

“One: what the Pit happened to your voice, Blast? Two: I don’t support Zeta. Like, at all. I may be the “let me at ‘em” type, but I’m not goin’ at just anyone.”

“Well, one of the first things your friend said was that he wished Zeta had killed us all.”

Horsepower blinked. “Fastback? No… no, he wouldn’t.”

“It looks like he’s telling the truth, Blast,” Warmonger noted. “Maybe we should–”

“What? Let him go?” Blast chuckled. “Yeah, don’t think so. You seen what our kind does out there, beyond Cybertron? It’s gonna be a kill or be killed world here soon, and I’m just stayin’ ahead of the game.”

He turned back to Horsepower, aiming his blaster at his head. “Now say goodbye, Senate-serving scu–”

Blast let out a small cry as electricity coursed through his body. He collapsed as Warmonger folded his stunner back into his arm.

Horsepower took note of the integrated weaponry. “You’re… you were part of the Primal Vanguard!”

“Yes, now shush,” Warmonger hissed. “If you wanna get out of here alive, you’ve gotta–”

“Heads up!”

Warmonger glanced over and ducked just as Wingstun flew over his head. He glanced back at the door to see a battered Impactor, one of his hands torn off at the wrist.

“Get outta here,” the former miner muttered. “I’ll try to hold ‘em off. Already knocked Soundwave out. Best hurry, though – Megs ain’t gonna be too happy ‘bout my escape. Just get the Pit outta Tarn.”

Warmonger hesitated. “Not without you, evidently.”

“What?“

“You think I’m just gonna let you do a face-turn and then sacrifice yourself? You know more about Megatron than anyone else, Impactor. We need you.”

After a moment, Impactor sighed. “Fine, I’ll come. Just… hurry.”

“Senator Cloudblast?”

Cloudblast, the new senator of Vos, sighed. “Yes, Slipstream?”

Slipstream, now no longer working with Swindle, held out a datapad. “You might want to see this.”

Cloudblast took the datapad and looked over it.

“I don’t get it, Slipstream,” he muttered. “What’s so–”

A shot to the head silenced him.

As the senator’s now-headless body collapsed, Slipstream contacted Megatron.

“Hey, Megs. It’s Slipstream. Vos is yours… for a price.”

Chapter Text

“Megatron.”

Megatron sighed. “What is it, Soundwave? I’m busy.”

“Laserbeak has returned.”

“Megatron, we got a problem,” the bird-like Deployer said, landing on the senator’s desk. “‘Parently Warmonger was an Autobot spy. He’s runnin’ off with Impactor and the other guy.”

Megatron’s optics narrowed. “Send in Zardak and his Seekers. Now . We cannot allow them to warn Sentinel.”

“At once, Lord Megatron.”

“No titles, Soundwave. We are all equal. That is the message Cybertron needs to hear.”

“Move, move!”

Warmonger flew through the air. Impactor and Horsepower followed on the ground below in their vehicle forms.

“Who knows when Megatron will realize that we’ve escaped! We gotta get out of Tarn!”

“We know,” Impactor grumbled. “Don’t need to lay it out for us.”

“Hey.” Horsepower spoke up. “You guys hear–”

At that moment, a missile flew through the air and struck Horsepower, blowing the cadet apart.

“Horsepower!”

“Aw, slag,” Impactor muttered. “Zardak.”

Zardak flew towards the group, followed closely by Sunstorm, Ramjet, and Black Out, not to be confused with the helicopter Blackout.

“Wait, that’s Sunstorm!” Warmonger noted. “He was one of Ulchtar’s guards!”

Zardak fired two objects at Warmonger. The question of what they were was soon answered as the objects – data discs – morphed into a pair of Deployers – both blue, one bearing Laserbeak’s body-type and one bearing Ravage’s. They landed atop Warmonger and tore into him, sending the Seeker spiraling into the ground.

Impactor turned to race towards him, which Zardak noticed.

“Ramjet and I will take Impactor. Get Warmonger and bring him to Megatron.”

Sunstorm and Black Out veered off to get Warmonger, while Zardak swooped down towards Impactor.

Warmonger, meanwhile, rose from where he crashed and activated his comlink. “Prime, it’s Warmonger. Megatron’s planning to–”

A stun blast courtesy of Black Out sent the spy falling to the ground, unconscious.

“Now that’s what I call a clean op, Howlback,” the bird-like Deployer said with a grin.

