Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Diane and Blake smiled at each other as Diane drove her metal gold and bright purple-blue outlined Rolls-Royce Sweptail down the main street. She merely scoffed catching snot-nosed kids and their cheap parents glancing in awe at the vehicle. They could only dream of owning what was pocket change to her.

Blake wasn’t a good driver, and he knew it, so she did the steering, not that she minded one bit. She loved being behind the wheel and the power of the engine in her grasp. Blake loved to feel the wind in his hair at least, but speed wasn’t possible on busy main street.

“You look like you want to just break the pedal,” Blake laughed.

“If these commuters don’t get out of my way, I just might.”

Her husband’s smile dropped a little to a neutral position. “It’s fine, Diane, we can’t control traffic.”

She merely scowled, “If our laws were actually upheld, half these people wouldn’t be on the road.”

Blake didn’t say anything until they stopped near the food block, a famous stretch of street with the finest restaurants. A few new ones had settled in the spots of previous lackluster diners, those that just couldn’t cut it with the competition around them. There was one outpost that Blake eyed curiously, a large line that contained multiple different classes of people. Now that was odd. Most of the restaurants were either for those who could afford it or were cheap for the common paycheck. This particular restaurant somehow had country club men, parents with kids, influencers, high-end rich and even some people who he could have mistaken as homeless. Cybertronians, Velocitronians, and all other species of Transformer were among them. Everyone on the food block seemed to be at the new place.

“Maccadam’s Bar and Grill House. Huh, Kilograve once mentioned that there was a bar on Cybertron run by an older bot, Maccadam. Guess he decided to extend his operations to Earth. We should check it out one day for lunch or something.”

Diane sneered, “Please, it’s probably just a supped-up Applebee’s.”

“And you know this how?” He bit back, tired of his wife’s condescending tone.

She paused before making a shrugging gesture. “Okay, alright, fine...you want to go here for lunch. We’ll do it!”

Blake frowned, “I said maybe another-”

“No, we’re going to go today because I’m kind of curious too,” she said. “It’s what you seem to want so why can’t I want it too?”

As she turned into the car park nearby, Blake took off his sunglasses and rubbed his strawberry blonde hair with a sigh. Diane made sure her makeup was correct before sliding out of the vehicle, heels immediately clacking against the concrete to be by her husband’s side.

“Shall we?”

Blake stayed quiet but nodded. He followed the vicious woman in the baby blue sun dress as she held up the car keys, locking her Rolls-Royce from afar. They approached the grill house and the line had just started going down at that moment. They quickly took their places among the end and waited. As they did, Blake took the time to observe the exterior. Cybernetic as its owner with a somewhat Earthly feeling, crafted to appeal to humans without a doubt. He smiled at that. Within ten minutes as a few complaints from his wife, they finally went in and met a Dinobot Minicon at the kiosk. The Transformer-sized kiosk to the right were for them as well as any mixed parties of human and Transformer. A few parties were already shown to their seats by the tank-built host.

“Party of two,” Blake said nicely.

The Dinobot Minicon akin to an oviraptor grabbed two menus and nodded, “Follow me please.”

The grill house had three walkways, one for humans, one for Transformers and the middle walkway that webbed out under both was for the staff to maneuver around. Obviously, the building’s foundation had been redesigned to include a lower level than normal to allow such accommodations. Human-exclusive tables had two floors on the left side of the restaurant while Transformer-exclusive tables were on the right. Those with both humans and Transformers had a comfy setup in the middle that could be adjusted to fit any combination of peers. The infamous bar of the establishment was set up near the large kitchens with specialized catwalks and a huge table designed for all to drink and watch anything from human sports to the newly acclaimed cube sport that reminded Blake of Football but with better rules. A large Seeker and two human coworkers seemed to man the bar.

The oviraptor Minicon seated them next to an aquarium filled with Kaon Kropids, a native metallic fish-like species that lives in Kaon’s oil fields. The clear oil they endearingly loved helped show off their various colors.

“Don’t tell me we are going to eat these things,” Diane huffed.

Blake shook his head, “We can’t eat metal, Diane.”

She grew a little offended and immediately snapped, “I was being sarcastic. You do know what sarcasm is, right?”

He ignored her in favor of looking over the menu. Options for both humans and Transformers never looked so appealing and all were at a good price. He smiled seeing a fish and chips basket, said to be made with cod...not Kropids, and a side of seasoned fries with any extra side for a mere few dollars more. It honestly sounded good, just having a simple basket over expensive steak and caviar almost every other night. The Chef’s Specialty was also curious. Unlike the other entries, it held no notes on what it was but perhaps, it was just a combination of different portions of everything on the menu.

“You don’t mind if I have a few of your friends, do you?” He said jokingly to the nearest Kropid swimming by. It barely acknowledged him, instead puffing out its expandable tail fins like a beta to impress the other Kropids nearby.

“Hi,” a human server said as they appeared via a lift that rose from the staff walkway below their level. The lift looked huge but given it was also designed for Transformers, it was sensible to see a mere five-foot human step off a platform over fifty times their size. “My name is Cat, and I will be your server today. Do you know what you would like to drink?”

The server had a few interestingly placed piercings and the tip of a tattoo that could be spotted on their neck. Blake was curious as to what it was.

“I think I’ll have a Dr. Pepper today, Cat. Thank you,” Blake said.

Diane merely scowled, “Does this place have any wine?”

Cat nodded with a smile, and they grabbed the little menu Blake didn’t even notice next to the tank. As the server kindly went through all the options, Blake could tell his wife wasn’t pleased being talked to in a casual, cheery tone. The restaurants they always went to had uptight and silent servers who only spoke in “proper” languages. Here, Cat was nothing but lively and the fact they were so eager to make the experience as genuine as possible made Blake appreciate the job a bit more. He could only imagine how many people Cat had to deal with daily like Diane and still come back to work.

When Diane finally decided, it took everything in Blake’s power not to roll his eyes. He loved his wife but damn. He was quick to order a side of mozzarella sticks so Cat could get away from the demon in the dress and go to help other appreciative customers.

While Diane texted, Blake observed the grill house in full swing. People chatting, having a laugh and all was music to his ears. The restaurants they usually went to had little chats, not what this was. In a way, he was beginning to grow jealous of the people here. They may not have had what Blake and Diane could afford but they had something arguably more valuable, and he didn’t even know what the word could be.

Cat returned with their drinks and the mozzarella sticks before taking their order. He went quick and flashed them a sorrowful smile, hoping deep down they could see how apologetic he was of his wife’s behavior. When it came to Diane, she started asking all the fun questions.

“Is there anything on this menu that is not deep fried? What type of grill doesn’t have options for slim figures? Do I look like I want to gain weight in one day?”

Cat looked a bit distraught trying to find a way to answer all the questions being thrown at them at once.

“Honey, please. Just get a salad on the third section.”

“Please, the salad is probably from a bag they bought at Walmart.”

Cat laughed nervously, “No, ma’am, the salads are freshly made with hand cut produce daily.”

Diane smiled back maliciously, “You probably wouldn’t know real from fake if it bit you, especially those fake piercings. What are you? A cover for Guiness World Records?”

A few people from other tables seemed to be looking at the couple, whispering. Blake felt sorry for the server but in a way, he felt worse for himself. He wasn’t trying to be selfish but if Hell existed...Cat seemed appalled but hid it well. They put down their orders without another word and merely stormed off to the kitchen.

The mozzarella sticks were great; Diane didn’t share his liking.

“Taste like moldy socks. You call this mozzarella? I’ve tasted real mozzarella. This is not even close.”

“Breading blends with cheese different that crackers, Diane. Why can’t you just enjoy something different for once?” He whispered defeated.

“I was raised on class. This place is below me and it should be below you.”

“God forbid I like cheese sticks,” he sighed.

When their food came, Cat wasn’t smiling, and Blake couldn’t blame them one bit. They did, however, send him a small nod as if to say good luck. He took it.

Complaint after complaint, some drew the attention of the oviraptor host who happened to pass by with another party. Blake just kept eating without ushering a single word, following the server’s route of smile and wave through the pain. Finally, someone had told the manager what was up because standing on the lift with only the upper half visible to be at a comfortable level with the table was the femme in charge.

Cat returned and said emotionlessly, “Chef Firefang would like to have a word with you.”

“Tattling now, huh?” Diane said, “Grow up, but I’ll play your game.”

They followed the server reluctantly. Blake was nervous but silent still as they passed the kitchen where a few glares were sent their way from humans and Transformers alike. Into the back storage they were led, and the couple grew a bit unsure of their destination until Cat smirked as they turned around.

“He’ll be here shortly. Wait here please,” they said with a newfound smug aura.

Blake could smell something unusual. He knew they kept meat nearby but was some of it rotting?

“Great, we’re in a pig’s stable,” Diane laughed.

Blake finally snapped, “We’re going home. I’ve had it! You never like anything if it isn’t pricey. This place is great; it’s you who’s terrible!”

“How dare you speak to me that way! And for what, not liking some cheap, underwhelming grill?”

A third voice came into their conversation. “If you don’t like the food, perhaps I could offer an alternative meal.”

A red and orange Minicon came into view with his servos behind his back. He looked between the two, giving a wink and a smirk at Blake but changing to a scowl upon meeting the cold glare of Diane’s.

“Now, I normally don’t appreciate defamation of my food but against stirring up my restaurant and disturbing customers, I’d rather you insult the food than them. Fortunately, I can make everything better. I always do for all the customers who have issues, never once had a complaint afterwards.”

Blake was about to reply when he heard the door to the back being closed and slowly, Firefang’s expression changed on cue.

“You know, complaints as these rarely come and those that do complain, well, they only do it for one purpose and one only: because they want to. If it isn’t what they think a bar and grill should be, they are the most vocal.”

Blake said, “And we apologize for that.”

Firefang smiled, “Never said you were the offender, my dear. Speaking of, why are you married to this bitch?”

“Excuse me?!” Diane yelled. “Who the hell do you think you are?!”

“Tell me, dear, would you like something off the menu instead? It’s actually a specialty of mine preparing an alternate dish that I’ve never heard anyone complain about to date. It’s always a mind changer, that’s for sure. Would you like me to show you how I make it?"

Not wanting to be rude, Blake slowly nodded, “S-sure.”

He was becoming suspicious between Cat abandoning them near a meat locker and Firefang’s unusual demeanor when suddenly Firefang brought out a bloody knife.

“Allow me to get cooking then. But first, I need the main ingredient.”

When his attention shifted to Diane again, Blake had a horrible realization and so did she. He pushed her to run, and he followed.

They both sprinted towards the exit only to hit the door, and it refused to budge. Diane frantically tried to pound on the door only for Blake to notice just what it was made of. Cybertronian reinforced titanium, virtually soundproof. With the TVs at the bar going, the noise of talking tables, and the cookware from the kitchen clanging together constantly. No one could hear their cries.

Blake immediately tried to open the door to the kitchen which they had passed earlier, noticing that the cooks within were also trying to get them killed knowing Firefang’s response to rejection. The door was locked, and he had no choice but to grab Diane’s arm to try and hide.

“You know, it’s always the catered, rich, and privileged people who come to my restaurant and complain. I never heard of any complaints from the bar hoppers, critics or the casual diners. They love my food, but people like you ruin everything. So, why not get rid of the problem directly?” They heard Firefang say, closing in on their position.

Blake ran through the meat storage and stumbled into a half open door only to scream as he saw several dead bodies of humans in a corner frosted over. Some looked like they had been dead for a week or more. Many of them had pieces missing. One thing that remained constant between all of them was the fact that they looked like they were all wealthy. The clothes and the accessories told all. All of them must have complained; an unfortunate fate and dare he believe that Cat and the other cooks were in on the murders.

He heard footsteps nearby, realizing Diane was nowhere to be seen. Right now, he had to stay alive to find her. He fled out of the freezer before slowing to creep around a corner. Seeing a hiding spot among an old, sheeted table, he dived in and huddled close to the wall.

The part of the sheet that didn’t touch the ground was barely a few inches off the floor and he lowered himself to peek out only to spot Diane hiding behind a chopping block. Poor choice of a spot but it wasn’t like Blake could help her in his position.

Firefang’s pede came into view and he chuckled, “I hope you know I don’t do this for just anyone, making my specialty dish. I’ve had a few criticisms in the past, but they were genuine, so I would never harm them because I could tell it just wasn’t meant to be. But you went out of your way to judge my cooking just because, that deserves something more up close and personal.”

Diane was whimpering, a hand over her mouth. Suddenly, Firefang began sensing the air. Blake had forgotten Transformers possess a much better sense of smell than humans did and in a restaurant, human scents stuck out like a sore thumb.

The murderous Minicon chef crept forward, laughing. “Do you know how much those customers out there would pay to eat you? I bet they are just dying to select the option on the menu.”

Firefang’s servo tapped against the chopping block, head tilting towards the right a little as he sniffed. Fangs Blake didn’t really notice much were seen in a massive grin and a growl followed.

“Hello, bitch.”

Diane didn’t even have time to scream as a servo wrapped around her neck from around the chopping block and dragged her out into the open. Blake froze at first before immediately jumping to his wife’s aid by climbing out from under the table.

“No, take me instead!”

Firefang kept hold of her and slowly turned his head towards the human with amusement. “How noble, but you didn’t seem too keen on even being in the same room as her a moment ago. I’m no fool, pretty boy, you hate her guts and quite frankly, she doesn’t deserve you, and you know this.”

Blake looked between his distressed wife who was practically berating him for standing there not trying to save her physically and the serial killer who was quite tame for someone about to murder a woman, but he stared a bit too long at Diane. A part of him held no remorse for her. If he would admit it out loud, he somewhat wished she would die so she would just shut up for once in his darker fantasies. He wanted to at least address the issue verbally when Firefang took his silence as permission.

Blake pressed against the wall as he heard his wife cry out. Firefang stabbed her seven times while holding her still and he could only watch horrified. Her gurgling as blood from her throat drowned her voice made him look away as the Minicon continued to viciously impale her until she went silent.

Dropping the body with parts falling off from how shredded they were from the attack, Firefang approached Blake bloody and sneering. But to the latter’s surprise, the Minicon merely studied him again like he was expecting some sort of praise, not that Blake would give him the satisfaction of it.

“P-please don’t...”

Firefang smirked almost kindly. “I won’t kill you. You’re not the problem, but I can’t let you leave now that you know my little secret.”

“What are you going to do with me?” Blake whispered still against the wall shivering.

The Minicon went silent and pondered the question before tilting his head. “Would you like to have dinner with me?”

----------------------------

Maccadam’s Bar and Grill House was close to closing time. Blake had been there since 1 PM and he knew he couldn’t leave...ever. In his boredom and in the watchful eye of Firefang, he studied his environment and learned quite a lot.

Cat and Firefang were partners. They were his human companion, and it explained how Firefang knew who to choose as his victims. Anyone who disrespected Cat or proved being outlandishly rude for no apparent reason other than to be dicks would be targeted by the mad mech. They had both worked in the restaurant business for years with over five years for the Maccadam’s Earth chain; how many of them included blatant murder and possibly feeding customers their own species as a meal was unknown. Blake also found out that Firefang normally didn’t allow survivors; Cat mentioned in an off comment upon checking up on him that he may have attracted the Minicon. The fact that he was going to have to go home with both as well to keep the secret of the murders under surveillance also sucked. He could believe the liking towards him when he was seated at a private table in the back and served something suspicious.

Firefang purred as he revealed what appeared to be a fried chicken basket. He liked fried chicken too. But given the recent murder of his wife and talks of a specialty dish, Blake was all but terrified at the sociopath’s presentation of it. While he had the dish in front of him, Firefang sat at the other side of the table with just a cube of Energon, nothing fancy as Blake would have assumed he would do.

He refused to eat the food, staring at it now knowing what it most likely was. How sick and inhumane Firefang was made him question a lot of the food business of Transformer cultures. Granted, it was doubtful a grand majority would serve humans to other humans but the fact that the situation could exist was downright evil, yet Firefang didn’t seem that way. He only wanted to make customers happy. It was those who went out of their way to complain...like Diane...that sparked such malicious intent.

Cat walked up to the table despite the glare they received and smiled a bit sorrowfully. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way. We generally don’t go about killing people a whole lot. I’ve tried to convince him to take his rage out on the cow meat in the meat locker but he’s a bit, uh, malevolent when he’s pissed off.”

“Clearly,” Blake scoffed. “Why serve humans though? Killing is one thing but cooking them?”

The Minicon shrugged, “Meat is meat, dear. You think I’m just going to let it go to waste? Obviously, the dead bodies don’t need it anymore. Besides, do you know how many times we had to use Energon from the dead bots to keep up with rations in the war? We recycled it because Energon was becoming scarce and all our weapons, our bodies, and our functionality depends on Energon. Nobody thought anything of it because everyone knew. It was no secret of the suppliers, Autobot or Decepticon. You humans are so taboo over everything; you don’t even know what you yourself would be willing to do if you were starving to death unless you’re just incredibly stupid, then I can’t help you.”

“You’re insane.”

Firefang didn’t move from his spot, still smiling regardless of the comment. “Well, can’t please everyone but at least try it. I made it just for you, and no one has ever hated it, even the worst critics I’ve had come through my restaurant.”

Knowing he didn’t have much of a choice unless he wanted to be brutally chopped up and served to unaware people himself, he took a bite of the fried “chicken” and at first was mortified that he was going through with it. But, to his surprise, the seasonings and the breading itself made the abnormally pork-like taste blend well. For a second, he forgot what he was eating.

Firefang immediately noticed his expression change and laughed, “See?”

“It’s...it’s good. Really good...” he muttered trying to connect the dots of the situation in his mind. Now, he wasn’t even sure if he should be horrified or impressed.

“Think of it this way for humor’s sake: I presume you ate your wife out at least once; you’re just doing it again but now she can’t complain.”

The inappropriate comment made Blake pause before seeing the amusement all over Firefang’s face. He would have been disgusted had it not been a personal opinion that he kind of preferred this type of intimacy with his wife to what they did in bed. Diane ruined a lot of things; the sense of humor, albeit outrageous, was kind of spot on. Blake was starting to not care the more he thought about it.

“Your wife wasn’t good to you, was she?”

It was technically none of Firefang’s business, but Blake didn’t stop himself from replying. “No...is it wrong that I don’t miss her really? The silence you gave me...it’s the first time in forever I think I had peace.”

Cat and Firefang exchanged pitiful glances before Firefang had a neutral expression. “I guess you’ll have a lot of that now. Hmm, hmm hmmahahahaha! If you think about it, you’re eating away all the pain. And the bitch can’t do anything to you now! Ahahahahahaha!”

Cat tried not to smile at the irony to be respectful, and Blake was silent, peering between the Minicon and the dish in front of him. As Firefang continued to laugh, the human realized that he was going to be served his ex-wife's corpse for the next few weeks and he was going to be in Firefang’s care...forever. He wasn’t horrified anymore, but he was unfeeling. He didn’t even know how to react to it.

Firefang suddenly was hovering over him with another purr and sultry expression. “Since we now can get to know one another a bit better with all the time in the world given my shift for today is done, tell me, Blake, what’s your favorite food?”

Blake didn’t even move from his position as the Minicon watched him with what he could assume was a crush of sorts. First, the damn Minicon murdered his wife then fed him her remains and now he expected them to get closer? Blake knew that there was no escaping the killer before him. What was he to do? He loved Firefang’s food, sure, but now it was something out of his hands. Cat was no help in trying to reason for him, not that they could now that he thought about it.

It was a strange sense of irony, a blessing yet a blatant curse. He mentioned finally being at peace with Diane gone, but, in the end, Diane seemed to still get the last laugh. He could hear it from the disfigured corpse in the meat locker taunting him, scolding him. In a way, Diane ruined his life once more. He was now a permanent addition to Maccadam’s, forced to eat whatever this hell-born chef made him. Guess he got his wish to try the restaurant after all.

Chapter Text

The massive truck descended backwards on the slope of the beach with the boat as Stewart directed it and Cassie, his fellow crewmate, sat at the steering wheel of the vessel watching the rear. The boat started to lift off its trailer as it was pushed farther into the water until it began drifting away. Cassie started its engines once it was a safe distance away and drove it as close to the beach as possible without getting it stuck.

“All aboard! Whoot whoot!” She smiled.

“I didn’t know trains could float?! We’re coming, Cassie, Frank is parking the truck!” Stewart yelled as he laughed.

“Oi, don’t hurt my ship’s feelings! It wants to be a train badly! Maybe one day it will!”

Stewart clapped his hands still amused as ever. “Yeah? Maybe it’ll love traversing the sea floor! First ever ocean express!”

“Screw you,” Cassie smirked.

Frank walked from his parking spot on the beach to Stewart’s position. He then asked, “Are we ready to go, Skipper?”

The nickname always made him smile.

“Aye, mate, if my scanners are correct, the wreckage is beyond the two pillars of rock on the east side over there,” he said as he pointed to a rock formation a few meters offshore. “The owners of the vessel said that two years ago, the ship and all the crew disappeared fifty miles from this area, but no one ever found anything.”

“You think this is it?”

“Sometimes when ships are in trouble, they stop sending signals long before they go down, especially if there’s a malfunction in the system. If what I picked up on the sonar satellite is a ship, then there’s a chance it could be that lost vessel. It’s called Dawn’s Gaze, said to be in blue lettering and the boat itself is mainly white. White and blue are hard to see underwater or from a normal satellite perspective which is why they may have missed it on top of, like I said, the signal being at sea, not shore.”

As they were forced to swim a little before climbing onto the boat, Cassie had both feet on the wheel casually. “Took you blokes long enough. Having a fireside chat or something?”

“Shut up,” Frank said playfully.

Cassie stuck her tongue out in response before heeding Stewart’s gesture. “Alright, wrap it up, you two. Those pillars are where we will anchor.”

“Aye, Skipper.”

Cassie swung the boat around and headed to the pillars of rock standing among the beginning of a reef. They reached their mark in a few minutes and began suiting up with the bags of scuba gear they had placed on board before ejecting the boat from the trailer.

“Stew, you and Cass go in first. I’m going to stay and make some adjustments to my gear.”

Stewart patted Frank on the back and sat on the edge of the boat with Cassie. Both looked at each other before nodding and fell backwards into the water. Twisting upright, Cassie activated the commlink on her end.

“Keep the boat warm for us, yeah?”

Frank scowled, “See you in a minute, Cassie, so I can kick your wee ass.”

“First, you have to kiss it.”

The man shook his head muttering something as the two divers started to move down to the clusters of coral and fish among it. The reef was vibrant with the sunlight shining through the water. No trash and no evidence of human tampering impaired its beauty. However, they did notice a few misplaced species.

Various small Aquatronian wildlife swam with their organic counterparts, most likely a transport of the breeds from the planet itself accidentally released them or, worst-case scenario, the transport crashed with the invasive species growing as any other lifeform would.

That put a slight damper on Stewart’s hopes. What if the wreck was an Aquatronian ship instead? Not that it wouldn’t be a cool find but it wasn’t what he wanted. As they explored more of the reef, there was a faint outline several meters out that was slowly coming into view. Definitely a ship.

“Up ahead, you see that?”

Cassie answered, “Yeah, Skipper, I see it. Here’s hoping Dawn’s Gaze finally can see the light of day again soon.”

As they made their way towards the sunken vessel, they both heard a whale-like whine, high-pitched in nature. They looked to their left to see a pod of bottlenose dolphins and, surprisingly, Aquatronian daggerfins. Daggerfins were like Earth’s dolphins but covered in protective barbs against the various predators of their planet’s oceans. They heard the baritone booming noises of the daggerfins resonate through the water as one floated vertically before spinning rapidly. A small whirlpool appeared, and the dolphins eagerly rode the temporary current like it was a roller coaster ride. Once the underwater funnel dissipated, the dolphins gave a delighted cry to the daggerfins who equally shared their playful banter before taking off to parts unknown.

Stewart and Cassie reached the ship’s exterior, and the former ran a hand along the metal. “Dawn’s Gaze was supposedly a shark vessel, hunted swordfish and tuna also. This looks human-made; I think this might be it.”

Cassie said, “If this is it though, that kind of brings up another question. If they sank so close to shore, how come no one called for help? These ships over the past five years have had waterproof trackers and cellphones detachable from the console with days' worth of battery life. The crew was never found; no one called out from this location.”

The question was indeed a puzzling one. Unless there was a major accident that killed everyone on board, someone would have had the ability to gain access to a ship’s ingrained communicators and use one. The new question that was starting to form was now what made the ship sink in the first place?

Stewart followed the exterior to a noticeable end and upon seeing a faded tint of blue, he started brushing off as much loose algae and other formations as he could. The first thing he came across was the blue letters DA.

“This is it! This is Dawn’s Gaze! We found it! Can confirm blue lettering spelling D and A on the rear of the ship I believe.”

“Good job, mate, you want me to contact the company?” Frank’s voice came up on the comms.

“No, we need to find out why it sank now. Stand by.”

“Will do.”

Stewart and Cassie began to separate and explore the vessel to understand the layout and any oddities. As they did so, however, Stewart paused and slowly looked behind him into the blue and the reef nearby. Something felt amiss...but he didn’t know why.

---------------------

Frank played with his suit, noticing there was a dent in his oxygen tank. Scoffing, he tried to decide if he could just go to the truck and get a new one without Cassie yelling at him for touching her boat.

Suddenly, a shadow passed underneath him, and it caught the corner of his eye which he then paused what he was doing and looked over the edge of the boat curiously. If sharks were present, it was a fair concern. If they were hungry enough, they would attempt to nibble or overturn the boat if they got wise.

A splash behind him made him turn to see the tip of a fin disappear into the water. But what got him was the color didn’t look like the normal grey. If he was mistaken, it was a gold color. No fish he knew of had a gold hue, especially reflective...

The boat shook and Frank tumbled, breathing frantically. It was hit again and was forced to drift and rock out of control. He gripped the side hoping whatever it was would become disinterested and leave. When it became silent again, he peered around the water.

With a sickening crack in less than a second, the boat was abruptly bent in half, crushing Frank with a plume of water splashing upward as it was dragged under. Ripples in the ocean were all that was visible.

--------------------

As bubbles emerged from the slot of his mask, he saw a quick shadow pass him above. He immediately thought it was Cassie only to look around and find that she was not anywhere above or beside him but instead, he could see her fins as she was investigating the lower hull of the ship. Strange...

“Skipper, you might want to come down here,” Cassie suddenly said.

Navigating down the side of the hull towards Cassie’s position, Stewart lowered to be around her eye level. “Yeah, anything interesting?”

He soon paused with only the sound of his bubbles echoing in his ears when he saw exactly what she did. Claw marks, large and deep, had torn through the metal. It looked as though the ship never stood a chance and when they both scoured more of the hull half covered in algae and muck, it became obvious there were multiple claw marks riddling the exterior. They didn’t look recent as the metal caved in was just as covered as the exterior itself.

“Frank, something with big rippers sank Dawn’s Gaze.” The radio silence made Cassie look at Stewart concerned. He tried to contact his friend again. “Frank, can you hear me? Frank?!”

A dolphin’s whine made them look back to see a lone bottlenose crying out frantically.

“What’s that dolphin yapping about?”

Stewart said nothing as he watched the dolphin looking at them, seemingly struggling to swim right. He noticed immediately its tail was bleeding like something tried to bite it. Then it dawned on him. “Where’s the daggerfins and the rest of the pod?”

The dolphin was staggering in the water uselessly trying to go towards them when suddenly, it peered down. Both Cassie and Stewart followed when they instantly reeled backwards in shock as a large metal form snagged the dolphin, tearing it apart and scattering blood to spread around it. The dolphin’s cries were antagonizing to hear, forcing Cassie to cover the portion of her head gear over her ears.

A giant whale-like metallic tail flung the blood outward before swinging around among the red cloud. A pair of orange optics blared through as it cleared out and both humans clung close to one another as they finally saw the creature. A bluish-green mermaid-esque being with a bot’s upper half, covered in fins and donning a scaled fishy tail stared at them, visible fangs intertwined with each other like an anglerfish’s jaws. As a piece of the dolphin slipped off between its fangs, Stewart and Cassie tried to back away only for the oxygen tanks to hit the hull.

“What the bloody hell is that?!”

Stewart was in awe at the creature and stuttered, “I-I don’t know, but it doesn’t look very keen on telling us its life story. Go!”

The man pushed Cassie into the largest rip in the hull as the Leviathan lunged at them. He followed through and was seconds away from having his leg bitten off when the creature hit the hull hard. Sediment and muck stirred from the impact off the dead engine room equipment. However, the banging didn’t stop as growling was heard throughout the vessel.

Stewart and Cassie quickly maneuvered through the tight spaces trying to find a way to shore and lose their pursuer as they heard the hull being clawed through again. Stewart happened to see the claws breach and slice ruggedly through the metal determined to tear it apart.

“Swim! Go!”

“I’m trying!”

A bang from their right startled them as they moved up to the lower quarters. Various belongings were still among the ship but scattered in different directions. As much as Stewart would have loved to recover them, it was now crucial they survived above all.

They were swimming past a window when suddenly a burgundy-colored clawed servo barged through attempting to grab them. They both screamed, bubbles profusely leaking out, and pushed against the wall of the underwater room as it barely missed them. The hull threatened to cave as the new Leviathan hit its whole body against it. Once it was apparent it couldn’t reach, the Leviathan backed out and roared at them, fins rattling in anger.

Cassie quickly climbed across the wall to another room, but Stewart met the red optics of the beast hissing as it left. The optics contracted and he knew what it sought. Like a hungry shark, it circled the outside always watching, waiting for him to screw up and expose himself for attack.

“Skipper!”

Stewart snapped out of his trance watching the Leviathan when Cassie grabbed ahold of his arm.

“We need to move now! What do we do?!”

Hearing Cassie panicked and looking towards him for an answer, he found he had none. There was no way to make it to the surface, not that it would matter, and there was no way to reach shore against something abnormally fast like a torpedo. They were stuck in the ship unless...

Stewart grabbed Cassie’s arms and made her look at him. “I need you to listen closely. Swim to shore no matter what.”

“W-what are you talking about?! What are you going to do?!”

“You’re going to go to shore-”

“No, no, no, no!”

“-and go search for anybody who can help you. You are going to be fine-listen to me!” He yelled as she begged him, struggling against his hold. “This is out of our hands, Cass. Please, you have to go.”

The woman was nearly sobbing, “I-I can’t leave you. I won’t-!”

“But you must. It’s the only thing I can do to make sure you live. That’s what I’m the captain for, right?”

Cassie flinched when a few more hits to the ship’s exterior reminded them of the danger. She slowly nodded but not willingly. “Aye, Skipper.”

“I’ll miss you, Cassie. Now, we’re going to go up to the ship’s main deck and as soon as I make my move, you swim. Got that?”

She nodded again. Another bang from the burgundy Leviathan had them on the move as it hissed, following them even when they went into a blind spot. They navigated through the kitchen to the exterior where multiple nets and crab traps were scattered about. Many of them propped onto one another to form a makeshift maze that could aid in hiding the humans from being spotted but both knew the cages could collapse and crush them at any point in time.

Cassie and Stewart heard little movement or noises of the ship. That was a bad sign. Without knowing where their predators were, that left them open to-

A leviathan’s head snapped its jaws though a hole between the traps right above them. Both humans were crawling on the deck to evade the bloodthirsty creature as it bellowed. Then the cages above started to creak from the weight of the Leviathan.

“Move!” Stewart shouted through the comms.

He pushed her to be in front of him as they swam, narrowly missing the cages finally breaking free and blocking the safety of the interior of the ship. Swimming through the maze of discarded traps, their hearts were racing as they could hear the Leviathan crawling on top of the mess after them. They hid in a space under a broken crane used to help bring in the cages.

“Cass, after I go out there, I’ll lure them away and you go as fast as you can to shore. Ready?”

She shook her head instinctively.

He merely sighed, “Me neither.”

Stewart instantly swam out and through the cages to open water before diving towards the bottom hull again. As he did so, Cassie waited a few seconds as she saw two shadows going over her position after her superior before leaving and heading to shore.

Stewart looked back to see both the bluish-green and the burgundy Leviathans diving after him. He slid into the nearest open pocket of the ship and grabbed whatever he could reach. When the monster lunged at him, he swung a chair directly at its face making it reel back with a snarl before it was replaced by the other that furiously struck the side of the ship.

As the creatures tried to reach him, he saw between the crevices of their movements Cassie heading out. He was about to smile when the dark red Leviathan paused and seemed to trace his eye movement through the mask. He was shocked that it was smart enough to do so and as soon as it spotted Cassie with a hiss, he protectively shot out regardless of the consequences at the burgundy one.

Meanwhile, Cassie knew her oxygen tank was getting low as a warning sign popped up on her interactive goggles. She had just enough to get to shore but as she swam with all her might, she got a dreadful feeling and turned around just for a second.

She stared with a scream as Stewart was torn in half and each piece of him was devoured by one or the other Leviathan. Noting it was only a matter of time before she was caught, she swam with all her might towards the shore, past the reef that no longer was gleaming with its life that instead hid among the coral just as scared as she was. Shore was close now, so close she almost whimpered in glee until a Levithan suddenly whipped in front of her and growled.

It was a new one, a gold color with green highlights and optics. It bared its fangs at its prey as it floated in place to prevent her from leaving the water. Cassie tried slowly swimming backwards until she was grabbed from behind by another Leviathan that she couldn’t tell whether was smirking or just naturally had the mouth structure that could be mistaken as such. She tried desperately to wriggle out of its grasp, streams of bubbles pouring out from her fear.

The Leviathan merely snarled before taking off back towards the open ocean with her. The other followed and she gripped its claws helplessly a few minutes before it abruptly let go, spinning her in front of it. She felt dizzy but remained alert to the matter at hand. Breathing frantically, she watched the two Leviathans circle her like they were taunting her inability to leave, blocking any way out.

Cassie didn’t know what to do, but a weird noise around her started to grow. She got an odd feeling and peered downward only to gasp as she saw hundreds of Leviathans circling below her like piranhas, mirroring the two guarding her. She couldn’t tell how many there truly were, only that escape was impossible and there was an even large shadow far beneath the circling hive. It was hardly noticeable but there was an outline of something giant moving slowly down in the depths. Then she heard a deep roar the reverberated from said depths.

Sharks, whales and dolphins in the distance all seemed to be fleeing from the area as quickly as possible. The ocean sometimes had seldom life near the surface, especially as far out as she was with the Leviathans but that was an indication that this hive was feared even by the ocean’s greatest natural predators.

The roar sounded again, and Cassie peered back down only to find the vortex of Leviathans slowed and no shadowed figure was seen. That sent her into an even worse panic. She fled instead upward to the surface and breached the cold air. She waited a second to see what the Leviathans would do but none of them attacked. What were they waiting for?

A ship horn rang out and Cassie saw that the ship coming close was a fishing vessel. Frantically, she pulled out her mouthpiece and mask and screamed at the top of her lungs. But it dawned on her if a single Leviathan could rip through a ship’s hull...what would a swarm of them do?

A man happened to look up as she stopped screaming and instead began to yell out. “Leave now! Please! Leave! Save yourself!”

The man pointed and a few other crew members came to the side. They sounded like they were trying to call back to her but before she could decipher what they said, something brushed against her leg. The tip of a ginormous fin barely poked out of the water’s surface. Two more appeared behind her at the same time, all the same color. Slowly looking at the identical fins and following them as they crept towards the ship, she eyed the sudden shadow beneath her. All three fins came from the singular shadow, and it was only then that she pieced together that this wasn’t three Leviathans. This was their leader. The giant Leviathan beneath her was their queen.

The ship still pressed forward, and Cassie only held her breath when a massive Leviathan, larger than any Combiner or Cybertronian titan she had ever seen, leaped out of the water covering her in darkness as it blocked the sun briefly before slamming directly onto the unprepared vessel and toppling it with ease. The giant crest of its head almost looked like a natural crown, emphasizing its power and size in comparison to the Leviathans she had seen previously. It was like watching a god rise from the sea itself. As it sank back into the water with its colorful tail raised up and going down, Cassie didn’t see the ship rise and knew the worst had happened all in the span of a few seconds.

Placing her mouthpiece back on, she dived back down only to witness the swarm of Leviathans catching the survivors in their jaws as the queen dragged the ship down to the dark abyss with an echoing roar. Millions of bubbles and dead bodies littered the sea as the feeding frenzy continued. She was so preoccupied with the sight, she barely noticed the Leviathan behind her until she heard another roar.

Turning quickly, she found herself face to face with the same bluish-green Leviathan that had attacked them at the wreckage of Dawn’s Gaze. She stared into its optics, and it stared back into hers through her goggles.

Cassie shook her head. She didn’t want to die; she didn’t want any of her friends to die. She was crying but no one could see her tears. Helpless and pleading on deaf ears, she didn’t know what to do. Knowing her life was done for, she didn’t fight the water to try and swim anymore. She slowly sank as the Leviathan watched her give up.

“Skipper...”

In a flash, the only thing she saw last was rows of sharp teeth engulfing her and heard an ear-shattering bellow at the same time.

Chapter Text

Fifty million applicants. Peter had jumped at the opportunity to be the Decepticon Liaison, a position given to a human to manage their part of the Decepticon forces and keep relations steady. It was also an exclusive position to be Megatron’s human companion, trusted with secrets and codes no other was allowed to know. Who wouldn’t want the role?

While the Autobots let anyone join their ranks, the Decepticons were brutal about who joined them. Humans were selected with multiple qualities in mind. Strength, intelligence, and resourcefulness. Although that made the human soldier ratio against the Autobots lower, what they lacked in numbers they made up for in power and ultimately the weaponized deadliness of humanity. The human factor was the key to Autobot victory as the Decepticons had no allies; now, Peter was convinced if a war ever started again, the Autobots would not win because what set victory for them in the war could now be used against them with humans who were trained to kill Transformers as well as the Decepticons now gaining new allies every day due to one person.

The former Decepticon Liaison, a madwoman who left the Autobots, became a model ally and gained many followers among her own kind. At least one eighth of the world had switched to the Decepticon side because of her ability to not mince her words. The honesty alone built trust and that led to humans trusting her enough to side with her, even among a side of the Cybertronian empire that once tried to kill them ironically. Then there were the Dinobots. Grimlock was a sub-leader, overruled by a powerful Kanjian Dinobot who sided with the Decepticons instead of the Autobots. Grimlock had no choice but to obey or his Cybertronian Dinobots be destroyed, also convinced by the Decepticon Liaison to switch. The last advantage the Autobots had was the Space Bridge Nexus. Their master engineer and the original partner of the Decepticon Liaison had followed her to the Decepticon side. The Autobots were virtually defenseless now, but peace remained for Megatron had no qualms with them...so far.

Recently, it was reported the Decepticon Liaison was not in action. It was never specified why, some speculation being she had outlived her usefulness, but, then again, the identity of the Liaison was never revealed to the public. Only those within the private army, the Deceivers, specific Autobot allies and the bots from both sides knew truly who she was.

The Deceivers would be the toughest to convince to convert to a new leader. They were a group of human allies in charge of the army and companions to many well-known figureheads of the Decepticon empire. Twelve Deceivers and twelve Decepticon commanders within each section of the army, and they reported to the Liaison herself. Her disappearance opened the position and many among the Decepticon empire wanted to be top dog and operate the Deceivers. Out of all fifty million, Peter somehow got the job.

He was a master technician and hailed from Canada’s military. Aside from the obvious jokes of his heritage, he was an elite Brigadier-General and his father had been a Decepticon sympathizer for years until his passing. To achieve such a position would have made his old man proud.

Peter was stoked when he stepped on the forbidden Decepticon Island, a remote isle overtaken by the Decepticons off Japan’s coast where the Nemesis had crash landed years before. Unable to get it airborne, the Decepticons shooed the human inhabitants off and made it their home. Surprisingly, the animal life and the vegetation remained untouched by their more destructive behaviors.

He was surprised, if anything, that Megatron himself was there to greet him. “Peter Murray, is it?”

Peter gave a respectful bow and said, “It’s an honor, my Lord.”

Around Megatron, the twelve Decepticon commanders with the Deceiver leaders all stood formally at attention. He could tell though that the Decepticons weren’t impressed, and the Deceivers weren’t happy. If he remembered correctly, the Deceivers only went by their callsigns. Very few knew their real names but if he was to be their superior, he would learn each in due time when he proved his commitment to being the Decepticon Liaison.

“Well, Peter, I need someone who can master their greatest weaknesses, rise and conquer worlds. Achieve what no one else can. Do you think you can handle it?” Megatron asked.

Peter didn’t hesitate to nod, “Absolutely. I didn’t get to be a Brigadier-General by doing nothing.”

Although Megatron was still smiling, he noticed a small twitch and assumed that maybe they weren’t associated enough for him to be sarcastic. Despite the implied annoyance, Peter noted the Decepticon Leader was eager to get things rolling.

The duties and tasks of the Decepticon Liaison were told on point, what he could and couldn’t do without permission. The island was never to hold any Autobots, human soldiers had to be approved by not just him but Megatron as well, and there was no rank a human could get than liaison which was supposedly below a commander. As they walked the halls of the Nemesis, Peter caught that last detail that confused him.

“And, of course, the only bots that answer me alone are the commanders. Everyone else is yours to direct as you please but for nothing stupid as we’ve had in the past.”

Peter frowned, “Didn’t your previous liaison order them?”

Megatron seemed to fall back on his statement before quickly saying, “M-uh...she did...but that’s why I’m no longer allowing it. The commanders, she used them for things she shouldn’t have. I got careless and allowed her to continue until her recent departure. I hope you understand it’s nothing personal, but I must be a leader, not let someone else do my job.”

That made Peter concerned. What else did she take over she wasn’t supposed to? He pondered this looking up at Megatron until he slammed into someone. A human armored to the brim with Cybertronian metal and a helmet with a full covered faceplate with two red eyeholes made of a specialized polycarbonate material stumbled from the force. He assumed soldier-class, but the armor was a bit personalized, decorated with Cybertronian symbols unlike the regular human soldiers. Most likely an elite guard who was supposed to be a part of the Liaison’s private forces. Regardless, Peter was pissed.

“Watch where you’re going, soldier! Stand at attention; that’s an order!”

There was a second of no response but then they complied. They then said, “Sorry, sir.”

By the voice, he could pinpoint the soldier was a woman, a very snarky one by the tone too. “What were you so obligated to do that you failed to heed your superiors, soldier?”

“I was dragging dead weight out of my workshop, sir,” she said with a hint of amusement. “Kind of hard to work with a bunch of clutter in there.”

“Is something funny, soldier?”

Peter knew she wanted to answer with something sarcastic, but she wisely held her tongue. “Nothing at all, sir.”

Peter gave her one last look in disgust but peered into the room which she came only to see a green figure disappear around the corner. He thought he saw something blue as well but was frustrated enough by the soldier’s presence that he moved on regardless with Megatron who didn’t react at all.

When the tour was over and almost everything spoken of, he was assigned a berth room near Megatron’s own. Before he went in, however, he noticed the room across from Megatron’s. It seemed blocked off for a reason that was unclear. The sign above was partially covered, and it was a symbol, a Decepticon symbol with swords through it. An armory maybe? Kind of suspicious being so close to Megatron’s quarters where someone could murder him. When he retired for the time being, it still plagued his mind what could be in the closed off room.

The next day, Peter was quick to rise and meet with the Deceivers as he was apparently supposed to. He learned their callsigns quickly.

Typhoon, RPG, and Capitán were probably from military or something similar, different regions each. Their respective commander companions were Starscream, Lugnut, and Slipstream. Shackle was a scientist like Shockwave but had a nicer personality though Peter was skeptical his motives were any nicer. Lady Viola, a proper woman who looked rich with her evening dress, was, in fact, a DJ and Soundwave’s partner; it threw Peter off greatly.

Normandy has psychological issues thinking he was a World War II British officer despite not being remotely old enough. Funnily, Blitzwing was his partner. Morgue was Knockout’s partner, a surgeon, Apex the Korean boxer had Breakdown, and Syntax was a linguist with Nightbird as his companion. Playboy was an entrepreneur, Peter recognized, with Blackout as his protector. The last two were polar opposite people. Olokun looked as regal as a queen to her partner, Predaking, and Toto was...a girl with interesting taste. A blue husky-themed tail attached to her belt and matching fuzzy headphone animal ears with blue paw print stockings and blue paw fingerless gloves to match made her look like an anime girl...assuming she wasn’t already. Steeljaw was her companion.

The lively assortment of characters that were the Deceivers hardly looked his way. The youngest, Toto for sure, merely crossed her arms as he approached. Olokun, however, was the first to speak. With her eyes closed still, she pointed her staff at him.

“Make your intentions clear. Do not waste our time.”

Peter scowled, “That isn’t how you talk to a superior-”

“Superior?!” Apex scoffed, “Since when was that established, Gaejasik? You must earn that privilege. No title means shit to us.”

Olokun calmly opened her eyes and walked towards both as Apex growled at him. She put her hand up and Apex understood, giving a small bow before backing away. “The fact of the matter is this: we answer to the true Decepticon Liaison. To us, you are nothing and you will remain that way. The commanders will not yield to you as an equal; the Deceivers will not obey you as a leader. Prove us wrong and we shall see.”

The Nigerian woman stomped her staff before turning away as Normandy and Morgue sneered at him. Lady Viola, Typhoon, and RPG merely rolled their eyes while Capitán stuck her tongue out in mockery. Peter understood that as the leader of the Deceivers, Olokun’s words were law. If she despised him, the others would too. Since he was new, he indeed had to prove it to her and the others. The Decepticon commanders as well.

After the fiasco of the Deceivers, which was apparently seen by several Decepticons laughing their asses off, Peter groaned at the horrible start to the first day on the job. When he ordered them to stop laughing, all they did was smile with their fangs or flip him off, sometimes both.

He felt useless already. Years in the military where everyone obeyed yet no one even batted an eye towards him like he was one big joke. Even Megatron didn’t come to his defense when he asked what he did wrong on the commlink. The only explanation he got was to find his groove and stick with it or let them destroy him.

However, as he briefly retreated to his chambers, he passed Megatron’s quarters and surprisingly, the closed off door across from his was open. He knew it wasn’t his place to look but his curiosity was edging him to take a quick sneak peek.

The room was full of etchings on the walls like a psychologically damaged person had carved their madness across them. Torn up drawings of Autobots, some with knives thrown at them, lay uselessly around the room. But then he noticed there were extensions behind the first area. Going through the large doorframe to the next room, he gasped.

The lower level of the room had trophies from the Phase Shifter to the Dark Star Saber. The upper half barely seen was one giant bedroom...for a human. The bed sat on an overlooking balcony with a dresser that had seen way better years. Various musical gear, including speakers and a big computer set up displaying vivid colors as a screen saver, littered the upper room. Technology that should have never been in the hands of a human was perched on the walls and several weapons were scattered in a specific corner. It kind of looked like an edgy teen’s room but with a far deadlier sense of taste.

“What the-?”

“What are you doing here?”

The voice startled him, and he turned to see Megatron standing in the doorway. He expected to be chewed out, but the leader said nothing else. He didn’t even look upset, merely disappointed.

“I-I just saw it open and...is this the former Liaison’s room, if I may ask, sir?”

Megatron huffed and nodded though there was a slight pause like he was contemplating what to say. “It is. She was a collector, loved weapons and music most of all. Even at 31, she never let herself forget what made her great and I admire that. Sometimes, being a kid at heart helps do many things others are afraid of doing. I was cleaning up a bit in here to maybe...use it as something else though. I was going to move her stuff to a more secure setting. It doesn’t matter right now.”

“You were close with her, weren’t you?”

“I a-was. She was one of the only humans I could ever respect, the only one who ever bested me and stood against me. When I found out she was changing sides, well, you can imagine how surprised I was.”

Peter thought for a second before asking something risky. “Who was she?”

Megatron froze and then grew annoyed. “I think her identity is the least of your worries. Don’t you have things to do today?”

Peter was taken aback by the sudden hostility but didn’t argue. If there was one person he didn’t want to piss off, it would be Megatron. He left without any other questions.

The rest of the day was less interesting. Insecticons spat in his face, once literally, Vehicons and human soldiers present hardly cared about anything he said and yawned, the commanders did nothing of said insubordination like they too enjoyed the mockery, and, to top everything off, he ran into the same soldier he met the day prior. This time, she was drawing in the mud in a valley making out something he didn’t recognize, but he was angrier at the fact she was lollygagging than whatever she was planning.

“What do you think you’re doing, soldier?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know? Don’t you have someone to beat into submission or something, Brigadier? Isn’t the duty of the Decepticon Liaison to take control and lead, something you seem to be unable to do so I’ve noticed.”

Peter paused and growled, turning to her with utmost rage. “Why do you have such a disregard for authority?!”

The armored elite soldier merely laughed, “I don’t. I have a high disregard for idiocy and those who can’t back up their claims. You’re a Brigadier-General and you’re so used to people having to obey you or else get court-martialed. Here, no such rules exist. In the empire of the Decepticons, you must take charge and keep it by any means necessary. You obviously don’t have what it takes-”

Peter grunted, “It’s my first day; every private messes up once in their career.”

“Oh, but I disagree,” she said amused. “If you mess up here, you’re as good as dead and we can’t have a weakness in the army.”

Peter frowned and was about to ask what she meant when suddenly Thundercracker flew down and purred as she lifted her hand to pet the faceplate of the Seeker. Sunstorm and Dirge nearby both playfully chattered in Cybertronian, looking down as if to wait for her signal.

He then asked, “I’m sorry, who are you again, soldier? You don’t talk to me like that.”

“No one you care about...but maybe you should. I could show you how to make them obey you if you wish. It’s quite simple really.”

“And that would be?” He asked, now frustrated.

The soldier then laughed, “If I told you, that would be giving up all my tricks and I don’t think I want you of all people to know, Peter.”

Infuriated, he grabbed the neckline of the armor holding her close to try and intimidate her. “I grow tired of your mouth, soldier! I will give to the count of three to get your head out of your ass or-”

Thundercracker roared angrily at the sight and Peter froze as Decepticons relayed immediately the situation at hand. Each one quickly talked like a game of telephone. By the time he blinked, uncertain of what the soldier was playing at, the news had spread to almost every Con on the island. Hordes of them flew from the Nemesis and climbed down the landscape until both humans were being watched, surrounded by peeved Transformers everywhere.