“Agreed, Garboil,” Howlback replied. “Now let’s get this traitor back to Megatron. He probably wants a word.”

Impactor drove as fast as he could as Zardak approached him. A pair of missiles hit the ground beneath him, sending him flying. He assumed his robot mode before landing, facing the jet as it fired on him. Impactor knew he couldn’t outrun the flier, but if he was going out, he would put up a slaggin’ good fight, even if it hurt like Pit to stand.

That is, until a mode lock flew from behind him, hitting Zardak and sending him plummeting to the ground.

Impactor turned to see Team Turbomaster of the Elite Guard heading straight for him. Ramjet noticed this too.

“Welp, time for me to get outta here.” The Seeker turned around and flew back into Tarn.

“Are you alright?” Scorch asked, assuming his robot mode and stepping up to Impactor. The turncoat Decepticon winced as he turned to face the Turbomaster.

“I’ll be fine,” he assured. “But the ‘cons have Warmonger.”

“And we’ll take care of them,” Hyperdrive assured. “But not alone. We’re heading back to Iacon. Warning Sentinel, getting reinforcements. Rotorstorm, Thunderclash, Scorch, take Zardak to Kalis. A bot like him is too dangerous to be let loose.”

“Zardak’s what?”

“Gone,” Sunstorm repeated. “Captured. Knowing his status, probably on his way to Kalis. You gonna tell your pal?”

Starscream sighed. “Yes, I suppose I must. Go report to Megatron, Sunstorm.”

As the orange Seeker walked off, Starscream sighed, assuming his tetrajet mode and making his way towards the Tarn science building. Upon arrival, he reverted to his robot mode, brushing himself before entering.

“Jetfire?”

A red and white jet notably larger than Starscream turned to face the former senator. A warm smile spread across his face. “Ulchtar. It’s good to see you again.”

“You too,” the ex-senator replied. “I… just thought it best to inform you. Zardak has been… captured.”

Jetfire blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Zardak. Your “brother” of a sort. He’s been captured.”

The larger jet groaned. “Of course he has. What did he do this time?”

Starscream strung a quick lie together in his head. “Impactor… left. Zardak went to try to convince him to come back, but the Elite Guard stormed in and took him.”

Jetfire paused. “No questions? Just… took him prisoner?”

“Yes. I suspect Zark will not be happy.”

“I mean, I’m not happy,” Jetfire noted. “Obviously. We were constructed together to combat the Skyraiders. We fought side-by-side. Even though I may not cherish those memories, they do create a kind of attachment.”

“Yes, well, I must leave. Megatron requires my services.”

Starscream left as Jetfire continued his work.

“What are those, Shutter?”

Shutter smiled, looking down at her black and yellow mentee. “Those are the Celestial Spires, Bumblebee,” she replied. “Ancient relics from the distant past. Some believe they were the homes of the Thirteen.”

“Wow…” the smaller Cybertronian muttered. Bumblebee was among the latest generation forged, and Shutter, as his mentor, was showing him around Cybertron. It was nice, seeing him light up at everything.

“Say, Shutter?”

“Yes, Bumblebee?”

“I… heard someone talking about something called the Decepticons?”

“A political party. Some of their leaders, such as Megatron and Jhiaxus, serve on the Senate.”

“Will… will I have to choose? Between them and the Autobots?”

Shutter scoffed. “Of course not. There are dozens of political parties. Autobots, Decepticons, Reversionists, Functionists… and of course, many choose none, myself included. It’s up to you what you do with the life you have been given, Bumblebee. Do not let yourself be pressured into making decisions you do not want to make.”

“Okay.”

Shutter smiled. She did worry about the growing tension between parties, but ultimately, Cybertron was at peace. All she hoped was that this peace would last long enough for Bumblebee to find his place in it.

“What?”

Sunstorm gawked as Starscream walked into the room. Megatron stood before him, gazing out the window. Soundwave stood at his side.

“What is the outburst about, Sunstorm?” Starscream grumbled.

“Megatron is apparently glad that Zardak got captured!”

Starscream blinked, then looked to the Decepticon leader. “Well, Megatron? I assume you have some ingenious plan?”

“That I do, Starscream,” Megatron said with a smile. “Soundwave, rally our forces. It is time for us to make our mark. First, of course…”

Black Out dragged Warmonger into the room and tossed him forward. Warmonger coughed up a bit of energon.

“Frag you,” he growled.