He pushed the soldier away and pointed at her. “Arrest this scoundrel for disloyalty to the cause! She needs to learn respect or die!”

He felt proud saying that but after a moment, he frowned when he realized nothing was being done. He glanced around to see them staring at him and him alone. When he turned back to the soldier, she was already being flown up where several of the twelve commanders perched upon a cliff face poised and ready to attack. The entire time, to his confusion, the soldier was cackling.

She stumbled holding her abdomen as Thundercracker went near Starscream after setting her down. “The look on your face! Oh, classic!”

Peter shook his head, “What are you talking about? Get her! Do something!”

To his surprise, she then pointed at the distraught Brigadier-General. “Make sure he stays there, boys!”

The Decepticons hissed at him, some moving down a bit from their previous positions. Peter stumbled backwards as the Decepticons instead obeyed the unknown armored soldier. At first, Peter thought they were under mind control, but they showed no signs of it, no unusual behaviors aside from suddenly turning on him.

“What is this?!”

“You see, Peter, they respect me. It’s why they listen,” the soldier laughed. “Megatron hates humans, his Decepticons even more so, but I earned my place among them that no one ever dreamed to achieve. I proved myself and now, I’m the only human they will ever obey. You are nothing to them.”

Blackout snarled crawling down the rocky walls with Starscream and Thundercracker while Slipstream, Shockwave, and Soundwave lowered to her level like predators eager to kill on the ledge she stood on. Megatron, however, barely missed her as he stomped down his pede; she didn’t flinch nor did she look away from Peter, keeping her aggressive and commanding posture.

He realized, to his horror, this was the real Decepticon Liaison. She had never died, never left, and this was all a ruse.

Peter turned clockwise around multiple times as more Decepticons glared down at him from above into the small valley, red and purple optics tainting the darkness of the night. He felt tiny, even more than usual in comparison to the aliens.

“Funny, isn’t it? You had such high hopes to take my throne. Did you think I died? Did you think they would betray me?! I am the human factor, and this? This is our empire! Mine to command, Megatron’s to control!” The armored Liaison then gestured behind her. “Isn’t that right, old friend?”

Peter backed up as a green mech came into view, optics blue and standing out among the red haze. However, a Decepticon symbol was on his chest, the mark of treachery. He recognized the bot and froze, “Bulkhead?”

The big Transformer stood beside Megatron with little remorse for the situation. The Wrecker was not who Peter believed was the space bridge expert. He always thought it was either Wheeljack or Perceptor because both were rumored to have left to a “neutral” position and both their human partners were women of science. If Bulkhead was the one who defected...then the Decepticon Liaison was-

“Kill him!”

The Decepticon Liaison pointed at Peter again, and he had no choice but to run. He could take on Autobots but Decepticons, especially an entire legion of them, was beyond his skills. He skidded on the island’s mud when Starscream leapt at him. Thankfully, the mud caught the Seeker off as well making the latter miss a swing to grab Peter. However, Starscream had a far better recovery time than a human and swiftly pursued him, clawing at the ground like a deranged beast.

Peter slid under an arch as Starscream got too close for comfort. Upon hearing the Seeker get stuck, he smirked in his brief victory. It was short-lived when he heard footsteps above. He peered up as he ran to see several Decepticons running up on the ridges matching his direction and aiming to head him off where the valley ended. He couldn’t slow down with the noise behind him growing but he looked to his left to see the Nemesis sitting on the mountain. The space bridge could be operated easily by a human, it was just a matter of getting to it.

Making up his mind, he dipped from his path and headed straight for the ship. He used his small size to make sharper turns as he entered the cave system that was reworked to go up to the Nemesis itself from underneath.

Shockwave suddenly appeared behind him growling, rock falling from the ceiling when he slammed into the side of the cave entrance. The red glare of the singular optic had Peter frantically trying to out-maneuver the mech. He aimed back with his gun out and fired upon the scientist. Shockwave seemed wise to his actions and dodged most of the shots without skipping a beat even when the human aimed for crucial areas. That left Peter in dismay. They knew his tactics too.

Peter took a sharp right and Shockwave slid, whacking his helm against the wall with an animalistic snarl. When he was out of sight, the human navigated the caves fearfully. This wasn’t like facing the Autobots he had killed; this wasn’t the same as them attempting to reason with him or Peter getting the advantage over hesitance of human hunting them. The Decepticons were far more vicious than he could have imagined, and he was among the entire hive.

“Peter!” The Liaison’s voice cackled throughout the cave tunnels, “Where are you, Peter?! Having fun yet?!”

When he reached an open pit, he looked up to see the Nemesis’ entrance attached to the rocky platform above. Moss and Energon grew like a plague among the cavern as moisture from condensation built on the ship from the altitude leaked down the walls.

Suddenly, the sound of a buzzsaw alerted him and he had mere seconds to dodge it coming down. Knockout growled as it got stuck in the ground when Peter moved. Swiping his claws angrily, however, Peter failed to move back in time. The human cried out as his side was struck, three gashes ripping through his armor and into the flesh itself. But he knew he couldn’t stop and tend to himself. He had to keep moving to stay alive.

As he ran up the rocky path up to the Nemesis, he heard a rumbling from below. He nearly jumped as Devastator appeared from the chasm below, several red optics glaring at him as he continued. The neon green and purple Combiner roared, baring sharp fangs as dust and other materials were pushed into a cloud of debris by the force of his voice. Then the Combiner raised his arm.

Determined to kill the human, Devastator brought his arm down upon the rocky pathway, shattering it. Several pieces fell into the chasm while the rest of the path started to break apart. The hit alone made Peter stumble, and he felt the ground becoming unstable. The natural pillars that held the pathway up each broke one after the other leading to more sections of the pathway to crumble. Peter ran as fast as he could with his injury. He was so close to the metal lift of the Nemesis that he was determined, adrenaline kicking into overdrive.

Right as the path broke beneath his feet, he jumped on the platform. By some miracle, he made it when the distance felt longer which surprised Devastator and himself. He glanced down to see Devastator destroy a formation in the cave in rage but was too far down to grab him. Another roar echoed among the cave, shaking loose stalactites and Peter instinctively flinched even if the lift was out of range.

As the lift was activated, he breathed a sigh of relief only to jump back as Megatron was instantly on the exterior, causing the lift’s shaft to rock with hideous creaking noises. Snapping his jaws, Megatron nearly caught him. Peter was so afraid the mech would eat him, and, in a way, that wasn’t out of the question yet of the potential ways he could be killed.

“We haven’t discussed the immediate terms of your retirement, boy. Come here!”

The human was forced to navigate around the lift as Megatron crawled up and around it in pursuit, forced to shoot at the mech in the hopes of nailing the bastard before the lift reached its end point. To make his terror grow tenfold, Seekers, Vehicons, and a plethora of other Cons were crawling on the walls and up the lift.

When the lift reached its dock, the horizontal doors shut on Megatron and the others. But in the same second, multiple hits at the exterior of the door sounded with some metal bent upwards from a few good punches. He knew he had only one chance to leave. Peter spared no time in running down the halls of the Nemesis. He could hear the doors of the lift being torn apart with Megatron’s roar following.

A sudden pain in his right shoulder made him scream and fall to the ground. He gasped as an Insecticon hissed crawling towards him on the ceiling. Little holes within its mouth contracted before a barb was sent flying at him. He rolled to move and swung himself upright before firing at the beast. The gun shots hit the sensitive wiring among the neck and the Insecticon screeched, backing away to paw at the damage. As it did so, Peter winced as he quickly pulled the barb out and ran again.

The Nemesis was like a maze, twisting and turning in every direction. He felt blood soaking his clothes thoroughly. He couldn’t even name the pain he was feeling as he realized the barb had a type of poison, slow acting but targeted the nervous system instead of the slimy spit of the previous Insecticon who mocked him. He could feel every fiber of his body trying to fight it. His legs were growing weaker, unable to move in long strides. His arm attached to the impaled shoulder was limb and the claw marks that shredded his side were becoming unbearable.

Peter was almost out of breath. Years of military service and building himself into the proud Brigadier-General he was supposed to be wasted. He could hear the entire ship crawling with Cons searching for him. He couldn’t escape; they were closing in on him painfully slow. He went into a storage room in the hopes of buying himself some time to recover or at least hide if all else failed.

“Peter, we know you’re here,” her voice called. “Are you scared? Are you feeling helpless? Good, we like that.”

The echo of the room made him press against the wall of the storage cell, his wounds aching from the strain of the maneuver.

“I suppose I owe you an explanation. Bulkhead and I? We left the Autobots behind when all they promised wasn’t enough. Optimus’ spark was in the right place, but Megatron was a tough bastard, one I couldn’t help but admire. I struck a deal to learn and by doing so, I became the master of the Decepticon legion. Years of gaining their trust and doing what no human in existence ever could!”

He slowly walked around once he believed the origin of the voice was resonating from the other side of the room to try and find an exit while watching every angle.

“I created the Deceivers, the human team leaders. My new friends were so much better than the old, each partnered with a high commander of the Decepticons. They served me well. You would have made a fine team leader, Peter, but I’m afraid tryouts are unavailable.”

He found a vent and tried to pry it open.

“We are unstoppable, but loyalty from my followers and troops...I faked my demise to see how many of those idiots would line up for my spot, how eager they were to take what wasn’t theirs. I chose you, the best of the best, to take my role just to see how you could handle it, my amusement for the day. Fifty million fools. Congratulations, Peter, you’re the lucky winner, the ultimate jester. And I have a special prize just for you...”

Peter could hear the whispers through the walls from the searching Decepticons, hissing and cackling like hyenas. It made him think they were watching the whole situation unfold. Soundwave was probably broadcasting his misery.

“Peter,” a whisper said.

He blinked and whipped around only for his breath to hitch as an axe sank right into his chest. He barely registered a sickly grin as he truly saw the Liaison face to face. Holding the handle with venomous green eyes, Miko laughed as blood ran down his abdomen. Her hair in a messy bun with purple-pink streaks, the woman showed fake pity as she placed an armored boot on the side of his chest and kicked off him to rip the axe out. He sank to his knees, grasping at his chest unable to speak.

Miko placed the axe handle on her side with a smirk. “How do you like my little gift? I know an even better one to give to my boys just waiting to see you.”

Just then, he heard a growl and wheezed fearfully as Megatron stomped through the door as it opened snarling with Bulkhead grunting animalistically pushing past the warlord. Upon seeing them and Miko barely glancing back, the giant silver mech revealed his fangs and shook his head wordlessly before kneeling as Miko reached up. Bulkhead trotted over and went to the other side. Peter watched Megatron and Bulkhead rest their chins in her hands, rubbing their cheeks against hers as she whispered cute things like one would to a pet. The fact that Megatron had no problems with the gesture solidified the fact that she was indeed in charge.

Megatron just stared at his dying form maliciously while Bulkhead merely scowled at him, occasionally softening their features when she nuzzled them. They both purred when she said, “My precious babies, Mama’s got him right where she wants him. In fact, why don’t we bring the rest of my darlings out to play.”

She gave out a whistle, a specific short tune, and he heard all the noise around the ship die. The only thing that was heard for a brief second was the creaking of the ship as Megatron and Bulkhead stood back up. Suddenly, the ship grew loud again with all the movement heading towards them. Shooting through the doorframe and crawling among the walls, Cons of all types circled until they surrounded the man with Miko adjusting the axe so she could instead lean on the handle carelessly.

“Ten years it took to get where I am, Peter. Ten years of working my way up the ladder with everything against me. They always said I was insatiable, a liability, and just a reckless idiot...and look where it got me. The Autobots couldn’t appreciate my talents, but the Decepticons could. I would tell you that if you tried, you could be up here too, but I think it’s funnier just to kill you. I don’t need any competition. And what’s the world come to? I can’t have anyone dethroning me. Hahahahahahahahaha!”

Kicking the axe head up into a swing upright, she raised at a side angle.

“Personally, I think the best prize for my boys would be to enjoy watching you bled to death, but I’m not the giving type.”

Peter was silent, unable to move and unable to stop her. He barely closed his eyes when she brought the axe down with a sinister Cheshire grin. His head was sent flopping onto the floor of the Nemesis as his body came crashing down with blood oozing from it rapidly.

“Smooth,” she snickered. Miko grabbed his head by the hair and gave a humorous frown. “Aw, our poor temporary Liaison lost his head.”

She then used her free hand to make his mouth laugh mockingly. The entire room of Decepticons cheered and cackled at her jokes including Megatron and Bulkhead. They continued to howl in laughter even as the puddle of blood grew larger, and the body twitched.

-----------------------------

Maria was surprised when she got the news that she had been selected for the position of Decepticon Liaison. The Russian captain was quick to pack her things. Decepticon Island was home to the empire itself, its Earth operations, and all the Deceivers with their selected armies. She was eager to step on the soil of the forbidden isle.

Waiting for her was Megatron, the Deceivers and twelve Decepticon commanders. Little did she know she wouldn’t be leaving the island as the real Decepticon Liaison watched from above as the bots welcomed her next prey to her doom.

It was time for the game to begin anew.

Chapter Text

“OMG, you guys are not going to believe what I have!” Sadie said excitedly.

Lindsay and Stella both looked at her in surprise when she burst into the room. When she held up passes with nothing but a giant smile on her face, her friends knew the same as her what it was about. They all squealed in joy, jumping up from the couch and hopping up and down.

“You didn’t, Sadie! How did you get them?!” Lindsay asked loudly.

The brunette cockily put a hand on her hip. “My boyfriend’s cousin is one of the stage boys, worked with Blaster and the crew for three years before he left but still has contacts. We’re VIP, bitches!”

Stella gasped, “No way! VIP, as in we get to meet Blaster himself?!”

“And Ramhorn. And Steeljaw, Rewind, Stripes, Playback, and Eject.”

Lindsay stroked her blue-tipped black hair giddily, “Ramhorn’s my favorite. He once beat Adam Rupp in a beatbox battle and played drums beside many famous bands!”

Stella scoffed, “Yeah, but Ramhorn’s Cybertronian. Transformers have a larger vocal range than humans, so that’s not as impressive as Rewind rocking with Keith Richards. Keith retired a few years before and Rewind managed to convince him to do a rock n’ roll tribute in Blaster’s Badlands Tour. Rock legends around the world would have praised Rewind for carrying the genre beyond Earth.”

Sadie peered at the blonde girl laughing, “DJ Dinobot, Soundwave, and Bombastic Beatrunner all contributed to spreading Earth’s music as well so I wouldn’t credit to just Rewind or Blaster.”

Lindsay smirked, “DJ Dinobot, huh? I heard she left-”

“She’s on maternity leave. Divindiva will return but with three new little ones. I think she’ll be a great mother, certainly no boring moments in her household and would throw awesome birthday parties.”

“I keep forgetting her real name is Divindiva...” Stella said bemused.

Sadie interrupted, “Well, I have the best tickets and the backstage passes to Blaster’s Blastoff Fest in Detroit in two months, so you can ask Rewind or Ramhorn anything to your heart’s desire.”

-------------------------

Multiple calls to their job to ensure they had the five-day vacation set around Blaster’s three-day festival was a chore, but all three women managed. The flight over to Detroit was swamped with people who had the exact same idea. Nearly the entire plane was nothing but festival freaks, and the women were ecstatic.

The first day of their vacation was touring the city itself. Blaster’s promo videos were nearly on every jumbotron and electronics store. Posters were plastered in every stop open. With the influx of so many people, the stores were all filled to the maximum occupants with nearly every employee in the payroll on the schedule to meet demand.

News crews from many channels across the country as well as other countries were prepared to cover the fest. Being as popular as he was, this was no surprise. As they walked the main street of Detroit into the plaza where the Allspark Tower stood dwarfing the city, the three friends took selfies and group pictures to their pleasure before stopping by a Starbucks.

“Okay, I know we shouldn’t be planning ahead and all but after this fest, can we think about one day going to the annual Music Battle Mayhem concert too?” Stella asked. “Imagine seeing Blaster verses Soundwave verses DJ Dinobot verses Bombastic Beatrunner live! That’s said to be an epic show. Every year it’s done in Memphis, Tennessee, and I would die happy if I ever went! And their companions will be available to meet as well. I heard they do their own battles as part of the show and all the Minicons have a riff-off.”

Lindsay pointed at friend while holding a coffee, “That would be amazing to see. I think we should do it.”

“Ladies, first thing’s first though: let’s survive this fest then we'll discuss it later,” Sadie said.

As they walked the city with their sunglasses on, shorts, and designer shirts, they saw a crowd of people toward the far corner of the street near a cookie venue. Cameras were flashing left and right as the girls got closer. They nearly dropped their remaining coffee when out stepped Playback and Stripes with a pack of Energon chocolate cookies, smirking at how the paparazzi cared about something as mundane as eating. Then behind Playback strutted Ramhorn.

The red and yellow rhino Minicon pranced across the street with the media following before converting from a quadrupedal stance to a bipedal stand, placing his paws on his hips. His tail whipped eagerly as he was bombarded with questions.

“What’s it like working for Blaster? Is he a fair employer?”

Ramhorn waved and gestured calmly in a baritone voice, “Yes, he is. If he wasn’t a good host, don’t you think we would have split from him by now? It’s always fun working with him; I can’t imagine a better time in my life. Playing the drums for his band and overseeing the percussion layout is a very great gig, love every second of it.”

A young fan came up and Ramhorn noticed him before the teen began beatboxing to Rap Metal by City the Mask. The rhino smiled and bobbed his head to the gracious beat, getting into the boy’s taste for music and as soon as the kid finished, he laid down his own beat of the song. Everyone, including the girls, was amazed at how accurate it sounded. His voice managed to create a tune that appeared like he had four different rhythms of the song in his arsenal yet only came from his mouth. It was almost like hearing a heavily remixed version of the song itself. When he hit the last beat, everyone applauded before he reached down to sign an autograph for him and waved proudly as the stoked teen went back to his friends high fiving him and complimenting on getting Ramhorn to participate.

“Never stop, kid! Talents like that take you far!”

The three girls watched him talk to the media for a few more minutes before turning his head towards them. He gave them a smirk before nodding and walking away to help his fellow Minicons escape the paparazzi ambush.

Sadie yelled out, “He smiled at us, did you see that?!”

Stella and Lindsay were both shocked at it, and that’s all they talked about for hours, even when they made it to the hotel. Some of the staff in the lobby almost kicked them out when they wouldn’t shut up about it.

The next day was when they went quiet because they were focused only on making themselves look presentable.

Sadie went in short shorts and a fan shirt of Blaster’s previous album, The Starlight Express. The brunette put her hair up with small braids intertwined with the rest of her hair straight and down past her shoulders. She wore blue vans with an ankle bracelet spelling her name on her left leg. Hooped earrings were a must for her

Stella wore a red crop top with fake jewels spelling out “Princess of Being Pretty and Partying” on the front. Pink shades, pink heels and jean pants with multiple holes in them, she was ready to rock the scene with her stylized blonde hair in a bun and ponytail trailing off it.

Lindsay had on a shirt with a portion of the center cut out in the shape of a V, half-covering her breasts. With bracelets and rings, she wore skin-tight shorts with black embroidery and black heels. Her ears were pierced up the rim with various silver and black ornaments. Her black hair with blue highlights looked stunning curled and hanging down.

The three girls hung out all day until midafternoon when the Blastoff Fest was about to start. On the outskirts of the city lay a giant stage built for Transformers almost as big as a hundred feet tall. Designed for the best music experience, the whole stage was set with Blaster’s signature red and yellow colors. Nearly two million people covered the fields and city in attendance of it.

They managed to find a bouncer and the table designated for the Ultimate VIP section after heavy maneuvering. Showing off their passes, the bouncer and the clerk let them in after verifying the numbers attached. They were escorted in a private line up to the front to have a direct view of the stage along with several other girls who greeted them with kindness, just as excited and eager as they were to see Blaster and his band live. Isolated from the rest of the crowd, they cheered as the lights redirected to the stage with a musical buzz.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Please give a grand welcome to your hometown DJ and music master, Blaster!”

The crowd grew over fifteen decibels in one second. From the side of the stage, Blaster himself appeared. With his orange visor shades up and his charming blue optics scanning the crowd, he gave a chuckle. “How’s everyone doing?!”

Sadie, Stella, and Lindsay jumped at merely hearing his voice. They watched him, not daring to take their eyes off him as if they would miss a crucial moment at any second. As he spoke to the crowd, they were listening with heartfelt sighs. Then he gestured to the side and introduced his Minicons. Playback, Rewind, Stripes, Steeljaw, Eject, and Ramhorn all appeared to go immediately to their designated places among the band before waving out. Ramhorn even gave a few beats on his drum set to get the audience even more pumped up, sticking his glossa out mockingly.

It didn’t take long for the music to start with Blaster taking his position at his DJ controls. The booming beat that followed was intoxicating. Everyone was jamming with girls jumping happy as they could be. The audience even started moshing pits as the timing fit the remix Blaster had going. With Rewind and Eject on guitars, Playback on bass, Steeljaw manning the keyboard, Ramhorn on drums, and Stripes in charge of the electric station, the festival was a raving success.

They played their most infamous songs like Psycho Beat, Raven, and Starlight along with a few remixes of their own design of existing songs from other artists. Each Minicon was having the time of their life as Blaster sang and used the screen on his chest to relay various versions of the beat to drive the audience wild. After ten songs, one after the other they all went nuts for, the band took an intermission break.

With the Ultimate VIP passes they had, the girls found that during the breaks and after the show was when they could have the exclusive option to meet the band and Blaster. With two fifteen-minute breaks within a four-hour period, the girls were guided in groups of six with the other VIPs to the backstage and Lindsay almost fainted when she turned a corner and almost bumped into Ramhorn.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

Sadie and Stella were silent as Ramhorn had flinched a little but grew a nice smile.

“It’s alright; it happens.” He then recognized the three of them. “Hey, weren’t you three the chicks I saw on the street after I beatboxed with that kid?”

Sadie nodded quickly, “Yes, and you were amazing, might I add!”

“Oh, thank you, baby,” he said smoothly. “I love vocal battles and doing it for simple fun. It’s one of my hobbies, believe it or not. I don’t beatbox on stage, so the interactions are what really inspire me to keep the skill up to par.”

“Look at Ramhorn, the animal always trying to sound so thoughtful,” Eject teased.

“Shut up,” the rhino Minicon growled harshly, swatting the blue and white bot’s arm before resuming a kind smile at the girls. Despite having big paws like an Earth rhino, he gripped a pen carefully and asked politely, “Would you like me to sign your passes? I can tell you want something of mine. Unfortunately, I don’t have many items I can spare except my signature.”

Stella was fast and presented her pass eagerly. Ramhorn laughed and put his name in sloppy cursive on it before noting the jeweled writing on her shirt. “I love that shirt. Hey, Playback, I found your shirt!”

Playback started signing the other girls’ passes when he looked over. Upon seeing Stella’s shirt, he sent Ramhorn a glare. “You better watch out while you recharge. I will write that on your chest, Drummer Boy.”

Snickering, Ramhorn went to Sadie next as Stella waved at Steeljaw who came up curiously. Signing her pass, he didn’t expect her to lean towards him and kiss his cheek. He leaned back a little, not out of disgust but pride as he pointed the pen at her with one brow raised.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish, babe.”

When he got to Lindsay, he paused a second to see if she had the same idea before signing her pass. But right as he was putting the pen aside, she asked, “Can you sign my chest too?”

The horned Minicon paused and was at a loss for words when she didn’t hesitate to push down the sleeves of her shirt to open the V of the center wider. Despite being a head taller than her, he peered down at just the right angle and said nothing distasteful about the good view. He tried to speak again but he was still lost, unable to look away.

“Thank Primus I never mated, and those are real too...any specific side of the family?”

Lindsay merely smirked, “Mother’s side.”

Ramhorn gave a thumbs up and said to the side without looking away, “I’m, uh, going to need a large sharpie. I don’t think what I got is going to cover shit.”

A bouncer, who for a second was staring at Lindsay himself, brought Ramhorn the bigger pen and the rhino tilted his head before heeding the request of his fan. He went slower and smiled as he knew she knew what he was doing it for. The warm metal of his claws and wrist made her gasp which he merely chuckled at. When he was done, he still retained his amusement as she slipped back into her shirt, now with his signature across her chest in large cursive like a tattoo.

Eject and Playback had been staring for a while, ignoring the other girls and Ramhorn caught them. He merely said, “Get your own.”

After Playback flipped him off, Ramhorn turned back to the girls. “Well, fifteen minutes is almost up. Maybe after the show, we’ll see you around? Blaster will love to meet you.”

Sadie blew a kiss. “Count on it.”

As the festival progressed, the girls eyed the Minicons the most. Ramhorn was the most popular of them all, drumming loud and proud to the rhythm of Blaster’s well-loved instrumental song, Boom Master, which featured heavy bass and drums. With the speakers on the side of the stage roaring and Blaster’s own shoulder speakers vibrating, the whole world felt like one big rave.

The girls were mimicking Ramhorn’s movements as he rocked alongside Playback and Stripes with Blaster keeping the sound tight and added his own vocal flare to the mix, his orange visor shade down over his optics and pulsing in various patterns along with his unlimited energy.

Steeljaw changed his keyboard to a stylistic synthetic sound and transitioned into a bop that had the crowd cheering as they realized it was a remix compilation of Journey and Van Halen, a small tribute to older rock fans. Ramhorn seemed overjoyed as he flawlessly kept to the beat, and the girls assumed he loved Earth’s classic rock.

They didn’t know how long they had been grooving as ten songs passed. Not once did the three girls lose their excitement as to what they hoped was to come. After the show finally ended, as the other VIP guests showered the band in praise, the girls waited until they were in the clear and came back to see the Minicons. This time Blaster was with them who they could tell the smaller bots looked up to greatly.

“Stella, Sadie, and Lindsay, I have to say it’s a pleasure to meet our number one fans,” Blaster smiled. “Ramhorn has told me all about you and the signings...although, I heard someone got a little extra.”

Lindsay pointed to herself proudly as the other two girls laughed alongside Ramhorn and Steeljaw. Eject clapped his servos cackling.

The Autobot nodded, “Well, it certainly didn’t deter Ramhorn’s performance one bit. In fact, I think he did a bit better than normal.”

Playback was nearly dying as Ramhorn sent his boss an amused scowl. “It’s going to be like that, huh?”

Blaster then addressed the girls, “I’ll be sure to send you three some exclusive merchandise tomorrow. Now, we must go check in at our suite building we rented out for our stay, but you’re welcome to join us.”

The women didn’t hesitate to take the offer and within thirty minutes, they were riding in a limo assigned to the Minicons. Blaster drove in front of the limo and followed two police cruisers as they left the festival grounds with thousands of fans lined up and waving. While they sped up to escape some of the fans that chased after the limo, Ramhorn started beatboxing to himself in the tune of Eminem’s Godzilla.

When Ramhorn caught Lindsay staring, he tapped his horns along with a final beat to end the song. Making her smile made him chuckle back, and he wagged his tail happily.

At the same time, Rewind eyed Sadie and smirked, “So, uh, you girls ever stayed with any other musicians?”

Sadie shook her head, “No, this is the first time ever we’ve done this, but we are so honored to be here.”

Eject merely said to her left, “Oh, the honor is ours. Not every day we get to be with three lovely ladies like yourselves, ain’t that right, Steeljaw?”

The Lionator nodded with a purr. “It’s true.”

Stella then leaned into Playback. “Do you mind if I ask if you ever, you know, had fun with your fans?”

Eject and Rewind looked at each other as Ramhorn caressed Lindsay’s hips as she moved closer.

“Oh, that’s for us to know and you to find out,” Playback answered.

When they reached the suite, they found the building was like a giant house with a private amphitheater and various rooms built for humans and Transformers alike. They could only imagine how much it must have cost to rent one of the buildings.

Blaster then said, “You girls are welcome to anything in the suite. While you and my band get settled, I’m going to be working on a project in the amphitheater. If you here music tests and sound checks, that’s me.”

As Blaster walked off, the three girls didn’t mind as they were led to the lounge area. Stripes and Steeljaw were the first to take their positions on the corner couches while Playback relaxed on the sofa closest to the door before Stella sat beside him, which he all but encouraged by whispering sweet nothings to her while she put a hand to hold his chin.

Sadie had the attention of Rewind and Eject, talking of how she became a huge fan of their work while the black and white Minicon smirked with interest before making his own comment. Eject remained silent but Sadie coaxed him into responding by sliding a hand over his thigh plating. He responded by giving her a playful warning reaching over and caressing her shoulder and neck.

Lindsay and Ramhorn watched both their groups intermingling as the latter sneered, “Shameless.”

“But what about you? Don’t you want to have some fun?”

The question wasn’t innocent, but he didn’t have an answer good enough to show his growing lust as she reached behind his head to scratch his ears, twitching away naturally to any foreign touch. When she leaned closer, he coughed.

“Maybe we should take this elsewhere, my dear. After all, I’m not one to share,” he said with a possessive growl deep in his throat.

Lindsay let him guide her through a set of doors and walked down the hall until she stopped midway. He peered back at her concerned until she began removing her shirt and only then did he realize what she wanted to do. Despite being open to anyone walking in on them in the middle of the hall, Ramhorn wasn’t opposed to the opportunity.

He grunted with eagerness as she revealed her breasts and his signature to boot. Purring, he closed the distance between her as she threw her shirt down and carefully slid his paws across her body, down to her abdomen and then back up again. He nuzzled her neck with darkened yellow optics.

“I never thought I’d be here with you. It’s like every girl’s dream. But I hope you can forgive my request for you to go slow.”

“I would never hurt you.”

When she pressed her lower half against his thigh, he teased her nipples before focusing on kissing her. Despite the difference in facial structure, especially with his snout, he managed to make it work. When he heard her moan as she nearly humped him desperate to get herself off and to entice him, he chuckled low to himself. “Shameless indeed.”

But then Lindsay said, “God, I want you. But I have never done it with an animal before.”

Ramhorn paused and went silent as she continued to rub against him. His claws twitched and he heard her gasp uncomfortably as they left a tiny scratch on her nipple and the underside of her breast. The Minicon slowly lifted his head to look at her.

Lindsay smiled but it was strained when she noticed his mood progressively changing. “Is something wrong, baby?”

“I’m a what?” Ramhorn snarled at her with an antagonized expression. “You come onto me, act as a groupie, and the first thing you say is you’ve ‘never done it with an animal before?’ Do I look like an animal to you?”

Lindsay clutched her bare breasts when he pulled away slightly and realized her mistake. “I-I thought that it wouldn’t matter to you, that it would turn you on. I meant-”

“I know what you meant,” he growled. “Oh, you might be pretty, but you are an idiot if that’s what you think would work.”

The girl grew annoyed and abruptly pushed him aside, making him stumble onto all fours and backing away peeved. He stared at her as she picked up her shirt, stomping his padded, thick paws down like a real rhino with an agitated grunt.

“I’m only an idiot if I continued with a jerk like you,” she stated.

As she walked away, Ramhorn made an abnormal sound as his yellow optics blared, shaking his head and fuming at the sudden rejection. Nobody talked down to him like an animal. Nobody.

Lindsay heard Ramhorn suddenly running and turned around, barely able to register something piercing her. She was impaled by his horns and pushed into the door that remained closed. Grunting like a beast with his ears twitching angrily, he barely saw Lindsay’s shock as her entire abdomen was crushed. He didn’t care as she bent forward, her breasts next to his optics and his signature in view, instead focused only on feeling her last breath as blood was dripping off his snout.

When he confirmed her limp body was no longer breathing, he backed away, but she was dragged forward with her body stuck on his horns. He shook his head trying to dislodge her. He trotted around the small space, unable to shift back into a bipedal stance with all the weight on his head. Growing angrier by the second, he surged forward and destroyed the door to the Minicons’ lounge before finally dislodging the girl. Her body hit the floor and her friends stared at him horrified.

They saw the blood and his fearsome golden optics, and for a second, he grew worried until Stella, who was on Playback’s lap, screamed. Something snapped inside him, and Sadie saw it as steam blew from his nostrils. He looked like a beast possessed. She was the first to push Eject off and run towards the other exit of the lounge. Stella followed, kicking Playback in the face when he tried to keep his grip on her.

Ramhorn finally stood on his hind legs and pointed at the escapees with blood running down his face growling, “Stop them!”

The two girls ran through the empty hall into a wider set up of the establishment with the stage just over yonder outside. They aimed for the doors when Stripes slid in front of them to guard the exit, teeth bared as Stella backed away. Sadie was frozen as the Nitrotiger moved towards her.

Suddenly, Eject sliced Sadie’s arm and she cried, holding the wound as he glared at her with a newfound darkness. Sadie dodged another swipe of his blade and grabbed Stella, running towards the inside amphitheater doors in the building.

To their relief, Blaster was on stage tampering with his controls for the following day. Sadie and Stella ran to him crying and pointing. “Blaster! Help! He killed Lindsay! They’re trying to kill us now! Please, you have to help us!”

Blaster whipped around shocked by the sudden voices but also by the statements themselves. He peered up and past them to see his Minicons barging in with bloody Ramhorn at the front of the group. He frowned and asked calmly, “What is this?”

When the other five Minicons looked to their leader, Ramhorn, they expected something but the rhino-like Minicon stayed silent simply shaking his head. The girls stayed as close to Blaster as they could until they looked up and saw the Autobot studying Ramhorn’s wordless response before peering down at them coldly.

“I see. It’s very unfortunate you little ladies got caught up in this mess, but there’s nothing I can do for you. We get willing young adults trying all the time to work their way into our berths. So many ill-gotten fools who think they can be groupies and runaways welcomed with open arms. To them, you’re just play toys for their entertainment but Ramhorn...he’s quite temperamental.”

Sadie and Stella both gasped silently with tears streaming down, backing away from the red Autobot who then smirked.

“Didn’t there used to be three of you?”

Ramhorn gave a rumble, startling the two girls who frantically peered between the angered Minicon and the DJ. Stripes and Steeljaw roared flickering their tails as Eject and Playback moved inward past Ramhorn who converted back to all fours.

Blaster sighed, “I’m afraid we’re just going to have to fix this miscalculation and reunite you with your friend. After all, a few people go missing at festivals all the time. Ramhorn, be nice and try to keep things quiet, won’t you?”

As his boss turned away ignoring the fearful girls’ whimpers, Ramhorn grinned. Then music began playing through Blaster’s shoulder stereos to mask any sound in the room. Snarling, the rhino Minicon waited for the song, Earthquake by Hitmakerchinx, to sound the perfect bass note before sprinting at the nearest human.

Stella nearly tripped and crawled under the seats of the amphitheater desperately trying to hide from the Minicons as Sadie tried running to the back doors around the stage only to find them locked. As she ran when Playback snagged a piece of her shirt that ripped, Stella screamed as the red-pawed servo tried to grab her leg.

“Come here, you little whore!”

Cracks of light started breaking through the seats as they were torn out from the enraged Minicon. The backrests of each seat were forced backwards flattened by his weight as the supports creaked under the pressure. When he tried to reach down again, Stella took out her earring and grabbed his wrist, jamming it between the joints which he furiously cursed at.

She crawled several feet thinking Ramhorn had backed off but instead near the end of the row she was under, Steeljaw suddenly appeared and snapped his teeth at her. She scrambled back but he caught her hand, crushing it before pulling. Letting out a scream, she fought with the Lionator as he whipped his head with the intention of tearing the hand off. She relentlessly tried beating him on his forehead, trying to force him to let go until Ramhorn’s claws broke through the seat and caught her by the neck. The red and yellow Minicon roughly pulled her out from under, dragging Steeljaw along the floor. The cat let go but licked his lips tasting the blood as he watched Stella quiver in Ramhorn’s grasp.

“I despise crying, as if you didn’t do this to yourself? Next time, keep your dignity in check because we don’t give a damn what you give us. It’s funny, we had people here in the past, making moves on us first. The problem was they just didn’t know when to keep their mouths shut, so preoccupied with being the ones to sleep with musicians that they didn’t consider the consequences. Too bad I have less patience than my bandmates do. I guess I am just an animal after all.”

He started to squeeze her neck as his sunlit optics narrowed, feeding off the light of her own eyes fading. His claws dug into her collar and the back of her head. When she tried to grab his wrist again, his optics contracted.

Ramhorn stopped his choking, only to switch to bashing her head against the remains of the damaged seat. He didn’t stop until the floor and seats around it had blood splatter everywhere. Even when she went limp in his grasp, he continued with uncontrollable rage until her eye popped out. Once it did, he paused and looked at the destroyed face that had once held beauty but now was nothing short of an indistinguishable mess.

After a second of studying her corpse, he finally cast her aside with a portion of his humor briefly returning. “By the way, still love the shirt.”

He then snarled as he heard the last girl running.

Sadie opened a prop door in the backstage area and slammed it into Playback’s face, making the Minicon wince with his servos covering it as Stripes took his place pursuing her. The Nitrotiger jumped on her back and forced her down, clawing at her backside which she shouted before elbowing the cat and pushing him off.

When Eject and Rewind came after her, she found a prop hammer and swung it at Rewind, tossing him through the curtains and part of the stage lighting. Panting heavily, she went back into a swinging position as Eject held up his servos in defense.

“Now, just take it easy. If you play nice, we won’t have to hurt you-”

“Spare me your fucking pity, you son of a bitch. You didn’t do a damn thing to help Lindsay!”

The Minicon scowled, “So much for being nice. And I really liked you.”

“Why?!” She gritted through her teeth, “Why her; why us?!”

Eject didn’t answer as Playback and Rewind got out of their predicaments to surround her. Then Ramhorn walked up from behind Eject and seemed to answer for him. “Because we have an attitude problem. Now, put the hammer down and we can talk.”

Sadie wasn’t a fool, not anymore. “You’re going to kill me regardless! Give me one good reason that I shouldn’t bash your head in?!”

The leader of the band made a deadpanned expression. “Your plan is to kill me with a prop?”

The woman dropped her stance for second in dismay at being called out and it was all Ramhorn needed to get the jump on her. Swiping the fake weapon out of her hand, he grabbed her and shoved her onto the floor despite the bass of the new song Blaster was playing to mask their rampage shook the stage with a constant beat.

“Personally, I find it interesting how you humans act entitled to getting anything you want from us but as soon as it’s inconvenient, we are suddenly the villains. I tried to be nice to Lindsay; she called me an ‘animal.’ Mm, not a fair trade and I have such a sensitive temper, call those drums of mine therapeutic. So, tell me, who’s the real villain here? Her or me?”

Sadie whimpered and softly said, “You.”

Ramhorn blinked before his expression turned dark. But instead of killing her like she assumed he would, he instead threw her over his shoulder before addressing the others. “Clean up this mess and head back to the lounge.”

Ramhorn took her back despite her useless struggles before throwing her on the couch. He guarded the doors as he waited for the others, Blaster’s music still resonating throughout the building. Finally, his band showed up and one of them took the liberty of removing Lindsay’s body. Once everything was settled, Ramhorn roughly grabbed Sadie’s face.

“It’s a shame about your friends. I was hoping you three could be together with us for the next few days at least.”

Rewind then asked, “What are we going to do with her, Ramhorn?”

“Well, we still have two more days,” Playback said. “We could have some fun. She’s going to die anyways knowing Ramhorn.”

“Shut up,” the red and yellow Minicon snapped. “But you’re right. Waste not, want not.”

His tail flickered as he forced himself over her, trailing his claws down her neck carefully and to her Starlight Express fan shirt. He dug a hole through it slowly, watching her twist in agony as his claws started cutting the skin as well.

He gave a thoughtful grin. “Do we have any sharpies?”

------------------------

The Blastoff Fest was full of party-goers, drinks, fangirls, and moshed pits galore.

Blaster and his band rocked the whole three days with no complaints with Ramhorn at the drums beating away. Eject and Rewind stuck their tongues out at each other mockingly shredding their guitars as Playback pulled a bass solo when his time came on a specific song. Stripes and Steeljaw did what they did best, both having fun as their music inspired many.

The audience was on fire; the city itself burning with the beats as Blaster never tired. The many girls in the Ultimate VIP section swooned as they had a front row viewing of the whole show. Numerous girls wanted to be with the Minicons and Blaster himself. Many dreamed it; only one was forced to.

Three nights of music were three nights of hell for Sadie. Chained up and sedated, naked on the berth with all the Minicons’ signatures on her chest and abdomen, Sadie cried. Her hair lay across the berth like a waterfall, but her tears were the real sight. Ramhorn’s signature was the largest, and the marks on her lower body belonged to him more than the others.

For three nights, he took what he felt he was owed. Blaster didn’t stop him. She only saw their boss once after the first night which he could only apologize without any emotion to be seen yet still left her there. Every night, Ramhorn came back.

The last night after the last show though, she knew she wouldn’t see him again. For when he took what he wanted, she was torn apart. Her body was destroyed like her mind beforehand. She came to rest with her friends in the woods just outside the city limits and no one came to look for her as they only remembered their time rocking at the Blastoff Fest.

Chapter Text

Sherri lit incense around the room to prepare for any customers who sought help or advice, her mainstream profession, as the incense often made the room relaxing. Her desk assistant told her the list of appointment customers and those he ‘overheard’ seeking help. Her assistant did a lot of research and with that, it made her job so much easier. After all, helping people find closure was harder to do if it wasn’t known what ailed them.

She knew what she was doing was fraudulent, but the money paid for the bills and people would fall for anything to get closure. She had to thank an old friend of hers, Selina, for the inspiration. Unlike her, Selina was a real psychic. Her ability was uncanny and unlike Sherri, Selina never bragged of her gift, never sought money, nor sought out grieving people. If anything, she despised her gift. Hearing spirits, predicting people’s futures, and using anything she could to help others made her tired and miserable. Most real psychics were depressed having to constantly feel everything around them.

Sherri was jealous of how such a gift could be wasted on someone who thought it was a curse. She knew what it was worth to see what no one else could see, and she intended to use her gimmick to milk every penny from desperate idiots.

Her first customer of the day was a man whose husband passed away from a heart attack. She could tell his depression was prominent. Time to change fate, so to speak.

“I sense there is a shadow of pain among you, a loss of one close to you. You seek an answer. Is it your fault?”

The man froze at how she could have known that and scrunched up his nose trying not to cry. “I just wonder if we did too much. We always had fun, but I didn’t know it could happen, you know?”

Sherri smiled, “Love is boundless. The human body though is mortal. He died loving you and he wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“He’s here?” He asked confused.

“With you, attached to you. His spirit will never leave you. I sense he wants you to find more in life than what you see before you. 40 years old is not a stopping point, my dear, but a chance to continue. If you don’t believe me, let me see if I can clarify what I may see is in store for you.”

She pulled out her deck of tarot cards and the first card she pulled was that of The Wheel of Fortune. “I see plenty of changes not just current but upcoming.”

Then The Fool was brought out. “I see a new beginning, one of perseverance and freedom from strife.”

Finally, Sherri revealed her winning card: The World. “You will be whole again with your life anew and opportunities at your fingertips.”

Whenever she played The World, it guaranteed customer satisfaction. Like a game of poker, it was her ace in convincing others to believe her. Whether or not her prophecies would come true now or later, she cared not. To see this man’s face lighten up in amazement and forgetting his grief, even for a second, it almost warmed Sherri’s heart.

Once she did a few more readings through various methods, she excused him, and he seemed a bit understanding of his situation more.

A customer later in the day was a woman, proud and stuffy. Sherri resisted the urge to laugh at this piece of work. She did her thing, uncaring of the consequences.

“I see a deeper neglect of yourself, one you hide under the secret of your success,” she claimed as she put Judgment on its reverse side. Then she pulled out The Devil. “You crowd yourself in glamour that will not repay you, but it will play with your soul.”

Last, she pulled The World. “But not all is lost. You will find the harmony you seek in your disintegrating lifestyle if you seek to repair what has been broken inside.”

The woman frowned at first, but she began contemplating before breaking down. “They say I’m perfect, but I’m not. I do everything for my mother to make her happy. I just want to do what I want but we’re aristocrats! Do you know how much an image means to us?! I don’t want to look like a stuck-up Barbie doll all the time! I just want to be me!”

Sherri nodded, “Sometimes to be what you want to be, you must break down what you have and rebuild anew. If this means leaving your family, would you?”

It wasn’t the best advice, but she did feel a little bad for her. A rich life wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be sometimes and that sometimes hurt people just as much as those who were poor and suffering from standards. But Sherri had no time for other people’s problems without a paycheck. Maybe she would do well as a therapist more so.

Sherri comforted the saddened woman before finally saying goodbye once she was okay to walk without losing her balance among her sobs. As the customer left, another customer walked into the lobby.

Her assistant was quick to greet her but paused when he noticed the unusual clothes she wore. Her attire appeared like a maxi dress but was long enough to drag on the floor a few inches and was made from thick, purple tinted fur, real or fake he couldn’t tell. Embodied at the belt line at the hips of the dress was a specialized breechcloth spanning down almost the entire length. It had fur tassels on its side and was decorated with the oddest language. The symbols looked different from Cybertronian, broader and spiked. Her upper half was more of a modern evening dress-look but with various necklaces and silver chains that acted as supports around her neck and shoulders.

Armor was intertwined within the fabric, almost like she was a warrior of some type of tribe. Her arms had matching sleeves with similar symbols and jewelry. The skin seen was heavy with unknown tattoos. A hooded coat of a deep violet left only her tattooed lips visible while the rest of her face was shrouded in darkness. He assumed the tattoos spanned up her face as well.

“H-how may I help you, Miss...?”

“Kalypso,” she said in a monotone voice. “I seek the medium known as Sherri Williams.”

He blinked for a second as it sounded like there was a faint masculine echo among her voice as well as a hiss in a word or two. “Uh, I...um...I can get you an appointment right after 2, Miss Kalypso-”

“I will meet with her now,” the voice said, calm but stern.

The assistant quickly nodded his head, fumbling with the phone to call Sherri. “Hey, Sherri, I have a, uh, a customer here that wants to meet with you. I would take this one if I were you.”

Sherri’s voice seemed to sigh but she answered, “Fine, send them in.”

Before the assistant could relay her words, the woman was already walking herself towards the door to Sherri’s room. Her hemline snaked across the floorboards, and he swore it almost reminded him of a raccoon’s tail with the faint stripe-like details and fur. The assistant blinked before his head started feeling fuzzy and sat down confused.

Sherri had dealt with unruly customers before, those who nearly spat in her face or stormed out. Most she won over by wooing them with happiness. The trick never failed. She quickly tampered with the tarot cards and moved The Magician, The Sun, and The World to the proper places so they would be the ones chosen and be turned upright when presented, giving the best outcomes and hopefully taming the customer’s demands. She placed the deck to the side and closed her eyes for a second to prepare herself.

The door opened and she usually expected her assistant to show in the customers. Instead, the door seemed to open eerily, and a hooded figure stood in the doorway. The candles around the room flickered in unison, not something she failed to acknowledge. The stones and drawings around her room reflected the light but seemed to bend it around its physical attributes. The incense faded and the many cleansing scents became dull.

If Sherri didn’t know any better, she would have assumed she was dealing with a rich woman, but the clothes didn’t reflect wealth, the tattoos didn’t express vanity, and the jewelry didn’t reflect greed. This was not the typical customer.

“Please sit, my dear.”

The expressionless woman with black lipstick and tattoos matching the same color like it melted across her face stood and stared before slowly sitting. Sherri was looking her straight in the eye, or rather at her shadowed hood, but noticed in the corner of her own, Kalypso’s arm barely moved. It almost appeared like the seat had slid out without any action, but it could have been her paranoia over how she couldn’t read the woman before her plus the angle of her eyesight.

The metal armor among the dress clashed with the wooden chairs but she didn’t mind the noise before starting off by saying, “Now, I sense within you that you have come to find clarity in a situation.”

Kalypso said nothing like a ghost.

“I think...it has something to do with me,” Sherri said. The statement was mundane as it could mean Kalypso sought her out therefore had her involved with something personal. “You seek my assistance in fixing what you have questions about. I don’t think I can fix them for you, but I can lead you to fix it yourself.”

“I do not need fixing, but you do. Falsifying a power you play with, yet you cannot comprehend, is a grave issue. I don’t like people preying on others’ feelings with lies, objectifying the abilities of the selected few for their own personal gain.”

Sherri frowned. Another disbeliever. Well, she could play that game. This woman will be no different from the others; she would make sure of that. But the term “selected few” was off-putting. Selected as in chosen few to be clairvoyant and all? That was someone’s choice. That made no sense. This woman was more wrong than even she was despite most of the customer’s rant being technically true.

“Perhaps I could interest you in a palm reading?”

Kalypso extended her hand automatically like a robot and Sherri was quick to trace the lines. But the palm in question had a unique pattern on it. Swirling skin patterns hidden among the tattoos made her look alien...unless this was a Transformer’s holoform she was talking to.

Transformers didn’t believe in human psychics which was why none of her customers were ever cybernetic. What was considered psychic abilities to the common human was found throughout Transformers as a common thing so there was nothing special about it in their worlds aside from the rarer variants and the powers they had intertwined with said abilities.

She had heard once of a Transformer who could not only talk to spirits but reanimate them, take out people’s souls, and control the many variations of afterlife that rivaled Primus’ own powers and the Allspark as well. It was a well-known rumor but very few had ever met this Transformer. Another Transformer could manipulate magic and chaos, a select few from their home world had this power that was more in tune with the human psychic abilities than the former example. But then, if this was a Transformer’s holoform, why was she so upset with Sherri’s hustle? It wasn’t like it was directly affecting her unless...

She still had her fingers on the palm when Kalypso then spoke, “You are afraid. Fear not the unknown but to take what is unknown and use it without permission can be a lifelong mistake. You want what Selina had. I gifted Selina the ability of sight, to see what no one else sees and choose her fate from the decisions laid bare of her ultimate use of them.”

Sherri let go of the hand and muttered, “Who the hell are you?”

“For centuries, I gifted all I deemed worthy. To see my gifts squandered, copied, and disgraced made me detest humanity for being so cruel for mere useless paper. A shame really.”

“I have to ask you to-”

“And not get to those silly cards of yours? But that’s the best part,” the woman smiled, showing a hint of silver fangs beneath the black lips.

Sherri felt weird as she reached for the tarot cards. Suddenly, she began to fish for her selected cards in a quick manner but not at her will. Her arms didn’t respond to at least wanting to slow down. She slammed three cards down from the pile from the exact positions of her planted cards but to her surprise, they were not at all what she had chosen. The World was supposed to be last, yet it was brought out first on its reversed side. The second card was that of Justice, upright with its sinister sword boasting its truth. And the final card was The Tower upright, a dreaded sign.