Megatron sighed. “Really, Warmonger, you were shaping up to be a fine Decepticon. Of course, we cannot have your Autobot ideals continue contaminating our world. Not to mention, a traitor to Cybertron is an offense punishable by death, according to Nova’s own laws. And that is the only one of his laws that I fully agree with.”

The last thing Warmonger saw before his world went dark was the barrel of Megatron’s fusion cannon.

“And you’re certain that Megatron is planning a revolution?”

“Prime, if I weren’t completely sure, I wouldn’t be here,” Impactor muttered. He winced as he shifted his weight to his right leg.

“Fireball, take him to Ratchet.”

Fireball, having moved up to the Elite Guard since the fall of the Stunticons, led Impactor out of the room. Sentinel Prime, Delta Magnus, Kup, Hyperdrive, and Ironhide remained in person, with Speedstream, Halonix Maximus, and Bombshock present in holographic form.

“This is a grave situation.”

Kup scoffed. “Yeah, no scrap, Magnus. Whadda we do, Prime?”

“Hyperdrive, you and the Turbomasters will head to Nova Cronum. Assist Speedstream in its defense until we determine Megatron’s point of attack. Once we do, you will be dispatched there. Delta Magnus, you and the rest of the Guard remain in Iacon, should Megatron have the gall to come straight for us.”

“Alright, Zardak, get a move on.”

Zardak huffed as Rotorstorm, Scorch, and Thunderclash led him through Kalis Prison, passing by cells containing criminals such as Quake, Dreadwing, Blue Bacchus, and the Stunticons. Other security guards, including Silverstreak (who was blue, not to be confused for her brother, Bluestreak, who was silver), Outback, Cog, Stingracer, Windstorm, and Slapdash.

As Zardak was led towards a cell, he glanced at Stingracer and nodded. The guard nodded back, discreetly preparing a flashbang behind their back.

Stingracer tossed the flashbang, blinding everyone aside from Zardak, who had looked away. They quickly deactivated Zardak’s manacles, freeing the flier.

“The frag is happening?!” Rotorstorm shouted.

“Pull together!” Thunderclash ordered. “Don’t let Zardak escape!”

Stingracer activated his comlink. “Battleslash, Roadtrap, status?”

At the prison’s command center, the couple stood amongst a room caked in energon from their recent victims. Battleslash took his blades to the warden, Stormwave, as Roadtrap responded.

“All clear up here, Sting. Opening the cells now.”

“Guys, we got a problem!” Windstorm called as the energy barriers keeping the prisoners in their cells deactivated. The prisoners emerged, looking ready for a fight.

“Thunderclash, Rotorstorm, Slapdash, get to Iacon!” Scorch ordered. “We’ll hold them here!”

“No!” Thunderclash protested. “We’re not leaving you!”

“I said go!” Scorch shouted. “You’re more useful to Hyperdrive than anyone else here!”

Zardak rushed forward, grabbing Scorch and tossing him into the wall. “You’re not gettin’ away,” he growled. “We can’t let you get back to Prime quite yet.” 

However, his attempt to stop Thunderclash was foiled by Cog and Silverstreak.

“Go!” Silverstreak shouted. “We’ll hold them off!”

Cog assumed his armed backpack mode, latching onto Silverstreak. The Praxus native scowled as she opened fire using Cog’s blasters.

After a moment of hesitancy, Thunderclash turned and ran towards the exit, followed closely by Rotorstorm and Slapdash.

“You can’t be serious, ‘Clash,” Rotorstorm complained. “We can’t just–”

“We’ll be back for him,” Thunderclash assured. “We’ll return for all of them. But we need reinforcements first.”

“Fine,” the blue and pink helicopter grumbled. “Whatever’s going down elsewhere – because something is going down – it better not be worse than this…”

“Orion! Good to see ya!”

Orion smiled as he walked over to Dion. “It’s good to see you, too, pal. How’s the training going?”

“It’s going great!” Dion said. “You’re looking at an official Elite Guard cadet, Pax! Anyways, what have you been doing? Elita said something about Megatron?”

“I helped him spread his message of equality,” Orion explained. “I found his writings and thought that he might want help spreading the message.”

“He writes?”

“He did, back when he was a miner. Before he had the resources to broadcast. Have you read any of his work?”

“No.”

“You should check out Towards Peace. It’s powerful stuff.”

“Y’know what? Why not? I’ll do that later.”

“Dion, we don’t have long,” Bombshock said, stepping up to the pair.

:“Hey, uh… Bombshock?” :

“Yes, Windsail?”