Sherri was flabbergasted how nothing she had set up played right. She didn’t even know why she dealt the cards without doing it herself. It was like she was under the control of a dark presence. Then she stared at Kalypso frightened.

“Who are you?” She whispered again, this time in a meek tone.

Blaring purple optics suddenly lightened the dark shadow from the hood and narrowed as the candles grew enflamed and the hanging décor around the room rattled. Her tattoos glowed a different shade of violet and her voice echoed like it was coming from the walls themselves. “I am Kalypso of Kanjis, the guardian of divinity and the keeper of enchantment. And you are a thief!”

Wind picked up within the room with charms and dreamcatchers being ripped from the wall and her various sets of cards and paper circling her. Sherri wanted to get up but found herself unable to stand by an invisible weight. It was Kalypso who rose instead, her shadow dwarfing the human. She cowered in her seat as the walls pounded with cracks spreading and an eerie glow peeking through them. The room looked as if it was going to break open at any point. Worse was her tapestries warped in a flash from the normal pictures of witchcraft and magic to twisted, darker versions of themselves similar to the flip of a tarot card.

“You mock the abilities of the few but know not of the burden I bestow, the responsibility that comes with it. When you leave this room, the gift you use to lie will be yours to have, but your dissimulation will be your destruction. And I will be there when your world is nothing more than a sinner’s hell.”

The tarot cards all floated upward and spread in a circle around Sherri. Some faced upright, the others on their reverse sides but all twenty-two cards showed their darkest prophecies. Rotating around her, she could see the designs on each card glowing a different color in contrast to the vibrant purple everywhere else.

Kalypso’s form warped with swirling energy and symbols dancing around her as she grew larger than the room, but the ceiling somehow grew with her. Sherri thought she was shrinking as the walls expanded as well. The form became one of a Transformer, the hood blending into armor that made up the helm. Servos and lower legs of pure black became gradient the farther up the limbs they went to blend with the same purple colors of the rest of the armor. That tattoos of black switched to a light purple even among silver faceplates and abdomen. A thick tail akin to either a fox or a raccoon whipped the mist arising from the ground.

With a roar, the Transformer said with a sarcastic tone, “I see in your future pain and clarity but don’t assume one exceeds the other. Your fate will be judged, and your life will be mine!”

Suddenly, with a bright flash and a rumble, Kalypso vanished. The room shattered.

Sherri fell back in her seat on the ground and breathed heavily. When she got up, she expected the room to be destroyed...but it was as neat as she had it right before the Transformer had entered in disguise. Her tarot cards were ready on a side table, the tapestries, drawings and other knick-knacks were untouched, and the candles remained burning with barely a flicker among them.

A knock on the door startled her and she bumped into a desk behind her as her assistant barged through. “Sherri, are you okay?! What was that noise? Did you fall?”

“Did I f-no, I was attacked by that woman you sent in!”

“What woman?”

Sherri huffed and yelled, “Purple dress?! Dark hood?! The one you said wanted to see me immediately?!”

Her assistant looked completely baffled and she thought he was mocking her but noticing how worried he was as well alerted her that he truly didn’t remember. Maybe it was in her imagination too. How else could everything be back in place from all that weird wind? It was just a dream...it had to be.

Peeved but scared, she grabbed her stuff and sighed, “Cancel the rest of the day, I need to leave. Something’s wrong here.”

“Okay? Hope you feel better and be careful.”

Sherri almost shoved him out of the way and made a beeline for the door. Outside, she didn’t care for the few people who looked her way. She wanted to go as far away from her shop as possible. As she walked to her car and brought out a cigarette, she passed a purple-flamed metal skeleton horse that stared at her dauntingly.

She paused mid-light of the cigarette, coming to a stop just next to her Honda Strike. Slowly, she turned around. Almost dropping her cigarette from her mouth, Sherri gazed up at the horse of purple flames looking like something out of Ghost Rider.

“Excuse me.”

She jumped and turned to her car where a partially headless man looked at her casually. “Do you know where Eastbrooke is? I need to tell my wife I found my brother. He was a bit angry at me, but I think we worked things out.”

Sherri screamed and peered between him and the horse, both were equally as confused as the other. She opened the door to the car and barely noticed the door went through the headless man. She hit reverse, not caring if she hit the horse and sped off.

A mile down the road and a few text messages from her assistant, she was still rigid and tried rubbing her eyes before the silence grew irritating. Turning on the radio, she smiled a little until she noticed that although she could hear the song, there were whispers among it that didn’t match. Maybe it was a recording problem? Switching through the stations, she gasped as the whispers merely changed. She heard a few names, conversations, and one standout voice seemed to be laughing. The white noise was nearly drowning out the song. In a panic, she halted on the side of the road and began hitting the radio until it started breaking, screaming her head off.

“Sherri Williams,” a final ghostly growl emitted from the radio before the radio died.

She was frozen at the wheel, sitting there with her car unmoving. The silence was suspicious now. She trusted nothing.

“Sherri,” a familiar voice said. She hesitantly peered to her right to her passenger side and saw the same customer she had helped earlier sitting before her. But he was facing forward solemnly before turning to her and revealing a bullet hole in his head and blood down the right side of his face. “You lied to me. You said I would be able to move on, find more in life. But when I got home to our apartment, all I could think of was him and seeing him again when you told me he was with me...he wasn’t here.”

At his window, the fiery eye of the undead horse loomed while he remained unmoved. Frightened, Sherri stumbled out of her car just before a honk surprised her as a car swerved around her. People in a gas station nearby watched this, pointing at her like she was an idiot. Both the horse and the man were gone.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” A homeless man asked.

“I-I-I don’t know I...”

He put a hand on her shoulder and her vision went white. She saw him crossing the road scared, startled by something only to not see a truck and be hit by it, blood on the highway. When her vision went back to normal, she saw the man still right next to her.

“Don’t run into the highway!” She said quickly. “Don’t go! Don’t-”

She started pawing at him and he pushed her back. “What’s wrong with you, Ma’am? You need medicine or something?”

“You’re in danger! I saw it; I saw you!”

“You must be out of your mind. A looney bin, if they existed, might serve you well.”

When Sherri took a step closer, he simply jogged away across the highway...only for the blaring horn of a truck to catch him off guard. Sherri screamed, hopping up and down frantically at the sight. His body rolled several feet before unmoving while the truck swerved to the side.

Another stranger grabbed her arm to try and calm her, but she sensed a dark presence in her. She saw the sincere woman’s life through spotted memories. Death, dismemberment, and darkness in a child killer. Crying children from the memories sounded as if they were echoing through time and space. She pushed the woman away with tears in her eyes. The woman who almost appeared like a friendly neighborhood everyday girl looked concerned.

“Stay away from me!”

Several Transformers driving along stopped and shifted into robot mode as they were deducing what happened. A Minicon and a Dinobot appeared near the child killer unaware of the monster they were among instead focusing on her, judging her sudden outburst.

The woman spoke to the side to the few people gathered in a whisper, “I think she’s mentally out of it. Can we get an ambulance and the police here?”

The Dinobot nodded and activated his commlink directly to 911. As he did so, Sherri contemplated everything. White noise, seeing ghosts, feeling auras, and seeing the past and future was not at all normal. Her disregarded past friend, Selina, only dealt with ghosts and predictions. This was way over the top but if Kalypso gave her all her mental psychic abilities as punishment, Sherri was indeed feeling the drastic pressure, especially noticing the Minicon next to the Dinobot was not interacting with any of the people around them, a lost soul wandering but self-aware though the damaged shoulder and the missing chest pieces left little to the imagination how they may have died.

More noticeable spirits were intertwining with the living. A girl and a boy both bloody with head wounds and miserable, an elderly Transformer whose optics were very dim, a skeleton dog with blue flames and a woman who looked like she had gone for a swim in an evening dress all stared at her the same as the people alive. The whispers hit like a typhoon, and she covered her ears when they wouldn’t shut up. Conflicting energies of death, life, happiness and more made her gain a massive headache. Out of options, she ran.

“Ma’am?!”

Sherri didn’t stop, couldn’t as the voices followed. A sudden flash and Kalypso abruptly teleported in front of her with a ghostly roar, purples optics blaring. She somehow phased through the being but frantically waved her arms before screaming when she fell out of the blue. She didn’t see the right side of the road dropped off to a steep slope and went tumbling down it.

She didn’t know how hard she fell, she didn’t know how far, but the bushes scraped her body and the rocks jabbed everything they touched. There was a small creek at the bottom and her body hit the edge of it before coming to a stop. She stayed there motionless until suddenly, her eyes opened with a gasp for air.

Sitting up, she groaned and noticed the various marks across her body, many as bloody as ever. Stupid rocks. Sherri tried her best to clean herself off.

“Having fun?”

This time, Sherri merely flinched but was still terrified deep down. To see the same skeleton horse with purple flames and now, to her surprise, Kalypso crouching to look down at her, she was starting to loathe the mysterious Transformer greatly. But now that she had an insight into the real powers few humans had and how daunting they could be daily, she could only bow her head in defeat with tears starting to roll down her cheeks again realizing all the horrors were merely the beginning if she continued to defy Kalypso’s will.

“You win. I won’t ever touch a tarot card or palm again. I won’t ever scam anyone of money again. Just please...please take this away,” she sobbed.

Kalypso merely grunted, her chassis littered with decorative jewelry and symbolic, metallic banners swayed with unsettled movements. “Well, I would but it’s only been thirty minutes. That and one other reason. I’m surprised, most people last at least three days before they commit suicide or retire from their so-called psychic medium jobs, whatever you call yourselves. You couldn’t even last an hour. Oh, I don’t really pity you.”

Growing angry, Sherri threw a river rock at Kalypso only for it to uselessly bounce off her metal frame. “Shut the fuck up! Here I am telling you what you want to hear, and you have the audacity to berate me still?! What the hell did I do to you?! And why are you suddenly talking to me like we’re peers when thirty minutes ago, you were talking down to me like a spirit who wanted to haunt someone because they’re a bitch?!”

The horse exchanged glances with Kalypso before the latter smirked, “That’s a funny way to describe it. What do you think? When babies are born, all usually have very sensitive senses but as people grow older, they normally lose it. If anything, they can detect weird activity as well as malicious, but a select few I give a portion of my abilities to who can either use it as intended or sit on it. When people make a mockery of my abilities...I tend to get quite pissed hence the dramatic encounter but now that you won’t be needing them anymore, I can talk to you casually.”

“I never wanted them...”

Kalypso’s optics, a normal purple against black eye sockets instead of the full glowing and scary appearance they had in their first meeting, had the same flare of amusement as that god-awful grin on her face. “Oh, but considering your new predicament, you really don’t need them.”

Sherri frowned wondering what Kalypso meant when she peered back where she fell only to see a body partially in the water with blood flowing down with the river itself. Sherri stared at herself as pale as could be.

“I-I’m...”

“Dead...granted, it happened a bit faster than I wanted but it works out for my brother and me.”

The dead woman peered at her arms where the cuts from the rocks were, but they had vanished on her ghost. She no longer felt the pain.

“B-But I-no, that’s not fair! I could have done more in my life! I could have-”

“What?” Kalypso sneered, “Go back to conning people? Using your insight to write a book, tell ghost stories-I'm sure those would have been top sellers. Life isn’t fair and you of all people should know that. No one can predict anyone’s fate; no one ever should, and these abilities are seldom because the responsibilities they carry are only for the strong-willed. You wasted your life, so why should I be fair to you after you hurt other people’s lives from lies?”

Sherri was silent as footsteps from behind Kalypso echoed. The man who lost his husband with a bullet now in his head stared at her with utter hatred. Just then, more souls appeared...many of whom had been customers of the past and the few others were people she had seen around town almost daily or often at random but must have known or had some sort of connection with her customers. Most of the people she recognized were immediately noticed to have died horrifically while others seemed untouched, especially children which told her death was not picky on who it took.

“Look at them, Sherri, how many of them did you lie to? How many of them were the results of lies you told others? The cost of abilities such as these are more than you can comprehend. Such fragility in their vulnerable moments, and you took advantage of that when you shouldn’t have. My brother has not been happy with what you’ve done.”

Sherri slowly put her hands to her mouth and whimpered, “No, I couldn’t have done...this. But wait, you said there were other fakes. What happened to-”

“What do you think?!” Kalypso’s optics blared for a second before returning to normal, her tail swinging agitated. “I once didn’t care about what they did but humanity doesn’t know when to stop, so what happens when too many people get onboard with fraud and the ability to wrongly influence the lives around them? Hmm? You get a mess. Well, I’m tired of looking at it and you, like many others, will pay the price...and you just did.”

“Kalypso,” a masculine baritone rumbled as the ghosts behind her peered back. Moving shadows were all Sherri could see but a horned figure could be barely identified in the fog rolling in. His dragon-esque form narrowing similar purple optics. “It is time.”

The raccoon-like femme snarled but didn’t argue with the figure. “It seems my brother and I must carry on. I do hope you enjoy your new life.”

That made Sherri freeze. “What?! You’re just going to leave me here in Purgatory?! Y-you can’t do that!”

Kalypso snickered, “Actually, it’s not my choice. My brother can serve or deflect souls, summon or destroy them. He can also alter life and death itself from any afterlife including the Well of the Allspark. I am a sorcerer, a person who can bend the boundaries between both as well, so to speak. I’m merely a messenger, and I love my job. The fact that he agreed to help me hunt down the liars of my gifts to humanity? He loves me...he just won’t admit it out loud.”

As Sherri was left flabbergasted, Kalypso gave a cruel laugh as the spirits disappeared and her pet horse trotted into the fog alongside her brother who merely turned unceremoniously to leave. She was left distraught and helpless.

“Maybe we’ll meet again, maybe we’ll meet in an hour or so. I have another target, a prideful woman not far from here,” the femme snorted before disappearing when the fog coiled around her before dispersing. Her haunting laugh still echoed among the brush and riverside.

The human, if she could even call herself that anymore, stared blankly around her. Her body remained as dead as could be drowned by the ever-flowing river. Suddenly, a few people from above carefully treaded down the steep slope and went to her body. They didn’t see her, and she felt her lip tremble even when she tried to wave a hand in front of their faces to confirm she had passed.

Alone, bitter, and cold, she walked endlessly. She didn’t know for how long, but she randomly stumbled upon a psychic hut. Madame Telula’s Palm Readings and Psychic Details. Curious, she entered. She forgot now that she was dead, she could faze through doors, but it was a little funny seeing how scared the assistant was when the door swung open. She went through Madame Telula’s door without opening it and saw a grieving father.

His son had passed away and here was this woman telling him her son was here, not unlike what Sherri had done. There was no one else in the room but them and her.

“Not everyone stays in limbo because of unfinished business,” Kalypso suddenly said, making Sherri scream. Thankfully, none of the others could hear her and apparently, neither could they hear Kalypso. She was in human form again, but the darkness of the hood was no longer hiding the rest of her tattoos nor the gorgeous light purple irises.

“Hello, again,” Kalypso smirked briefly before looking at the fake psychic and the man, “I always hate it the most when people lie about loved ones. Death is not a toy; you can’t summon someone like dolls to prove a point, aside from me and my brother of course, and you can’t tell people about them because a grieving mind is very fragile. You tell a distraught and vulnerable man his husband is on the other side; you think he’s going to want to move on? Why would he want to be separated from someone he loves dearly more than any other person on the planet? Grief kills and not many people realize that. In fact, how many of those people can technically be considered murderers despite never raising a finger in the result of the grieving lives gone?”

Sherri was silent for a few minutes watching Madame Telula...watching herself...taking the man’s money under a false claim. Then she said, “I didn’t know...”

“In fairness, I never expect anyone to. What people do for money now and days. Hurting others hurts the conscience less when at the end of the day you hold what you want, and they don’t. Humans have the biggest pride and greed of any species I have encountered. You’re still young though, and maybe that’s forgivable.”

“Do the other fakes wander like I will?”

Kalypso didn’t answer the question but instead held up tarot cards, Sherri’s pack. “Pick a card, any card.”

The human randomly selected one. The World was in the palm of her hand. Then it suddenly changed with a fizzle of energy into Justice. She paused when she realized that’s how the cards were suddenly different than in her rigged pack during the reading. Kalypso made them so.

Without even looking at her or her card, Kalypso clicked her tongue. “To you, the world is nothing but a game but to me, it can be so much more. Justice is hardly fair in reality; it can hurt, or it can save. Fate, however, is nothing but a mental construct. Everything happens not for a reason, but because of everyone else around you.

“You walk out in the street with the right of way on the crosswalk and a car flying through the red light hits you. Was it fate or was it because that person was an idiot? You’re fighting in a battle and a grenade lands next you thrown by the enemy. Is it fate or did the enemy just decide to throw it just to kill anyone they could? You ask advice from a psychic on how to move on from a traumatic event and the psychic’s advice is to lie to you causing you to question yourself. Is it fate you commit suicide or did the psychic in question make your hopes and search for closure feel real for one second only to realize it can and will never happen when you’re already miserable? It seems less severe than the other two examples but at the end of the day, someone’s still dead and fate is not responsible for other’s actions and the reactions that follow. So, who’s to blame again?”

“I look forward to seeing you again, my dear,” Madame Telula said as her customer shook her hand. He walked through both Sherri and Kalypso with the former shivering unnerved while the other merely raised a brow.

“Poor guy, he’s going to move on, thankfully, but he’s not going to be the same father he was to his future kids. And those kids will loathe him and then they will rebel against him...and one of them might die from a drug overdose or drunk driving. Haven’t figured out which yet, give me a second,” Kalypso said casually.

Sherri frowned, “I thought you said you didn’t believe in fate?”

The femme snickered, “Because that’s not fate. The future is a set path; fate is a multitude of paths that lead to the same fork in the road. The reason why I don’t choose fate over future is because fate also has the worst ambiguity between the two. If I tell you you're going to die straight away, that’s the future. If I say you’re going to die but decide to do a bunch of fancy words and explain the pathway to your death, that’s fate. Which one would you rather hear?”

“Well, fate’s version because it sounds like I can change it but-”

“But you can’t. When I told you that you were going to die, I was describing it as fate. Look where that got you. You panicked; you lived every second scared and unsure of what would become of you each minute because I was ambiguous alongside the abilities I gave you. Would you die today? Would you die in three weeks? A year? Fifty years? You didn’t know. I should have just told you 30 minutes and the basics of the powers. You wouldn’t have panicked as much as you did because you had a timeframe, you had my abilities to do with as you please for those 30 minutes and even if you still were scared, you would at least know.”

Sherri nodded, “We’re just an annoyance to you doing stuff like that.”

Kalypso shrugged, “It’s entertaining sometimes but the point I’m trying to make is these so-called readings of your act...sometimes it’s best not to know in any form. If you play with it, it’s going to do more harm than you will see because to you, they were just customers the same as Madame Tulula here who also is selling bath salts and incense that has made about a dozen people sick. And if you’re curious, yes, bath salts and all that work but you must know what you’re doing. You can’t just make something random and sell it.”

“The story of a fake psychic’s life. This isn’t a Ghost of Christmas Present thing, so I assume you aren’t going to give me a second chance or anything. What should I do?”

At first, Kalypso was neutral but after she stared for a second at her, she shrugged, “How the fuck should I know? You’re dead. You can go haunt anyone who wronged you, scare a psychic, protect children, whatever. I don’t care what you do. Quick tip: if you’re low on energy to move stuff in the land of the living, divert energy from the living. It won’t kill them but it’s funny as hell to see them act dramatically and faint. The whole world is now yours to roam in. Visit places you never got the chance to, haunt a priest if that’s on your bucket list...have fun. Death isn’t always a morbid thing, you know. Now, if you would excuse me, I’ve got another psychic to meet with.”

Kalypso stepped through the door and vanished again. Sherri was stuck again alone, but this time she had a bit of a smile at the irony of it all. It was a nightmare previously but, in a way, it was a future that maybe wouldn’t be bad after all.

Her growing laughter threatened tears as she moved backwards stumbling. Tarot cards, tapestries, and the décor around the room shifted with her energy growing. Maybe she was a fuck up in the land of the living but here, she would make it right.

The door to the room opened and the assistant of Madame Tulula’s peaked into the room concerned. When nothing was seen, he frowned while Sherri gained a wicked idea. If she was going to be here forever, she would heed Kalypso’s advice. What else did she have to live for?

Chapter Text

Christian and Stevie exchanged lighters as they walked the edge of the suburbs, lighting their street-bought weed. They were bored and decided to just take a stroll, not that either of their parents cared if they were at least with each other.

It was a warm summer night, and the fireflies were moving about in the fields across the way, perfect time to just dip from their houses for a few hours. No school, no worries, and nothing really happened in the suburbs anyway. They were on their way to a small gas station just a few blocks at the edge of the suburbs for some alcohol to add to the mix.

As they talked, Christian and Stevie both noted a weird noise coming from the woods past the field. They ignored it thinking it was just a small after effect of the weed. A sudden crash in the field had both teens turn to see two Seekers bouncing before one got up fast and snarled. Both were Decepticons and the red one aimed his weapon at the other. The teens drew close enough to get a good view before Christian started recording.

The red Seeker fired, sending the green-striped silver one backwards onto a tree that toppled from the force. Although the tactic seemed cowardly in the teens’ eyes, it was still epic until they noticed something abnormal from the silver Seeker. Purple light blared through not just the optics and bio lights but the chest cavity as well. Normally, Transformers didn’t have glowing chests, not to mention they soon saw her roar animalistically, almost like she wasn’t right in the head.

Everytime the silver Seeker lunged, the red one frantically fired at her trying to keep his distance. Shooting off her arm did nothing but when she drew too close, the defensive Seeker jammed his blaster right into her chest and, with a massive explosion, blew a large hole into the chassis. The silver Seeker went limp with one last growl before he tossed her. Panting, the red Seeker peered around hoping no one heard before transforming into an F-35 and bolting towards the sky.

The teens stared in awe and when the victorious Seeker left, they looked at the dead one with interest. Christian was quick to say, “Dude, do you think we can salvage the parts?”

Stevie frowned, “What parts? They just got blown to smithereens. But did you see how that one was acting? They were a beast, man!”

“Well, since we’re here and they’re dead, want to get a closer look?”

Stevie paused at first before nodding his head with a wicked grin, tapping his friend’s shoulder who was equally giddy. They ran to the silver Seeker’s corpse, walking around her to see the extent of the damage. Aside from the obnoxious hole in the chest, there was deterioration on the abdomen and neck. It didn’t look like rust exactly, but it didn’t look natural either.

“Wicked!” Stevie gasped, examining the twin rockets attached to the arm of the Seeker. He gently tapped them before sliding his hand over the smooth and deadly armored explosive. “They carry around these things like it's just their everyday wallet. Can you imagine carrying a weapon you could spawn on your person out of the blue in a millisecond. I wish my arm could have a blaster or rocket attached.”

“And what? Blow yourself up by accident with the wrong gesture? No thanks,” Christian smirked.

As Stevie stood up, he caught in the corner of his eye a faint purple glow in the hole of the chest. “Hey, isn’t this guy dead?”

Christian looked at him before trailing him in the direction he was peering at and saw the eerie glow too. They both stood still unsure what to do when Christian whispered, “Maybe we should go, man.”

Stevie gestured to stay calm before climbing up the body, much to his friend’s unsettled behavior.

“Stevie, dude, get down!”

“Wait a second. I’m just going to look.”

When he walked on the edge of the chassis, he slowly peered into the damaged chest and saw a bubbling purple liquid with faint steam coming up from it. It didn’t look like blood but neither did it appear like it belonged. Stevie was about to reach down to touch it when Christian whacked his hand away.

“You’re just going to blindly touch it?! Safety first,” the blonde-headed teen stated as he emptied a hidden flask on his person and handed it to Stevie. “I pay attention in science class.”

The brunette teen merely rolled his eyes and dunked the flask in the unusual liquid. Surprisingly, the purple matter slid right off the exterior with no problems. Stevie snickered, “Doesn’t look that dangerous to me. What’s got you spooked so suddenly?”

“I don’t know but something about that stuff just isn’t sitting right with me. Spare parts, not a problem. That...that seems wrong.”

“It’ll be fine.”

When Christian was about to speak some more, they heard a voice call out, “Who’s out there?”

A flashlight appeared in the backyard of a house nearby and the teens were quick to scramble out of the crime scene. Running through the field and to a fenced property, they leapt over as quickly as possible before sneaking back onto the street. Making sure no one was following them, they walked almost half a mile to an abandoned building in Bayview Hill, a popular section filled with drugs and broken cars. It was their getaway when in danger.

Making sure no one was using the place for other activities, they settled on the level just below the rooftop in a nook of old piping and missing walls. Setting the flask down carelessly, Stevie smiled, “What do you think we should do with this stuff? Sell it?”

Christian sat on the old, stained couch in the corner next to a broken pipe. “For what? Nobody’s going to buy something they don’t know. Hell, we don’t even know what it is?”

“Transformer blood possibly. I know someone in Bayview who could turn Energon into lava lamps, selling them for fifty bucks each. We could have her make one out of this and then turn it around and sell it for five times the price from the rarity of the color.”

“Assuming it’s Energon. We don’t know if it is.”

Stevie eyed the flask before pursing his lips and taking it back in his grasp, unscrewing the cap with little emotion. He brought it close to his nose and got a whiff of the scent. “Huh, kind of like aerosol with that asphalt after smell. It’s not bad but I don’t know. What do you think?”

He capped it and threw it across the room to Christian who caught it before opening it again. The teen made a weird face and said, “Smells more like bad weed that got turned into a fake air freshener.”

Stevie laughed, “Dude, Connor got high off Energon with a bong the other day, he combined weed with it and said it smelled like citrus mixed with oil, and the weed made it extra tangy. He said it was the best high he ever had. Usually, hitting the bong just made him come up with concepts for his songs at random. Hitting the Energon with weed though? He said he was finishing all his WIPs for his music in less time than ever before.”

“Once again, that was with Energon. We don’t know if it’s Energon.”

“Using a bong on it wouldn’t be the same as drinking it so if Energon can be used, gasoline and oil have been a thing in the past to get high when in doubt, I don’t think that’s going to kill us and if it’s bad, we can just stop. Just add water with it too if you’re still unsure, won’t hurt it.”

Christian tilted his head studying the glow within the flask and shrugged, “Guess you only live once.”

Stevie smiled, “Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about!”

As they got the bongs they often hid in a hole in the wall, Stevie placed half the supply of the purple liquid in one and the other half in the second. As they used the rest of the weed, Stevie and Christian lifted their bongs as a toast while sitting beside one another. Lighting it, they inhaled the smoke of the weed combined with the potency of the liquid.

Stevie gave a brief coughing fit and winced while Christian merely blinked in surprise, blowing the smoke out unsure. The former still cracked a smile despite the rough start. “This is like if Dracula hit the pipe, man. Wow, that’s some dense ass shit.”

Christian waved a hand over the bong. “That’s strong. I feel...better though.”

The teen’s comment was ignored as Stevie didn’t hesitate to go back in. But Christian set the bong aside.

“I think one’s good enough. Like that’s God-level stuff right there. It’s like all my problems melted away in my mind. I’m saving the rest of that. At least I don’t think it goes bad after several hours. I’m like awake awake, let me tell you.”

Watching Stevie continue to hit the bong repeatedly without pause made Christian’s brows furrow. He had seen plenty of people immerse themselves in it but not that much that fast. Stevie kept his eyes closed, never opening them and the purple liquid seemingly glowed brighter after each inhale.

Suddenly, Stevie dropped the bong and it shattered against the floor as he started convulsing. Christian immediately went to his side and yelled out his name. He had seen people faint or have panic attacks, the opposite of what weed was generally supposed to do, but never had he seen, let alone heard of, overdosing on it. It must have been the purple substance.

Stevie’s eyes were rolling into his head, the veins of the sclera were visibly tainted off-color from normal red. Christian was scared, unknowing of what to do. If he called 911, they would arrest them. If he called either of their parents, they would be in huge trouble.

“Come on, Stevie, snap out of it! I’m here! You’re going to be okay, okay?!”

Out of options, he hugged Stevie close hoping the seizure-like symptoms would pass until he felt something slimy running down his back. He pushed Stevie upright from his shoulder to see purple saliva and foam bubbling down the teen’s chin. Smoke inhalation didn’t do that either...

A sudden final gasp from Stevie startled the other and the teen collapsed back lifelessly. Christian was frozen on the spot. Even though high on the same substance, he was alert entirely to the situation and frightened just as much.

“Stevie?” When his friend didn’t respond, he jumped up and paced frantically.

How was he supposed to explain this to anybody? His friend overdosed on drugs and Transformer’s blood they weren’t even meant to have, burying the body would make him a prime suspect to Stevie’s disappearance, and no one would probably believe him if he told the truth regarding the weird purple liquid.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no,” he whimpered, gripping the back of his head.

He paused when he heard sizzling and peered down to the floor. The remnants of Stevie’s bong, the purple liquid, still bubbled despite being without a heat source. Then he noticed the floorboards were cracking dark purple out from the main puddle like spiderwebs, scarring the wood with a hiss. The glass had the same designs over it pulsing and Christian kept staring at it concerned.

Stevie’s body suddenly gasped again, and Christian almost tumbled over the cheap table horrified. He watched the veins and arteries slowly becoming prominent across the paling skin, jutting out inflamed and spasming. Abruptly, Stevie’s eyes burst open...but they were purple. Christian kept his distance as Stevie buckled forward and threw up nearly the same liquid which hissed upon contact with part of the table and more of the floor.

“Stevie? A-are you...?”

Stevie suddenly glared at him; his pupils were still dilated yet alive. All he did was wheeze with the purple substance leaking down to his shirt and pants. Blood ran down from his nostrils a sickly dark purple, nearly black.

As Christian watched the possessed eyes track him, he held his chest wondering if he would die as well and be reanimated into whatever Stevie was because he knew for a fact that was NOT Stevie. Yet he had inhaled the same substance? Stevie’s abuse of it must have driven the dangerous chemical into overdrive.

“Stevie, buddy?”

He saw Stevie’s lip curl and ran as the walking corpse of his friend lunged at him. He maneuvered through the old building towards the stairwell when Stevie chased after him, banging off a wall at high speed with no sound of pain or discomfort. That was inhuman. He was nearly there when he tripped and fell through the floor. Wood gave way and he hit the floor below in agony, clutching his back almost in tears.

His moment of getting over the pain was quickly cut short as he heard a snarl from above. The purple liquid dripping mere inches from his face onto the floor as Stevie peered down at him through the hole. His friend’s hands were bloody gripping the broken floor when jagged wood remained, but Stevie looked unbothered.

Despite the searing flares of his spine, Christian ran off as he heard Stevie jumping down. The sudden weight of Stevie’s body caused the same part of the floor he landed on to give way as well. But the corpse was smart and clutched the edge, bringing himself upright dragging his nails to get a better grip without noticing them breaking off and bleeding heavily, leaving blood marks on the wood.

Christian hid in the farthest room and immediately dialed Connor. When the phone was answered, he immediately said, “Connor! Connor! Stevie is alive b-but not himself! When you smoked the Energon, did you-?!”

“Hey, Christian, this is really not a good time,” Connor said with a tired voice.

“What’s wrong?”

In a wheezing, defeated laugh, Connor replied, “I’m in the hospital, dude. Energon tore up my lungs. Doctors said I have permanent respiratory impairment. He couldn’t identify what type because, you know, alien substance, but the lungs have been clotting. Been on intensive treatments and constant watch. It’s funny. I felt so alive one moment liking nothing could ever hurt me; my mind was clear for once. All my ideas came rushing in without any doubts or stresses, and I was making music. The next morning, I was coughing up blood...”

A beeping over the phone and several strained breathing noises made Christian look at it unsure if Connor hung up or was pranking him until he heard the panicked voices of nurses and doctors talking in medical lingo. Something about a “Code Blue.”

“Connor?!”

“I’m sorry, your friend is unable to talk right now. We must cut this conversation short,” a strict voice said on the other end of the line much to Christian’s dismay.

The phone was hung up on their side and Christian’s phone was dropped in shock. If regular Energon destroyed the lungs that fast, then what the hell did they take?

A crashing noise made Christian flinch as he heard Stevie growl before coughing up more blood. The splattering sound on the floor almost had Christian gagging. The more he listened, the more he realized Stevie was still dying. It seemed the boost of energy Connor had gotten was present here, but Stevie was burning through the excess energy and remaining life. It was only a matter of time before he collapsed again.

Christian could feel his adrenaline through the roof with the aid of the purple substance, not enough to kill him but perhaps outlive Stevie. He made an executive decision and ran out of his hiding spot to jump kick Stevie into a moldy sheetrock panel on one of the walls. He laughed a little, thinking that initially the move wouldn’t work. On his feet in seconds, he watched Stevie struggling to get back up.

“Sorry, Stevie!”

He ran back upstairs in the hope that Stevie would think he went down but the scuffling below made him second guess himself. He looked for anything he could use to defend himself. Scrambling through the collective junk they had, or other people left in the room, he found nothing of value to his predicament.

An inhumane bellow made him turn quickly and he grabbed Stevie by the neck as he was pushed down. Stevie was on him, bloody hands grabbing at his shirt while liquid from the mouth made Christian gag as it slid off his clothing, leaving a slimy trail on the material.

He didn’t know if Stevie was trying to bite him, kill him, or maybe both, but he refused to let go of the tense neck as purple eyes furiously glared at him. When Stevie’s grip let up for a brief second, Christian grabbed the nearest object. Ironically, he felt no regrets as he smashed a shard of glass from the broken bong right into the other teen’s eye. Using the cry of pain as a distraction, he pushed Stevie off completely.

Christian got up fast and took a defensive stance as his friend growled with the purple liquid pouring out of his eye now. Stevie’s skin looked horrifically pale than it did several minutes ago. The body must have purged most of his blood as the veins and arteries were lighter in color than normal.

“Stevie, I don’t want to hurt you!” Then he noticed the broken water pipe next to the couch and frowned, “But I will if I have too.”

Stevie twitched before running at him, but Christian didn’t run away. Instead, he sprinted towards his pursuer and punched Stevie in the head before kicking him backwards. The corpse stumbled back and fell. The sound of ripping flesh and broken bones made Christian freeze as he was forced to look at the pipe now sticking out of Stevie’s chest. Remnants of the heart were visible, but Christian refused to acknowledge it.

To his surprise, Stevie was still alive, moving his arms to grasp the pipe with a small, bubbly choking noise. It took almost thirty seconds before the arm went limp and he bled out entirely, the puddle of blood very tiny for such a gaping wound. The haunting purple eyes were back to their regular color. Stevie looked like he had just simply fallen, not been a rampaging zombie a moment prior. Christian kind of preferred him that way.

It took Christian nearly an hour to figure out what to do. Nothing good could come of this mess and he knew no one was to be trusted with the secret. Stevie’s parents would most likely blame him for Stevie “running away.” Better than believing he murdered him in defense. He didn’t have a solid excuse and still couldn’t understand what happened. It seemed unreal.

At one point, Christian eyed his untouched bong still sitting with the purple eerie glow within. He couldn’t let anyone hurt themselves with it, never again. He felt some relief when he grabbed it and angrily threw it across the room. Watching the decorative glass shatter and the substance remaining in the corner far from him was enlightening.

Walking home was like taking the walk of shame. He had no friend, his weed was gone, and the Seeker in the field was surrounded by police. He didn’t even notice his mother hugging him in worry running up from the block. She looked concerned at his lack of expression and the faded purple staining him. He didn’t have the heart to tell her. Everything seemed surreal, and he loathed each step to his house.

The next morning was arguably the second worst day of his life.

Christian was in tears on his bed, both from the loss of his friend and the agonizing pain within his chest. He took water, any over-the-counter pain relief, cough medicine, and various medicine tricks on YouTube. Nothing seemed to work.

Throwing up blood, the same symptom Connor had mentioned, alerted him that this was not an ordinary illness. He wheezed, eyes wide as he could feel his heart being squished by the inflamed, struggling lungs. It got so bad where he couldn’t move. At some point, he heard his mother coming up to wake him and he collapsed face first in a puddle of blood on his bed unconscious. He barely heard her screams.

When he awoke, the steady beeping of a heart monitor was present, the horrific noise making him remember that he was lucky to be alive. He gulped the saliva down his dry throat, closing his eyes with a quivering lip. He wasn’t hurting now but he knew what was coming if the drugs in his system were no longer available.

Seeing his mother in the corner of eye talking with the Cybertronian doctor in her long john pajamas and KISS shirt, uncaring how unkept she looked, made him smile. But she looked frantic, almost crying as the doctor kept shaking his head trying to explain the situation. It was concerning to him; what had he done? His stepfather was equally distraught.

A human nurse came through the door and then he heard the conversation.

“What do you mean?! He’ll get through this! He’s strong; I know it!”

“Mrs. Peterson, this is the thirteenth case of Energon inhalation. But unlike the others who will live the rest of their lives with lung problems aside from two who passed due to other complications, your son’s lungs are far worse than any of theirs, and they had blood clots and a highly unusual and resistant case of pneumonia. Some had lung transplants but the Energon remaining in the system still infected the new organs. This doesn’t look like the other cases. In fact, I don’t know what type of Energon he inhaled but your son’s body, not just the lungs, is infected with something tearing him apart molecule by molecule. None of our specialists know why or how it’s doing this...or how to stop it.”

His mother placed both hands on her mouth, scared and terrified. She cried, “Wha-is there nothing you can do...what about chemotherapy?! I-I don’t have the funds, but I’ll take out a loan and I swear I’ll take two jobs to pay it off. Please...”

The doctor sighed sadly, “This unfortunately isn’t like cancer. Chemotherapy for anything other than cancer or a few selected illnesses will destroy your son’s white blood cells and this infliction will just go faster in killing him. We don’t know what this is. Energon toxicity has been consistent in the others; this isn’t showing the same signs. There are over thirty different types of Energon and most of them we don’t know how it affects any organic lifeform if at all the same way. He’s dying and his body is going to suffer the entire process. The best we can do is offer palliative care to which we don’t even know how long it would take for him to pass. Could be a week, could be an entire year of nothing but pain and misery as he deteriorates.”

His stepfather held his mother as she sobbed into his shoulder. The doctor rubbed his neck unsure of what else he could tell the grieving parents.

Christian himself was heartbroken. A stupid decision led to two deaths, one on him and one to come because of him. Then he remembered the Seeker in the field. The other one was so determined to keep the dangerous one away that they killed them. What was the purple stuff? Energon? Didn’t seem like it. But it didn’t matter now. The damage was done.

Christian merely lied there staring at the ceiling as the nurse changed out the bag of liquid keeping him from feeling the damage itself. Even when his parents came to visit, he had no choice but to lie there in waiting for the inevitable as doctors and nurses struggled alike to figure out what was killing him. But if Stevie could come back to life, would he?

His question was somewhat answered when he overheard the nurses saying the two that died were swiftly cremated, prioritized over many other deaths that had occurred before them. One was a 19-year-old scholarship valedictorian from Slums and the other was a 17-year-old teen musician from Bayview.

He sat with that information, even through the various bouts of respiratory attacks and organ failure that threatened him daily while specialists poked and prodded him for answers. He assumed they found out finally as many of the doctors’ demeanors changed to where he was almost managed like he had the plague. But still no cure or treatment was issued, but maybe there was none for what they found, or he was finally too damaged beyond repair.

His parents were acting as if he had died already, Stevie’s parents were cold and distant the few times they visited wondering what happened to their son. He was still so afraid to tell them, not that they would believe him. He was better of just saying the partial truth with extra context: he killed Stevie.

The term Code Blue was pretty much all he heard shouted, and he familiarized himself with it and all it covered. He assumed the nurses and doctors eventually got tired of him because he was tired of himself every hour of the next five months. He still never found out what that purple liquid was.

Chapter Text

Sidney watched with interest alongside her colleagues, human and Transformer, as the bomb detonated. At their distance, protected by thick concrete and shielding, they watched in awe as the ripples of both sound waves up above and everything in front of them was obliterated with only dust and smoke visible where fake structures had been. It sent a pulse of energy that went over a land radius of 100 miles and reached nearly 50 miles high, confirmed by satellite, radar, and visuals from the Decepticons up high, that drained all life from anything it reached below an altitude of 20,000 ft.

It was so fast and brutal, everyone was in shock. The new weapon, dubbed the Nuclear Nightmare V-900-EN, was the first ever thermonuclear bomb built with cybernetic elements, one atom of each form of Energon from several worlds combined with hydrogen and many other Earth elements. No bomb up to now had such a horrific and devastating power as Nightmare.

“Test was a complete success. We now have the most powerful bomb in the world,” her boss, Marceau, said. “And people thought we could never come close to creating the firepower of America.”

“But that’s thanks to us,” a voice replied. Sidney and the other members of her team peered back to see Clobber, Strika, and Lugnut walking up to the balcony their controls sat on.

Strika’s face mask shifted as she said, “Don’t fool yourselves into thinking it was your idea now. As long as you heed Megatron’s command, the weapon is yours. Blow yourselves up for all I care, just remember our deal. We give you the formula for the weapon, and you give us access to France’s rich minerals in return.”

Marceau nodded, “You have our word.”

Sidney wanted to scoff. Maybe her boss promised, but she held no oath to the bloodsuckers. A weapon of that magnitude would be worth a fortune. To hell what any country did with it. She would laugh in the end.

Clobber smirked, “Good. We always treat those who comply the best. Ain’t that right, Lugnut?”

Lugnut was silent but he peered around the control center at all the humans. He even looked at Sidney for a brief second before his multiple eyes pinpointed the others. It unnerved her how the nine optics, four on each side and one large one in the middle, seemed to move individually like spider eyes. The slit pink pupils on the red optics fluctuated in size depending on what each optic was focused on.

Despite his head pointing a different direction, one of his optics on the side abruptly snapped back to gaze at her, the pupil contracting when making eye contact. She held no fear as it remained locked on her. When she looked away, she did her best to type the data for the test log but in the corner of eye, Lugnut was keeping that one optic tracking her as if he could sense her emotions and thoughts. Sindey had to wonder if he knew. It took a minute for him to finally look away before addressing Strika.

“I think it would be in Lord Megatron’s best interest if we report to him the bomb was a success,” he said.

Strika replied, “Of course.”

Marceau looked between the two bots and asked, “Do you think you could relay to Lord Megatron that I might have an idea for a weapon with the Energon provided but a much more ‘grounded’ arsenal, so to speak. I would love to hear his opinion on it.”

The purple femme gave a gesture of appreciation, “Will do, buddy.”

Lugnut and Strika were less than thrilled but didn’t speak their minds while Clobber was openly excited, mostly because of the weapon process itself than teaming with humans as was expected of Decepticons.

As soon as negotiations had ceased, Clobber and Strika left but Lugnut paused mid-turn with a small grunt, lifting his head a bit as if to sense the air. After a few seconds, he dispersed down the hall before Sidney heard the signature sound of plane turbines. Two purple bombers flew past the window and a plum and gold tank shot out a blast from the side of her giant ion tank cannon that opened a personal portal back to the Nemesis. It was assumed Clobber and Lugnut wanted to take the long way back.

Marceau sighed in relief when the Decepticons were gone before addressing his people. “Alright, signal the President to give Megatron the all-clear that the deal is still strong. You would think the Cons would be a lot stricter. I guess Earth has finally rubbed off on them.”

As he laughed to himself on the last sentence and the people under his command did what they were told with one bot immediately on call with the President, Sidney merely made a scrunching expression to mock her boss. He was a suck-up, didn’t have the gall to stand up to the Decepticons and take what was rightfully his. If anything happened to jeopardize the deal, it would be on him regardless so maybe that’s why.

Sidney did her job and did it well. As she recorded the blast’s damage, she secretly put an external drive in and began downloading the schematics for the bomb. It was the perfect cover, and she knew where the security cameras could see. She was in the clear. No one suspected a thing. Once her boss called it for the day, Sidney went to work.

Taking the drive out casually, she hid it in her breast pocket and waved to her co-workers as she clocked out. The same boring routine was all she needed to keep any suspicions from rising. Once she clocked out and the secondary team of experts took her team’s place to monitor remnants of the bomb and do some testing of their own, she waited in line for the ground bridge. Those from the same city were grouped together as they were bridged to a local port within the city where they could catch transportation.

“Exciting day, huh?”

Sidney flinched a little, peering up from her phone to see a co-worker, Genevieve, a few feet away. They both lived in Lyon. Genevieve, or Genny as she liked to call her, was a spunky girl and was responsible for the launch of the weapon. She was a key supervisor.

Sidney merely nodded, “Yes, it was good.”

Genny watched the bridge coordinator change the destination to Paris where a good chunk of the team was from. “You know, I heard that this bomb was based off that big mech’s, Lugnut’s, nuclear punch. It’s said to be powered by speed, meaning if he were to freefall towards Earth with the weapon active, the pressure of the wind upon falling would charge it. Once he hits the ground, depending on how much power he collected during the fall, it’s said the punch would destroy everything and could get as big as Nightmare! Isn’t that cool?”

Sidney almost rolled her eyes at the so-called “fact” and scoffed, “And how many people lived to tell the tale?”

“Plenty, anyone who wasn’t in range of the blast at least. When Marceau and his supervisors were talking with Megatron and Soundwave, Megatron told them about some of the Cons’ weapons systems, especially Lugnut’s. I would love to see it in action one day.”

“Assuming you aren’t on the end of it.”

Genny sneered as Sidney resumed looking at her phone. “You have no faith. If we keep our deal, Megatron’s not going to backstab us because, if anything, he doesn’t give a shit about what we do anymore. It’s not like fifteen years ago when he was set to destroy humanity and he was hyper focused on stopping anyone that had a similar or different agenda than he did. He grew out of that. We can shape military history, and you’re acting like it’s just another day.”

Sidney faked a smile. “I just have a lot of things to do in a day, can’t stand around waiting every second for anything to work. Besides, why do you care?”

Her co-worker shrugged, “I just like inspiring other people. I always try to see the light at the end of the tunnel, you know? I can’t change your mind, but I hope you remember something: sometimes life is just a leap of faith, but you have to run first.”

“Inspiring, but I have work to do and so do you. You can thank Lugnut next time you see him. Me? I’m going home and getting some sleep.”

Genny was forcing a smile, but Sidney could tell she was a bit disappointed with her attitude. She ignored it as Lyon’s destination popped up on the bridge feed. She had other matters to attend to as soon as she got home.

They split upon exiting the ground bridge to a central train station where other individual ground bridge structures could be seen in different areas for those who either paid for the portals or by big companies and government jobs like hers that had their own through financing. Trains and aircraft were still available to those who preferred the older method or found it cheaper. She needed the train for only a few stops to her apartment.

There was still Genny’s voice in her head though as she sat on the train. Her mentioning the Decepticon weapon systems hatched a future idea of perhaps finding out if each Con’s unique weapons could be copied. She held the USB drive containing the classified bomb schematics with a smirk upon realizing she might have just found her golden goose in the Decepticons’ deal after all.

Sidney paused when she casually put the drive back in her pocket and looked around. From people just getting off work to people going to work, the train held normality against what she was used to. A little girl riding by herself had a sparkling Toy Minicon of bright blue and yellow alert beside her, unaware a passenger had a weapon of mass destruction in the palm of her hands. A Predacon couple lay in the wide, secure middle space with their heads resting on one another peacefully from a presumably long ride. A man and his Nitrotiger were reading the daily newspaper, unbothered and carefree of the strife Sidney could cause if she opened her mouth. It was all peaceful...for now.

When she hit her stop, she walked a few blocks before reaching a complex and using the elevator to get to her apartment. As quickly as she could upon entering, she reached her desk and worked on uploading the schematics right as she sat down at her multi-computer setup. She uploaded the bomb’s layout and watched amused as her computer tried to make sense of the data in such a short time frame while making herself some coffee.

It wasn’t the first time she had sold plans for France’s weapons or military aircraft. Canada once paid her over 50 billion for a high-tech plane, the Jadewing SF-650 designed for both sky and space but only was supposed to be used for military purposes, not for the public. Canada wanted it badly, so she delivered. She sold missiles, a noise blaster capable of rupturing enemy hearing not just through their communications, and she had a null ray prototype her boss had obtained. She didn’t know where they got it, but it was hers to exploit now.

The structure of the bomb was fitted with odd holes where the various Energon crystals were placed. Normally, bombs were made as a solid mass, especially containing its radioactive particles. Why would it risk an easy leak and have the crystals almost out in the open? Then she recalled what Genny said. Lugnut’s weapon grew stronger the more velocity it gained through air as he fell. If a bomb was dropped by any typical qualified flyer, it would have enough time to fall and gather energy from the battering air speed to make the Energon unstable along with the isotopes. Once pressure grew too much, the bomb would detonate and the crystals would enhance the power when ruptured by the singular explosion, creating a super weapon that could destroy anything and everything.

She smiled inward at the irony of the Decepticons basically giving their ultimate weapon to her thinking she couldn’t be what they were: backstabbing liars. She knew what Megatron and his entire team was about. Half of the strife the world faced was because of them; they even betrayed their own home like the sellouts they were. All she was doing was turning the tables on them. It was nothing personal, just business and she had a weapon to sell.

Sidney had been in contact with Russia, Iraq, the United States, and even Egypt. They were the top contenders who sparked interest in the weapon. She went by an anonymous name under untraceable government-grade scrambled addresses and accounts no one knew of. They were perks of the access she had as a trusted member of communications and being an advisor of the classified military weapons program. She felt a bit bad for betraying Marceau’s trust in her as a pioneer of France’s uprising as a lead military force, but she wanted more. These potential buyers had her best interests at heart.

As the data was halfway done loading to a secure document trying to map all its coding, she continued to drink her coffee proudly.

----------------------------------------

Onboard the Nemesis, which lay on the mountain of Decepticon Island, various screens depicting the Cybertronian language displayed the bomb’s internal workings and the formula. Soundwave added notes to the weapon’s structure until something popped up as Lugnut and Strika were arguing.

“I don’t trust them with our technology. They will only bring death to themselves,” Lugnut said.

Strika raised a brow, “And here I thought you didn’t care about humans at all aside from your friend.”

“Missy has proven herself loyal and true. I couldn’t ask for a better partner. The fact is these so-called scientists are so determined to be the best that they are willing to sacrifice their own lives to do it.”