:“We’ve got incoming.” :

“What?”

Bombshock pulled out electrobinoculars, taking a look towards the horizon.

“Huh. That’s… a lotta bots. Betting it’s Megatron.”

“Megatron?” Orion was thoroughly confused. “Why would he be heading here?”

“To conquer the city, of course.”

Orion was caught off guard by this response. “Conquer the – Megatron would never. I know him!”

“‘Parently not like you thought you did, Pax,” Bombshock growled. “Now stay outta the way and let us handle this.”

“No. I’m going to help.”

“Pax–”

“Commander, just don’t,” Dion said. “He’s too stubborn to give up.”

Bombshock paused for a moment. He sighed in resignation. “Fine. Just don’t get in my way.”

Orion Pax gazed out at the approaching army. “What are you doing, Megatron…?”

Just outside Helex, Megatron assumed his robot mode. He turned to face his army.

“Decepticons! The Autobots refuse to listen to our demands! They continue hoarding energon, suppressing our people, and promoting their Functionist scrap! Well, no more! The time has come for us to show them how dedicated we are to our cause! We begin with Helex, but soon, all of Cybertron will be freed from their autocratic rule! Now, Decepticons – rise up!”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, we need you in Helex, Prowl!” Red Alert repeated. “Your team is the closest one, and Bombshock has informed us of Megatron’s assault. Sky Lynx will be there soon to provide evacuation assistance.”

“Red, listen. We’re on the trail of a bomber, and we–”

“This is urgent, Prowl. If we don’t stop this, war could be on the horizon. I do not want to have to deal with people out to kill me just after wrapping up my sessions with Rung.”

“I’ll do what I can to help,” Prowl muttered, cutting the connection. “Downshift, Pointblank, Peacemaker – we have a new assignment. Head for Helex, at speed!”

“Slag!” Bombshock swore. “We can’t hold ‘em off for long!”

Dion gunned down a nearby Decepticon, but failed to notice Ruckus charging up behind him. However, the Decepticon was stopped by a blast from Orion’s ion blaster, a weapon designed by Ironfist and given to him by Dion for this fight.

“Thanks, Pax.”

“No problem,” Orion huffed. “What do we do? There’s no way we can hold them off!”

“Just got word!” Windsail reported, flying down to the group and assuming his robot mode. “Red’s sending Sky Lynx and Prowl.”

“Oh, joy,” Bombshock muttered. “Well, prepare for evacuation! When they get here, Dion, do your best to keep Prowl occupied on the ride to Iacon.”

“Why?”

“If he makes a single prickish remark, I will deck him in the face.”

“Don’t keep him occupied,” Cliffjumper whispered to the blue and orange bot. “I’ve gotta see that.”

A shadow passed over the group. They looked up to see a fairly large craft flying above.

“Have no fear, lesser beings, for Sky Lynx has entered the fray! Unless, of course, you are attacking this city. Then you have every reason to fear!”

“Primus, I already hate him,” Dion muttered.

A hatch on Sky Lynx’s underside opened, and Prowl stood in the doorway.

“Hurry it up!”

“Move, men!” Bombshock shouted.

“You gotta be kiddin’ me!” Cliffjumper cried. “We’re retreating?”

“We’re hopelessly outnumbered, and by the time reinforcements would have arrived, we’d have been dead!” Bombshock growled. “So yes, Cliffjumper, we are retreating. Unless you wish to argue?”

Cliffjumper opened his mouth, but then closed it. Sending a scowl in the commander’s direction, he began falling back towards Sky Lynx. The others began following, but a barrage of gunfire courtesy of Starscream and the Seekers stopped them.

“We’ll hold ‘em off!” Dion shouted. “Orion, get to the shuttle! You’re not a fighter!”

“Dion, no! I won’t–”

“Go, Orion!”

Suddenly, Skywarp materialized in front of Dion. He aimed his arm-mounted rocket launcher at the cadet.

“Take this, Autobot!”

Skywarp fired. Dion jumped back, but the resulting explosion sent him flying into a nearby building. He groaned, beginning to rise.

“Dion!” Orion cried. He quickly leaped onto Skywarp, wrapping his arms around his neck.

“Get offa me!” the Seeker growled, quickly teleporting out of Orion’s grasp. He appeared behind him and blasted the archivist in the back.

“Ya’ll academics shoulda stayed back in the archives, huh?” the Seeker chuckled. However, he was then blasted from behind by Landshark.

“Get to the shuttle!” the larger bot shouted.