“Not unlike we did all those years ago. Humanity comes with many surprises, including how similar they are to us.”

Lugnut couldn’t help but smile at that, his nine optics peering low to contemplate how right she was. A beeping noise, however, distracted both and they turned to Soundwave who pointed at the screen. Lugnut’s thick neck cables hissed as he lifted his head to read the whole section of data that suddenly appeared.

“Someone has made...a copy of the weapon’s schematics?”

Soundwave nodded and Strika fumed, “A traitor? So quick to go back on their word, so typical. I guess the deal is off-”

The spymaster was quick to hold up a servo and shook his head, “Only one perpetrator, the rest are innocent.”

“How do you know?”

Lugnut paused before answering for Soundwave as he growled, “I think I know who it is.”

Soundwave replied, turning towards the screen away from them, “Stop them however you see fit.”

The bomber glared at the information being translated on the screens with the bomb schematics, his design. In a sudden bout of rage, the panels of his neck spine rose revealing thick barbs among the armor as he roared like a beast, jaws extending to their maximum width with hidden fangs buried in the safety of the interior when his pink pupils contracted to slits.

-----------------------------

Sidney planned on selling the information after work the following day. Uploading all the data almost crashed her hard drive as it had trouble with some of the coding towards the end. No matter because pay day was only seventeen hours away.

Marceau did his normal routine, touching up on the basics of their tasks for the day. The bomb was in production with five on the way. However, something was off about him. He seemed to refuse to acknowledge the success of yesterday like it was a sour taste in his mouth, that was until a woman with a jean jacket supporting the Decepticon symbol on her shoulder and backside, heavily torn pants with fishnets under them, and armor covering her arms down, legs and boots, and on her torso beneath the jacket walked up from behind.

She looked like a punk off the streets, yet the armor was a dead giveaway. They were among a Decepticon soldier but said soldiers were usually fully armored. The only other type it could be was a fabled Deceiver, a human leader usually paired up with one of Megatron’s Twelve Commanders. They were only heard by the nicknames assigned to them. It took Sidney a second to recognize this was RPG, Megatron’s human weapons expert and the companion of Lugnut.

RPG was silent in the matter as Marceau finally began talking about the bomb but there was a dark expression on her face. She was scoping the room for something or someone. Sidney was hidden in the crowd but if there were suspicions of a breach, one she was responsible for, then everyone, including her boss, was on high alert. But how could they know?

Once Marceau was done, everyone went back to their jobs. Sidney pretended she was the same as everyone else but deep down something was wrong, and she knew it. Why was a Deceiver here? Why was Lugnut’s partner here?

She ignored it by acting as she usually did until Genny sat beside her. “Megatron sent his goon to watch over us, muttered something about sensitive information.”

Sidney grew startled for a second but immediately calmed down and engaged her to keep Genny from getting suspicious. “Maybe that’s why Marceau was acting weird. But who would do such a thing?”

“Someone who doesn’t care for loyalty to the company and who makes bad decisions. I mean, how stupid do you have to be to steal classified information from the Decepticons?”

That made Sidney freeze. She felt a bit pissed at the comment but at the same time, there was a slight mix of fear. She had never been afraid before because the only danger was human interference, something she was accustomed to daily. Decepticons getting involved in her business made for a much deadlier fate if caught. Unlike humans who would imprison her, Decepticons would kill her and possibly her family whom she had donated some of her money too. They may have been current allies, but they were far from nice.

With her life now at risk, she realized the cocky pride of her achievement was nothing more than false reassurance. Now that she was a target, she no longer felt the same pleasure money could make for her, but the damage was done.

Then she noticed RPG whispering something to Marceau who looked outraged then saddened, almost like his heart had been pulled out. The only thing she could make out through his lips were “as you wish.” What did that mean? What did that entail? Her paranoia was growing, and Genny caught it.

“Are you okay?”

Sidney’s façade was slipping. She had never been caught before and now she had no clue what to do. “I have to go to the bathroom. Too much coffee.”

Genny watched her and frowned, the same look she then noticed RPG had as well as her boss. She felt eyes on her and instinctively, she needed to get away.

Straying down the empty halls towards the bathroom, she began to feel a shiver work its way down her spine. The halls seemed ghostly, yet something was among them out of place. She paused in front of an intersection that seemed void of people. Four ways to go but nowhere to run. Three of the halls had dim lights, but the one on her right seemed darker. She ignored it to rub her temples in frustration until red light seemed to emit around her.

The darkened hall wasn’t just dark. Four optics slowly opened with the signature red glow and pupils all crossed to peer down at her with a snarl. Sidney slowly turned to see them before they moved. Dragging his head on the floor to turn it and face her directly, now all nine optics of Lugnut’s stared enraged. She couldn’t even back away when he let out a loud animalistic bellow right in her face. Scared, Sidney ran.

She barely moved out of the way as he pushed himself up and slammed his servo down where she had been standing prior, creaking cracks on the floor. Clambering on all fours to peer around the corner quickly, he watched her flee down the hall as he rumbled, his throat cables vibrating from the deep noise. Standing up, he stomped after her.

Sidney stumbled with the shaking footsteps as she turned a corner into the cafeteria which was opened by visual personnel clearance only. The few people within looked at her confused as she ran through the tables until a raging Lugnut smashed through the concrete wall, briefly falling onto all fours again before bellowing in pursuit.

“You traitor! Run like a coward! You won’t get far!” He yelled out as Sidney exited the cafeteria into the lobby. “Think you can steal from me?!”

People fled as Lugnut giant pedes threatened to crush them if they didn’t get out of his way. He didn’t care for their lives as he was only determined to hunt Sidney.

The lobby had no exit as the only way out of the facility was through a ground bridge or a secure access that she had no clearance to. The Nemesis had its own specialty codes for the access all Decepticons carried. Knowing she couldn’t escape, she hid behind a pillar to the second story extension of the lobby as Lugnut came crashing through the cafeteria again. Pieces of debris were flung everywhere as he scoured the crowd of running humans for his prey.

“You dare betray Lord Megatron’s will?! I shall make you suffer, fleshling!”

He growled and put his helm close to the ground. The sound of air being pushed and a faint cloud of dust rising past her made her shiver. She could hear his vents on the side of his neck trying to sense her. He gave a grunt of curiosity and slowly, the red haze of his optics reflecting off the floor indicated how close he was. It glowed brighter and she carefully walked around the pillar to stay out of sight when the right side of his face appeared right as she ducked out of the red glare. The four visible optics scanned the spot she had been at, and he hissed in irritation.

“Lugnut!”

Sidney barely peered around to see RPG walking up to the titan Decepticon as the latter backed off from his pursuit. He turned to face her and shook with unfathomable rage.

“She’s still here. I will find her, crush her for her impudence!”

RPG laughed, “It’s not like she can go anywhere. The ground bridge is offline and there’s nothing but desert for miles. You will get your chance, buddy.”

Lugnut punched the floor leaving cracks in it as he angrily shouted. “It is MY plans she stole. It is MY technology! And defying Lord Megatron is just as bad! I gave them the power of the greatest weapon ever seen on Cybertron and they defile it? I think not! I will kill her if I must tear down this entire facility piece by piece!”

Suddenly, Lugnut paused and began sniffing the air through the vents on his neck again, sensing the odor of coffee that was most prominent where a coffee machine was not. His optics contracted with a snarl as his spine jutted out and the barbs hidden among it rattled. He looked at the pillar with a scowl.

“Eavesdropping, are we? As if you could sink any lower, girl.”

Sidney eyes went wide, and she immediately sprinted right as he hit the pillar. The whole thing came down with part of the second floor damaged with debris falling off its underside. Lugnut roared at her as RPG brought out a gun, but Sidney saw how quickly Lugnut deflected his rage at the movement.

“Don’t shoot her! She’s mine to kill!”

She needed to get the ground bridge up and running. It was her only chance. She went into a smaller hall towards the ground bridge maintenance. Knowing Lugnut couldn’t follow this way, she heard him smash his fist through the concrete doorframe, sending the remnants of the door flying past and nearly decapitating her. She gave a fearful cry when it bounced off the wall before skidding to a halt on the floor.

The pipes for the energy required to use the ground bridge appeared from the ceiling at a certain point and led down the hall where a large metal door sat secure. She quickly used her pass to get in and ran to the console. While she tinkered with the various buttons and levers used to maintain and control the ground bridge, she heard Lugnut forcing his way through the condensed hall with a snarl.

“Come on, come on, come on!”

When she finally got the system to respond, she pulled the large lever down and watched as the pumps providing the energy came to life. The black screens turned on to show the bridge was now operational but before she could bask in her success, Lugnut tore at the door.

Sidney let out a scream as his servo tried to squash her before ripping his arm back with pieces of the floor as she fled to the only other exit to the room, a vent she was barely able to squeeze through. Going upward proved the most difficult but possible. Lugnut sneered and roared before crawling to try and cut her off in her escape.

The vent proved tiring and hot, reducing her to tears as she heard Lugnut somewhere within her range but unsure of where exactly she was. One wrong move and he could simply blow up the vent itself but there were multiple vents, so she hoped her movements weren’t detectable.

She abruptly hit her head when the vent was jostled hard but only continued as fast as she could go as she heard him yell, “I’ll tear you apart! Rip you in half like the spineless traitor you are!”

Despite the vents being pounded on, she managed to reach the lobby again and kicked out the grate below her only to fall several feet. She hit the floor and winced, whimpering as she held her back. But knowing time was short, she hobbled towards the active ground bridge near the lobby’s right wall. Normally, a technician operated it for coming and going employees. It was forbidden for others to access unless it was an emergency...well, it was as much of an emergency as it could be.

She didn’t bother putting in the coordinates as Lugnut busted through the second floor through the Transformers’ entrance and stomped over just in time to see her. He jumped as she ran in, his landing causing the building to shake and threw her off balance on her way through.

The ground bridge spat her out and she hit the ground hard with a sob, clutching the dirt before forcing herself up. It closed and Lugnut had not followed her. At first, she was relieved but then she peered around and saw a desolate landscape void of all life. Shadows engrained in the dirt made no sense when there was nothing to cast them until she made out the tip of a house, a few trees, and other small objects. Then it dawned on her: the shadows were real, but they were remnants of the blast of the Nightmare bomb that seared their form into the ground like permanent tattoos. She was in the middle of the detonation site!

The sound of a plane roaring in the distance made her turn to see the airstreams barely visible coming from the far away facility she worked at. In the middle of a desert, the only place to run was anywhere but the direction of the Decepticon. As she ran, she tried to contact Marceau but found her cellphone’s signal was jammed, not out of service. Suddenly, a message popped up from an unknown number.

YOU’RE FIRED!

The phone abruptly rang right as she saw it, making her nearly drop it in surprise as she peered back to watch the now visible outline of a bomber heading towards her miles above. She held it to her ear but said nothing and knew she didn’t need to.

“And terminated,” Lugnut hissed. “Tell me, Sidney, when the bomb over Hiroshima went off, what do you think those citizens thought in their final moments? Fear? Pain? Defeat? Or maybe nothing at all...but wait, half of that has already been expressed by you. Funny, you were oh so cocky when you sold the missiles that you didn’t know were on loan from Starscream to reverse engineer, or what about that sound blaster you were excited to sell the plans of that Soundwave had graciously given as a first impression to your superiors? You think we haven’t been in contact with your military from the start? You think the bomb was our only enlistment for our deal? You’re a bigger fool than anyone, and you fell for it.”

She slowed down until she stopped in her tracks wide-eyed, unable to respond. Her mind screamed at her to do something, but what could she do? He was already on his way hunting her down like a common animal and to Decepticons, humans always were just that. Like a stupid animal, she did what she thought she could get away with and they baited her to keep trying until she slipped. How many other transactions had they witnessed before allowing such a powerful weapon to be copied by a mere human? Her silence only made Lugnut laugh.

“Oh, and don’t bother calling your trading partners about hiding their involvement. Soundwave has already dispatched them as we speak. We, of course, weren’t a hundred percent certain it was you, but the bomb gave you away like a cyber-rat lured to a trap by Energon scraps. You play with fire, you get burned, Sidney, and the flames are only getting hotter.”

She looked at Lugnut approaching but then noticed he started going upward instead of down towards her. Higher he climbed through the clouds up to the stratosphere. She could glimpse the power of his thrusters igniting blue to push himself at a faster pace.

Then he said in a cruel tone, “You’ve watched the beauty of destruction behind a closed cage but allow me to show you a new perspective of things. You want to know how the bomb works truly? I can show you, up close and personal.”

Up high, Lugnut transformed once he hit a point in the stratosphere and did a small twist as air streams emitted from his wrists. In a skydiver’s pose, he fell towards the ground. Sidney saw him and he knew she did. Suddenly, he shifted his left arm back to reveal a red detonator and energy pulsing along the sides. Vent covers opened and caught the air on the way down, sucking up the air and with each thousand feet, his weapon beeped. As more air was consumed, the visual energy strip on the side of the arm indicating the power level rose starting at blue before a light of green stacked on top of it.

He held his weaponized back with his normal arm outreached parallel to it in a battle-ready pose. He fell past the same cluster of clouds as his weapon gave another beep as the power increased. He sneered with all nine of his optics narrowed.

Sidney slowly came to the realization of his plan. Then she remembered what Genny said. I heard that this bomb was based off that big mech’s, Lugnut’s, nuclear punch. Nuclear punch...it was Lugnut’s weapon of choice. To reverse engineer such a powerful instrument of destruction was unheard of, but it was like playing God for one second. What happened when God decided to take revenge? She had a feeling she was going to find out.

She watched with a mere gasp as he sped towards her from above, her cellphone dropping to the ground. She was a part of the test now; nowhere to run, not that it would matter. He was close enough that she could see the lights of the power level reach critical red.

Her ego deflated, she stared at the oncoming Decepticon. The light of the detonator was the most prominent color of crimson she had ever seen. At first, she felt sorrow that her life was now for naught. All her accomplishments were meaningless; her life was meaningless. Then her mood shifted to understanding. It was her own damn fault. She knew that, and there was no more arguing with herself that nothing that happened in the past hour wasn’t deserved.

It was almost slow motion how the blaring red button of Lugnut’s weapon was found to be mere feet from her face. It was funny though; Genny was right all along. Nightmare was just a knockoff of real power. The ultimate weapon was now unleashed for her to see at last.

Lugnut punched the ground, and everything went white. The desert floor nearly glowed as cracks and ripples of energy caused parts of it to burst upward, exploding with the power of 100 megatons of pure energy. The sound of its power sliced through the air in seconds. Every cloud in the sky vaporized as the faint distant mountains outlined at the corner of the desert rumbled. The quake alone caused the air pockets undisturbed for millions of years trapped in the ground to rupture, leaving chaos in their wake.

When the light died, a giant plume of smoke with blue flames was visible far past the desert’s expansion. The scientists and staff in the bomb facility were forced to duck for cover as the explosion shook the very foundation of the compound. Electricity surged, some parts shattered, and consoles flickered in and out several times in seconds. The damaged second floor balcony came crashing down as RPG snuck into a crevice free from falling debris. When the quake finally died, everyone was terrified.

Marceau, Genny, and the others stared in absolute shock as the bright blue light shined down on the desert that now looked unrecognizable. The windows were shatter-proof, given by Caminus technology to be able to withstand anything, but the cracks on the exterior glass were alarming, especially to a few native Caminiens working under Marceau.

Lugnut appeared among the smoke departing and the crater in which he stood in panting heavily. His armor was darker with burn marks, but he proved immune to his weapon given it was a part of him. He stared at the ground still with his arm embedded down in it where Sidney had once been. Steam rose from him with a hiss in the silence.

Slowly, he pulled his arm out of the ground and transformed it back to his regular servo as it gave off a noise of energy depletion. He used so much of his power that his body felt drained, but he stood with a mere grimace.

“Your bomb, my power. I hope it exceeded your expectations, Sidney,” he said in thin air before grinning at the hole in the ground.

He suddenly let out a roar that turned into a barking mad laugh. It was heard even at the facility where no one knew what to say.

At home in Lyon, Sidney’s computer displayed the schematics for many projects before the final one appeared of Nightmare itself. The screen glitched as the bomb’s ulterior design bragged its complicated formula and structure until the system unit was crushed by a pulsing dark purple appendage. The system went dead, and Soundwave’s reflection was seen on the blackened screen staring as the data disappeared permanently. Like the rest of her stuff in her apartment, it was just another pile of junk out of service.

Chapter Text

“So, what are we looking for, Jordie?”

“You’ll see. Now shut up and start drilling, Larry!” Larry did what he was told with a grunt of disapproval as Jordie gestured to the third person in the room. “I need you to grab anything in your path, Valiant, as soon as we open it. You have the subspace.”

The orange mech nodded, “Copy that. You break it and I’ll take it.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

As Larry drilled into the lock and played around with the next step of opening the safe, Jordie smiled to himself as his Velocitronian companion crouched down beside him. They had waited all day to do this. With the bank having just received donations and the city needing to store valuables meant to be unveiled at the new mayor’s inauguration, it was the perfect time to take whatever lay in the vaults. It paid that he had a few friends in the right places to get security off their backs for the night as well as Valiant having the means to scramble the automatic alarm.

Larry gave an okay gesture and twisted the handle to the vault. The large door opened to reveal cash, gold, and several items of interest. They made way for Valiant to do what he did best. Shoving the cash and gold into his subspace first, the mech snickered while the two humans moved around him to grab the remaining artifacts. A necklace made with unrecognizable jewels, most likely worth a fortune, and a trophy of honor that was meant to be presented to the mayor as tribute to his success. However, Jordie glanced over all of them when he spotted an unusual item.

“Hey, boys, get a load of this.”

Valiant slowed his movements but didn’t stop while Larry raised a brow as Jordie grabbed a peculiar staff. It’s gleaming black metal with a levitating large blue crystal and several smaller ones rotating slowly around it was a sight to see. It was taller than him at 7 feet and its grip had various symbols upon it. The Kanjian language was a mysterious tongue even among the other cybernetic worlds. It was nonetheless fascinating to see such an item in the vault and Jodie could only smile to himself how whatever it was meant to be or do, it was now his.

He stroked its neck admiring the engravings firsthand until it flickered. He paused as the crystal turned a hellish orange briefly before returning to blue. He looked between it and his crew who also froze. When nothing happened, he simply shrugged.

“Guess it just wanted to read who I was,” he laughed.

Larry frowned and slowly shook his head, “I wouldn’t think that’s a good thing. What if it’s a security precaution?”

“What, like read our minds, our intentions? Sounds stupid coming from you-”

Valiant then hissed at them. “Hey, any minute now that alarm can go. I can’t hold it off forever! If you want the damn thing, take it or leave it!”

Jordie merely chuckled at his companion’s persistence and threw him the staff which he put in his subspace like all the other items. Once they had as much as they could load, Valiant made sure the coast was clear before jumping out the window and transforming into a muscle car, making a donut maneuver to park and wait for his human colleagues. Jordie and Larry quickly entered when his doors swung open, and Valiant hit the gas as soon as they were settled.

They sped through the town, taking as many backroads as possible to minimize getting caught, especially after hearing the alarms finally blaring at a distance. Police patrols responded and they made themselves disappear. Once they got to the outskirts of the city, Valiant pulled into the warehouse they called their base and let the humans out before emptying himself of their loot. The last he threw out was the staff, but Jordie caught it before it hit the ground and stumbled afterwards careful not to fall.

“Hey now, easy! Some of this is priceless stuff! It’s not valuable if it’s broken.”

Valiant merely scowled before moving to the makeshift couch he had to himself near scattered barrels of Energon and a TV. As Larry sealed the warehouse doors, Jordie plopped into his own comfy recliner and turned on the flatscreen to see a news report on their own crime spree. He laughed as he busted out a cigarette and kept the staff close like he was a king in waiting. Larry joined them on a backwards chair near their bar while Valiant readjusted to lay on his back to get comfortable.

Jordie snickered, “I’m telling you, boys, tomorrow will be a brand-new day. We get to go on vacation in the Bahamas. Valiant, I think we could find you some pretty tail too, my treat. I heard there’s some hot babes of all types out there.”

The mech grinned before saying, “I wouldn’t mind that one bit.”

Larry mused, “Dude, I would love to visit some of their restaurants. I heard they are to die for.”

Jordie leaned the staff against the coffee table as he nodded, “For sure. The bars too. Massages, poolside service, the whole deal ours for the taking. You cannot ask for anything better.”

“Massage definitely. My back is fucked,” the other man laughed.

As they watched the newsreel on the bank, talking among themselves, the staff hissed as its energy within the crystal moved slowly.

---------------------------

After selling the gold to a reliable buyer and bagging up the cash with the rest of their loot, they bridged to the Bahamas as planned. The good thing about having access to a non-restricted ground bridge? No pat downs and no security. Smuggling was easier though the bridges they used were certainly illegal. If the systematic code the bridge gave off was traced, there would be an issue, but no one knew of theirs anyway so no problems.

New Providence had some of the best hotels in the country and they chose one close to the beach with a spectacular view of the ocean. Valiant and Larry got their own separate rooms, breaking apart from Jordie as he went to his own. He hummed with his sunglasses on and a casual tee. As he unlocked his door, he heard a faint but noticeable ticking from a clock. At first, he ignored it, but the sound grew louder when suddenly, a figure passed him. He didn’t even hear the footsteps and flinched when the pocket watch attached to a gold chain was snapped shut. As soon as he turned to look at the person, they went around the corner.

Jordie sneered but ignored it. The more he didn’t swell on the creepiness of it, the better. He put down an elongated bag on his bed and peeked inside to see the staff still resting well on its journey. He planned to sell it soon. The Bahamas, although beautiful with nice natives, did have a few dark spots where the unspeakable can and would happen when no one paid attention.

“All thanks to you, my friend,” he muttered, tapping the crystal humorously. He carefully stored the bag on the top shelf of the closet but not before taking a few wads of cash to hide on his person for some fun.

He left his room and headed to Larry’s down the hall. “Larry, you ready?”

Larry walked out with a Jurassic Park t-shirt and basketball shorts with simple vans on. “Ready when you are.”

“Let’s go get Valiant and enjoy life, shall we?”

Once they got their companion, all three diverted to the bar first on the beach. There were two bartenders, a human with dreads curled up into a loose bun and an Autobot with a green and yellow color scheme. They worked in tandem serving the couples and single individuals that wandered up to the large bar. Behind them was a mini Predacon dragon that blew fire on the rims of drinks for those who ordered the specialty.

“Hey, Dracona, a little sip sip on the side low,” the bartender said to the small Predacon. “We may have to raise our prices on those Fire-Burnin’ Bahama Mamas; we are going in for a high sell run for a month until the end of the season.”

The Predacon gave a chirp and flew to the blackboard with the prices, rubbing off the specialty Bahama Mamas’ current price and marking the new one to an over two dollar increase.

“That’s stupid,” Larry muttered on the side.

Valiant had already ordered a spiced Energon cocktail, enjoying the taste. Then they all heard the most magical sound. Four bikini-clad women, two slim Seekers and an elegant grounder wandered up the beach laughing. All three of them turned to stare at the sight with their mouths open even as a few of the girls looked their way.

Jordie saw among them a gorgeous black-haired and dark tan girl who seemed to be the partner of the equally stunning purple grounder with tattoos on her chassis. “You seeing this, Valiant?”

“I’m seeing this, I’m seeing this, I’m-what are the chances of us getting laid though?”

“We play our cards right, at least 50% guarantee,” Jordie grinned. “Hey, ladies, why don’t we buy you a few drinks, eh?!”

The Seeker femmes seemed to be talking among themselves and looking at Valiant who hid his blush for a cockier grin. The other girls slowly migrated over to them with their playful demeanors. The three Transformers who took interest in Valiant sat next to him. One of the femmes had small fangs and the orange mech was a bit taken aback but slowly wondered what kissing her would feel like. He didn’t mind a little blood if it was accidentally drawn.

As the three sweet-talked each girl, a man and a woman sat in the corner of the bar. Jordie paid them no mind until he heard the ticking. There was something profound about the noise, something he couldn’t explain. When he noticed some of the girls looking towards the couple, he realized they didn’t hear the clock as they eyed them with lust more so than annoyance. Then Jordie looked over as well.

An older gentleman who had a nice black polo with white and gold designs, greyish white hair slicked back with a goatee stylized with faint stripes in trim work, sunglasses on his head, black boarder shorts with white patterns along the edging and gold chains for décor, and rings upon his fingers...held a gold pocket watch. He merely tapped it with his manicured thumb. The guy had tattoos on his arms and legs that went down to his knuckles and edge of his toes, expresso skin and a muscular physique, probably a sixty-five-year-old yoga grandpa or something. Faint white stripes that blended into black dragon claws spread onto each finger like he had a secondary hand overlaying his own. Normally, tattoos in his age range would have faded unless brand new but it didn’t look new, nor was it faded. Maybe touched up? There was a tattoo on his neck that curved to the clothed backside, but it was not distinguishable. Staring down at the watch with unusually grey eyes, he suddenly snapped it shut again and put it in his pocket. Weirder still was the Predacon that helped with the drinks grew deathly silent as if awaiting something that had yet to come with the man’s presence.