“But… but Dion–”

“We’ll get Dion! You get to the shuttle!”

Cliffjumper and Landshark made a break towards Dion – only for a pair of missiles courtesy of Skywarp to hit the building. The structure gave way as Dion rose. He looked up to see Cliffjumper and Landshark stopping… just as the building collapsed. The last thing Dion saw before his world went dark was rubble falling all around him.

“Fill me in, quickly.”

“Reports say that Megatron has launched an attack on Helex,” Fireball reported. He had been promoted to a member of the Elite Guard following the Stunticon situation. “Bombshock and Prowl are doing their best to evacuate, but we don’t know how long–”

“Slaggit,” Sentinel Prime muttered. “We can’t send too many to Helex. This is war now. The big cities – Iacon, Nova Cronum, Vos, Stanix – take precedence. Have them pull out immediately.”

“From what I heard, Red Alert sent Sky Lynx to assist with that.”

“Always thinking ahead. For all of Zeta’s terrible decisions, putting Red in charge of security was his one good one. Has anyone been able to get ahold of Termagax?”

“Termagax?” Fireball questioned. “Like, former senator, founder of the Ascenticons Termagax? Why her?”

“She holds something… vital,” Sentinel explained. “Something Megatron must never acquire. Find one of her trusted few – Geomotus, maybe. Send a few lower-profile escorts. Termagax must be found – and warned.”

“DION!”

“Hey, pal, we gotta go!” Cliffjumper shouted. “They’re almost on top of us!”

“But–”

“Cliffjumper’s right, Pax,” Bombshock growled. “Get aboard Sky Lynx. Accept it – Dion’s gone.”

Orion paused, but reluctantly relented, boarding the flyer after casting a glance back at the collapsed building. The Elite Guard followed him on, save Clear Out, who was blown out of the sky by Sunstorm. Sky Lynx quickly blasted off. Inside, Prowl looked at Bombshock.

“Good job training those cadets, Bombshock.”

Bombshock looked at Prowl silently. He then decked the officer in the face.

“Shall we give chase, Lord Megatron?” Starscream asked as he watched Sky Lynx fly away.

“Not lord. Just Megatron,” the Decepticon leader replied. “And no. They are in retreat. Let them inform Sentinel. His government would not listen to words… so now we must persist through violence. Helex is ours. We have the loyalties of Tarn, Vos, Kaon, and Tesarus. It’s time for war.”

“Megatron has declared war on us!” Sentinel Prime announced to the crowd gathered below. Among them stood Orion, Elita, and Roller. “He has taken our cities and killed our soldiers. But we will not roll over to this warmonger. I assure you, citizens of Cybertron, that he will be brought to justice – and the Autobots will be the one to do so! Not the political faction that Zeta represented, but the freedom fighters born long ago!”

And as the crowd below cheered, someone else watched on, taking it all in – a black and orange jet with a visor instead of a face.

“Oh, now this could be interesting…”

A decacyle later, in Tarn, the Decepticon known as Slicer walked down the streets. He hummed to himself, tossing the Shanix in his hand up and catching it.

A strange tingle in his sensors told him that something was wrong. A sudden flash of light, and Slicer was on the ground. However, he was… different. Still nearly identical to Wheeljack and bearing the same color scheme, but he now bore a purple Autobot symbol on his chest, rather than none like the original.

His green optics (as opposed to the original orange) blinked on. He looked around, taking in his surroundings.

“Looks like Tarn,” he muttered. “Seems I’ve been shunted across space and time. It worked, after all! Take that, O.P.!”

A quick hack into the Decepticons’ database told him everything he needed to know. A quick self-given battle scar wiped off his insignia, and he made his way towards Decepticon HQ. He had plans, and he was going to join the team that aligned most with those plans.

“So it’s true.”

“Yes, Boltax,” Alpha Trion said, watching as the golden bot paced. “I’m… not completely sure what this means.”

“Trouble, no doubt.” Boltax picked up a nearby device and tinkered with it. “Does Sentinel know? Or Jhiaxus?”

“Of course not. They believe we destroyed it back during the Revolution. Not to mention Jhiaxus is a Decepticon.”

“I’d still try to get ahold of him. He knows of its power, and if Megatron is foolish enough to try to take it, Jhiaxus will know to stop him.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Alpha Trion muttered.

“I often am.” Boltax set the device aside. “After all, Jhiaxus was present for its creation. He of all people should know that all that comes from its power… is madness or death.”