The woman beside him, near the same age, was curvy and thick with a one-piece white swimsuit with dark blue designs on it and silver embroidery. Her waist had an open patch lined with silver trim to reveal her pierced midriff. Her hair was pure white but had blue dye at the ends and in splotches farther up. A beach hat and sunglasses, she did seldom to mask the noticeable vitiligo that was among her body. It was patterned like fine paint among her bronze skin. She proudly showed it off and looked beautiful; Jordie was a bit jealous of this mysterious man having a babe like that, made the skinnier girls he had a bit boring.

“Sky Juice and a Yellow Bird, little ice please,” the man said taking out his wallet and slapping a B$50 down. “Keep the change.”

Jordie was flabbergasted at the man. He had wealth and there was a question in the robber’s mind about just what could he afford to lose? The bartender gave a big smile and didn’t hesitate to prioritize him with such a big tip. When the man smiled back, faint edges of canines glistened in the Bahamian sun.

Jordie looked back to see Larry staring as well as the girls until abruptly, a few of them left to say hi to the couple. To his surprise, the couple didn’t mind one bit as the girls stuck to them like glue. One of the girls even began flirting with the woman herself.

Larry grinned, “I’d love to see that big chick with them. Fivesome? Maybe with the Transformer babes too. You, me, and Valiant all getting a good show?”

Jordie was about to agree when the handsome older man waved the girls off sweetly. They didn’t pout as he rejected them, merely offered their phone number which the man smiled at. The woman also kindly rejected. The three Transformers who came with them wandered off after them, not before sending Valiant a kiss in the wind. That stunned the three more than anything that the girls would leave the willing bachelors from being let go by the unwilling party. That did give Jordie the opportunity to address the elephant on the beach...and no, not the real techno-organic one playing in the water the girls passed as they left.

Jordie moved closer to the older man who barely acknowledged him but still palmed the closed pocket watch. As the man got his drinks and gave one to his lady, Jordie snapped at him as nice as he could. “Pardon me, mister, but we were talking to those girls you just drove away.”

“I’m dreadfully sorry,” the man said with a deep voice. “I didn’t mean to impose. We’re just regulars here.”

Jordie’s confusion rose. “Regulars? How many times have you been out this way?”

“Sixteen trips a year on slow times. We’ve...retired long time ago.”

“Long time ago-okay, you don’t look older than 60-”

“Thank you.”

“-so how the hell did you retire so fast?”

“We are the ki-” the man was suddenly nudged by his stunning wife who then brought her sunglasses down to the edge of her nose in warning. He corrected himself quickly, “We...we are kind entrepreneurs and devoted lawyers who have been successful in what we do. Time is money, they say, and we keep track of all our finances and charities as a team. We saved up more than enough to last us until the end.”

Jordie mused, “Business lawyers, huh? I may need some lawyers eventually...what are your names again?”

The woman finally spoke with a voice that sent a bunch of signals in the right places. “Kira and Percy Koroney.”

Just then, Mr. Koroney tilted his head to the side and eyed the watch gripped in his hand closed. He grinned slowly, revealing his pristine white teeth and diverse set of canines among them. “Time is slowly running out to return it.”

“What?” Jordie frowned.

He coughed, “Oh, uh, we borrowed something from the hotel, only can keep it for a certain amount of time. My dear, we need to get a move on after this.”

Larry shrugged at Valiant who raised a brow while Jordie huffed, “Huh...well, Mr. And Mrs. Koroney, I’m sorry to bother you and you have a good rest of your day.”

As he signaled for his team to leave, he heard the pocket watch again. As Mr. Koroney drank the Yellow Bird, he seemed awfully dedicated to watching that clock he carried around, and Jordie had to wonder why. He wasn’t buying the borrowing comment; there was something they were hiding. He then saw the man lean over to his wife and whisper something, the dragon tattoo of his hand clenching the pocket watch shut once more alongside his real hand.

The rest of the day, the paranoia of the encounter with the couple they met at the bar faded as the three walked the beach and sometimes stopped to simply lie on the sand to take in the afternoon sun. Since it was the first day of their vacation, there was a lot to do. Jordie was the first to retire while Valiant went to cruise the city and Larry had got to befriend a barista down in the lobby of their hotel. Jordie, however, lay on his bed slowly thinking.

Mr. Koroney’s pocket watch reminded him of one his mother had. It was gold and had a picture of his grandmother, her mother, inside. He silently smirked as he recalled her showing him how to read it when he was five and how to use it as a makeshift stopwatch when need be.

Just then he heard whispering coming from his closet and wandered over to see the staff pulsing. He snidely muttered, “Come tomorrow, you might just get a new home here. I bet the Bahama dealers would love you.”

It seemed to grow silent, and he placed it back, shutting the closet doors closed. The whispers didn’t start again, and he got a good night’s sleep. The next day, we went to the café beside the hotel where Larry and Valiant met up with him. To his surprise, the couple they had seen on the beach were enjoying a few cups of coffee, souse, fresh fruit and Johnnycakes at the far end of the café. Dressed in casual attire, still in black, gold and white oddly, Mr. Koroney still kept track of that pocket watch.

Larry caught him staring and swatted his arm. “You know, you’ve been eyeing that guy since we got here. You need to stop. We have money now and you’re not using any of it. What’s up with you?”

Just then, Percy Koroney caught him staring and smiled before alerting his wife in the tinted blue-white sun dress. She gestured to him and against his better instincts, Jordie left his pals and went to the couple.

“This resort isn’t as big as it looks apparently,” the man smirked.

“What can I say except you two stand out among the crowd,” Jordie said. “You know black looks like you’re trying to get heatstroke in record time, right?”

Kira gave her husband an expression that nearly screamed “I told you so” to which the other merely scoffed, “My color of choice. I...like it. I can tolerate plenty of heat. I was born in a city where the climate is like this all the time. Lots of activity where sweat doesn’t mean a thing is where I prefer to stay.”

Jordie merely remarked, “Are you talking the density of the air or your sex life? Not something someone of your age can brag about a whole lot.”

Percy sang, “And you would bring up the subject of sex because?”

He knew it was a bold statement, but he couldn’t help it. The guy opened himself to getting caught with questionable wording, so Jordie was going to call him out on it. The couple seemed to backtrack a little with his lack of response but then Mr. Koroney grinned.

“Well then, that’s certainly the highlight of the morning. I suppose there’s some time for something like that.”

Kira shrugged pleasantly and smiled at Jordie. “You tell us the time and place and maybe we could get together?”

Jordie was flushed now. That wasn’t in his game plan, but it was his vacation with stolen money. If he was going to enjoy it, might as well.

“But I must warn you, my boy, I never start something, but I do end it. So, if you wish to tread into this territory, it might not be our only encounter in such a manner.”

The domineering tone was a definite turn on for him and he meekly nodded before whispering, “Your place, I guess?”

The hint of robust fangs was revealed with a smirk and the older man wrote down their hotel room number and location, something Jordie was quick to slip into his pocket. He turned away and saw Larry give him a thumbs up much to his embarrassment. Valiant was less open about his opinion on it as the mech merely shook his head in a playful demeanor more so than an annoyed one.

“So, are you going to get some of that?” His friend said, moving his eyebrows suggestively.

“Shut up, Larry.”

That night though, Jordie grew curious. He placed the staff to the side of his room before talking to it. “I think I’m losing my mind. I’ve never been bold like this.”

The pocket watch sound suddenly echoed in the room, and he winced, covering his ears. It sounded like a drumming on every wall but died fast. However, he was quick to notice the staff was pulsing to the time’s casual beat.

“Time is running out to return it,” a ghostly echo flashed in his mind.

Jordie shook his head concerned, peering around the room with a sneer. “Yeah, right.”

He pulled at his pockets and the note Mr. Koroney gave him fell out. He was hesitant to pick it up but did so anyway despite his senses screaming for him not to. But those voices melted to desire thinking about the couple. He was on vacation, right? Who cared what he did or who for that matter. It was time to enjoy himself more than he tried to. Clutching the paper in his hand, Jordie made his executive decision and went out the door.

The room number led him to the big suites, the penthouse rooms. There were only four penthouse rooms that could be given out and all of them were occupied. The hall between them was wider than normal and the four doors were a very descent space away from each other. He wished he could have one of the rooms, but they were reservation only, as in several months out-type reservations. That was time he unfortunately didn’t have beforehand. The suite he needed was the farthest on the righthand side. When he got to the door though, he heard whispers.

“And your plan is...?”

“We wait for the opportune moment, my Queen. I’ll get what I want in the end regardless, but this could be a bonus play toy for us.”

Jordie found it curious that Mr. Koroney referred to his wife as a queen.

“I trust you, just don’t go overboard.”

“I think this conversation is best suited another time. We have company-”

Oh shit. Jordie was quick to turn on his heel feeling guilty but then the door opened though the older man seemed a bit curious more than enraged for the eavesdropping. “How much did you hear?”

Jordie gulped and shrugged, “You, uh, called her a queen and said something about a play toy?”

The man smiled, “Yes, that. She is my queen and I’m her king. Perhaps you would...like to know more with a drink?”

Being let inside with Kira at the built-in bar and seeing the suite firsthand blew his mind. They had a lounge balcony with a hot tub next to the windows, a kitchen, and he got a peek into the bedroom that looked like it had been used for rougher activities, causing him to blush like mad. Percy lit a cigar but blew the smoke through the sides of his mouth almost like a fire-breathing animal would. The few canines he supported made him appear beastly with his slightly rumpled grey-white hair.

“If you can believe it, I’m not a smoker but I like the flavor. Want some?”

Jordie politely declined as he looked at Kira who was half naked. Barely what could be considered a bra and tight shorts hugged her frame, leaving nothing to the imagination. She had tattoos on her back, some type of tribal tiger with bat-wings and horns clawing up her spine. She sent him a smile again, sipping from her bottle of beer and winking.

“Jordie, is it? Short for Jordan?”

He nodded a bit too fast and almost made himself dizzy. Hearing his name on her lips with a purr made him think things he was unsure of if he was allowed to be with her husband right next to her. “My friends call me Jordie, but I don’t mind either way.”

“Either way of what?” The older man asked amused.

“E-Either way of my name being said but that t-too.”

Percy finally broke the tension by asking, “Do you really want to commit to...us? If you aren’t comfortable, I won’t obscure your boundaries.”

Jordie replied quickly, “I do. I want to know what makes you two so special. I feel like it’s fate we meet so I’m more than willing to go through with this. After all, it’s our vacation, right? Who cares?!”

Percy and Kira peered at each other before the former snuffed his cigar and approached Jordie. The man froze as careful hands caressed his cheeks before slowly pulling him forward to a kiss. He expected there to be a tobacco taste but there was something metallic about it, not unwanted as it blended with what could be described as a fruit cocktail. He didn’t resist as he was helped out of his clothes. Percy gave a light chuckle as Jordie grew eager. Then he felt the older man’s chest and paused.

“Do you, like, work out every day or what? Protein shakes? Gyms? What is your secret?"

Percy gave a brief glance at the ceiling as if he was trying to find an excuse. “It’s...years of hard work, let’s just say.”

“For a lawyer?” Jordie grinned, “Treat your clients with something extra to get that workout?”

“You would be surprised.”

He was on the bed in no time. It was soft, curving to his body like a mold plaster as Percy took his place on top of him. Then came the biting as he was rubbed against. Apparently, those canines weren’t just for show. A big hickey with small streaks of blood was left on his neck in a non-harmful area, a claiming spot.

Kira had at some point moved to a chair on the side, but he was so focused on Mr. Koroney, he had little wonder what Mrs. Koroney was doing even among a mixture of moans. Time flew by so fast, but the motions seemed to last forever. His prostate certainly never had the experience, but it was flattered the same as Jordie himself who clung to the larger man.

In the midst of their rut, Jordie swore he heard some type of predatory growl and Percy’s eyes shifted ever slightly. The pupils were barely noticed to contract inward but not in normal size. Jordie ignored it like a fever dream, only wanting what he desired.

----------------------------

The next morning...

Jordie was asleep next to a body he had familiarized himself with. The morning wood didn’t help in the recognition, and he grinned. Kira was already awake, moving around suite in her quick-placed sundress but the light showed she wasn’t wearing undergarments.

Still with his eyes closed, Percy said, “Now, I do hope you aren’t staring down my beloved wife. I don’t want to make you forget about her.”

“Too late, stuck in my brain. Now, I should probably get going,” Jordie said.

He snickered as Percy showed slight disdain for him leaving the bed but remained cuddled into the pillow with a sleepy huff, stream blowing from the tense nostrils with an abnormal, guttural growl...the same one Jordie had heard last night. The man paused and peered at Percy curiously. No man he had ever known would do that. Valiant had a type of snore like a deep rumble within the chassis but that was the closest thing he could pinpoint it as.

Suddenly, Mr. Koroney spoke with half-lidded eyes and a giant grin. “You know, I could offer you a place among my ‘business’ if you were to simply return what you took. It’s a little conflicting to me to have to punish you with that nice ass of yours.”

Jordie froze up entirely after he put on his pants and was just putting on his shirt. He stared at Percy without a single flinch before stuttering, “I-I-I have no idea what you...you are talking about.”

Now annoyed and slightly disappointed, Percy got up and cracked his neck. “Well, that’s a bit unfortunate.”

The last word came in as a deep snarl, animal-like almost as Percy put on black and white shorts. He moved slowly to keep Jordie from leaving the room, trapping him between himself standing and the bed just behind. He pulled out the pocket watch and then glared at the man.

“Time is wasting, Jordan, and you are beginning to waste mine though I will admit it was quite a breather.”

Jordie frowned, “Mr. Koroney, I don’t know what you are-”

“Yes, you do. That’s why you’re here. And it’s King Kronos to you, human.”

Everything clicked and he panicked realizing he had sex with a Transformer of all things. Since when were holoforms this sophisticated?! Jordie backed away stumbling over the bed as the Transformer in disguise taunted him with the pocket watch swinging helplessly in his tattooed hand, the ticking growly in volume with each swing.

“Don’t you recognize this?”

He looked closer, his eyes widening as he saw his mother’s initials engraved on its cover. When King Kronos caught him staring at it, he merely grinned.

“T-That’s my mother’s!”

The larger being didn’t react until suddenly squeezing the pocket watch. Jordie felt his heart compressing and he didn’t know how. When the king stopped and dropped it to swing by its chain again, his heart was beating wildly, and he nearly slid off the bed.

He whimpered, “Wha…what did you do…to me?!”

The king stood slightly to the side and swung the watch up into his awaiting grasp with a sneer. “You steal something of mine, I take something of yours.”

The ticking grew louder but far more obscure, almost in a broken tone. His heart felt denser, and he couldn’t tell if it was blood building where it shouldn’t be or something even more scary. The pocket watch was waved in front of his eyes once more. He feared it more than anything now.

Jordie then snarled, “What type of sick fuck are you?”

“Tell me, Jordan Freeman, when you stole my gift to New York, did you think it was worth your life? I understand desperation...but sheer greed? Oh, that’s despicable. Your mother’s watch, the one you kept so close to your heart within the memories of childhood, now is your heart. As long as it ticks, your time on this planet will continue but if it stops...” King Kronos pursed his lips in thought before it turned into a calm but malicious smile, fangs now abundant more than previously. He flipped open the cover so Jordie could stare as each second passed with his grandmother’s picture judging him. “Neat little trick, huh? One of my daughters taught me how to do this, something even I in my limitless time never thought to do.”

“P-Please, I’ll do anything...I-I’ll give you the money-”

“I don’t care for money; my wealth is not what defines my power or rule. I’m mostly a benevolent leader, but you...you forced my hand. Bots like me, our relics are sacred and for one of utmost detestable behavior to take it? That’s a punishable offense by death. Didn’t your mother ever tell you to not take what isn’t yours?”

Jordie was silent now, still breathing hard as the watch only grew louder in its taunting. King Kronos merely eyed the watch as he swung it back into his hand again.

“I will keep this. If you value your life as much as you value what you steal, you will rethink your ways. I expect you in New York in two days, assuming you actually do what I ask.” He then smirked, “I rarely get to go on vacation, so I think I’ll be hanging around for the time being. I’ve always wanted to try what you call a mojito, and the people are quite lovely here. Enjoy the rest of your getaway while you can. Oh, and do be mindful of the tides tomorrow, heard there was a small storm coming in.”

The dark laughter echoed and Jordie couldn’t recall when the Transformer moved but he was gone faster than he processed. The ticking of the watch remained for another minute before going silent and he clutched his chest afraid he had passed. He was still alive, still around to know there was a madman in the building with him. Kira, or whoever was in the suite with them, had vanished too. He couldn’t leave the room fast enough.

Nearly bumping into the hotel staff, he raced down to the lobby shaken as Larry and Valiant waved to him. Jordie didn’t wave back, and they frowned at his sudden isolation. Larry came nearly running at him.

“Hey, Jordie, what’s wrong, man? You look like you’ve seen a ghost-”

“Thank you for your input but I-I'm fine.”

“But-”

Jordie almost swatted his shoulder when his friend touched his arm. “Let’s just enjoy ourselves and forget about alright! That’s what we came here to do, right?”

It ate him; he didn’t know if this king, or whatever type of leader the monster was, had been telling the truth or used some type of hypnosis on him to think that it was his mother’s pocket watch and that his life was tied to it. A part of him believed it was just a fever dream...it had to be. A delusion at best. Even as he followed his friends to an offshore water park, his mind was reeling from the hallucination...or was it even that?

Larry had a blast, Valiant didn’t like the water a whole lot and preferred to stay on the floating platforms to rest with a few other Cybertronians who shared similar thoughts, but Jordie at first remained seated on a bench. He flinched a little as he heard a child scream in delight, falling just past him from jumping off a ramp. The aquatic-based Transformer staff that manned the water park floated around with lifeguards stationed on their backs watching over any humans at risk of drowning. They also scared off any potential sharks that might have mistaken playing humans for other prey.

A drenched Larry nudged him. “Come on, Jordie, enjoy the water!”

Before Jordie could protest, he was forced to run and jump in, and the water never felt better until...tick tick TICK. He could hear it; it sounded loud like it was in front of his face. Frantically, he peered around in search of the watch or of Koroney...Kronos, whoever the bastard was. He didn’t realize he was sinking until a servo pulled him out.

“Hey, brother, are you alright?”

A decently build Bahamian and a navy blue Aquatronian he stood on glanced at him as he was placed on the finned backside. Larry swam up beside him concerned. Jordie was embarrassed as he no longer heard the pocket watch. Given how loud it was, he could confirm it was in his head. There was nothing to be afraid of but fear itself...and drowning like he had almost done. He was supposed to be enjoying his vacation, not fearing for his life.

“Yeah, I’m fine-”

“No, you’re not,” Larry said without a beat.

Jordie had nothing to come back with and took his embarrassment in stride. While his friends stayed at the water park, he went back to his hotel and sat lifelessly on his bed. The whispers started again, this time trying to pronounce a word. He thought long and hard on what to do. Maybe he was just going crazy so if he was, why fear anything anymore? Fuck King Koroney-Kronos.

Finally, he had enough. He took a handful of Benjamins and went out. He hailed a cab and the first thing he asked, “Where’s a place to have some fun as in dirty and possibly dangerous?”

The cabbie peered back at him with a stern look. “Why you want to know?”

“Let’s just say I have some cash I want to waste. Think anybody would be interested in that?”

The wide grin the cabbie made was all he needed to know he talked to the right person. “Ay, American, one stop shop in the old underground. My brother will want to hear from you. You give him the money; he sets you up good.”

“Perfect.”

They drove for a good chunk of time to the edge of the city, and he couldn’t believe his eyes. Some dirt had definitely been laid in the fine establishments, and he was all for it. He was escorted by burly men into one of them. Towards the “basement” of the building, a night club was booming. Booze, strippers, and cocaine. A runaway’s dream, and Jordie wanted to get away from everything with his stolen money. He met the cabbie’s brother who immediately looked him up and down with a scoffing noise.

“You want to get away, huh? I make enough to be as rich as you, don’t need your money, American.”

Jordie placed a wad of cash into the man’s hands. “I don’t need it either.”

The bold move was stunning to the Bahamian, but he slowly nodded. “If that’s how you feel, welcome home.”

Girls immediately began moving in on him and he didn’t want to let them go. The rest of the afternoon and night was blurry. He assumed he kissed many of them, maybe did something else. He couldn’t recall. Drinks and blow numbed the insecurities and pain. So, when he woke up well into the following afternoon, he had a severe hangover and was missing the rest of his cash, but a beautiful lady was pressed against his groin which lit the fogginess of it all and he merely smiled. But all good things had to come to an end when he noticed his phone had been blown up with texts and missed calls from both Larry and Valiant.

Jordie couldn’t race to the hotel fast enough and when he got there, neither of his friends were pleased, as they awaited him on the beach. Larry seemed the most hurt of all. “So, where’d you go? Abandoning us like that? After everything?”

“You don’t even know what I’ve been through,” Jordie said.

Valiant frowned, “Obviously, it’s too much to tell those who helped you with the dough. We said we were going to get away and yet, you seem to be drawing attention to yourself like an influencer with no life-”

“Shut the hell up, you filthy robot! You don’t know anything! You don’t know me! You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for me!”

The comment shocked Valiant and everyone around him, and the proud Velocitronian grew resentful. “Fine, you seem to have made your point very clear. It was only a job, not a partnership of over four years or anything. You live your now-rich, perfect life and I’ll stick to my own. I’ll be sure to send word to the boys back home to pack my stuff and be out of your hair as soon as possible.”

Larry stared stunned as Valiant stomped away past a few bystanders who looked at them funny. Then he turned to Jordie with utmost confusion. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Ever since we did that job, you’ve been nothing short of a jackass! Guess we’re too poor or too uncouth to be partying with frat-boy Jordie.”

Before Jordie could answer, Larry stormed off to find Valiant who was already a decent way down the beach. Jordie was left alone, but he didn’t need them. He didn’t need them at all. Just another few ungrateful bums in the world. Alone meant he could do whatever but as he walked away, he froze. In the distance on the paid lounge seating was Koroney-Kronos...King Kronos and his wife relaxing huddled together. What scared him more was the fact that Kronos tilted his head towards him like he knew he was there the entire time...probably did from the screaming match. A deadly smirk played on the older man’s features though pitch-black ray bands hid the expression of the grey eyes. The pocket watch sounded again despite it didn’t appear like the Transformer had it on hand. Jordie ignored it and stormed off to the hotel and without warning, booked a massage for the following day. He heard nothing from his peers and expected nothing.

----------------------------

“You okay, Val?” When the Velocitronian said nothing, Larry just patted his leg. “I’m just going to hit a few waves while the traffic out there is dead. Call me if you need me.”

The night was nice, the breeze of the ocean felt peaceful, and even though a faint storm was nearby, he had no fear as did a few other families who seemed to love the night. It would probably pass. The waves were a little choppy but nothing he couldn’t handle. He paddled out until a small wave came and rode it easily. Doing it again, he loved the breeze, which helped him clear his mind of what Jordie said. Valiant may have been stuck up sometimes but he loved his crew. To hear their friend backlash like that? Unreal. Larry continued surfing.

The waters got worse, and he decided to call it a night. As he paddled inward into a safety zone, the waves suddenly rebounded, tipping him off his board and dragging him back into the ocean. Thunder grew loud far too quick, and he struggled to keep himself afloat. The darkness and the fast-moving waters made the lifeguards unable to pinpoint him despite his attempts at shouting. His voice didn’t even leave his throat. He was going under too fast to make the proper noise.

A groan of a wave shadowed him like a beast in waiting and his eyes went wide as it crashed directly on him. After a few minutes, the ocean settled, and the thunder subsided into the distance past the beach. Larry’s board washed ashore...but he was nowhere to be seen. A lifeguard grabbed it and frantically scoured the water for any sign of a body or another remnant of the man. As small droplets of rain began to fall from the heavens, the faint thundering noise drowned out the desperate calls from the lifeguard in mourning.

-------------------------

That night, he had nightmares. They were of a monstrous fellow, a Transformer that had a dragon/anteater-like face and white blaring optics staring at him, laughing at him. The pocket watch thrummed to the beat of his heart and his soul felt heavy in his body. Lightning and thunder broke loose. He awoke in sweat and had to pace among rain. The storm was unexpected, but not so much that he didn’t recall Kronos’ warning of it. Faint thunder in the distance sounded pure, refreshing against the city’s otherwise party-central motif. Another boom made him realize that a day had already passed. He had one more day to go to New York and return the staff. But he didn’t have the time, nor did it really matter. Fuck it, he was going out with a bang.

The next morning, Jordie was on a warpath. He was extremely tempted to just walk out naked just to spite everyone but decided against it when he saw Valiant with a few of the Seeker babes far out among the beach-bound bars. He looked downtrodden despite the comfort the femmes wanted to give him. Larry was nowhere to be seen. Fuck them too. He even passed Kronos once, flipping him off to the holoform’s raise of a brow. His only real response was Kronos bringing out the pocket watch with an amused grin. It shut him up temporarily, making him grow rigid.

Then, he got his massage, and it was heavenly. The masseuse had hands of an angel, most likely was one at this point. Admittedly, he had a hard-on from it. Less cash, no trouble. Sitting in the lobby awaiting him was Kronos again, the pocket watch swinging out of boredom, and Jordie nearly wanted to snap it shut on the monster’s fingers but that was probably an immediate death sentence if he did. He still had the whole day left. He passed the older man with no regrets and a deadpanned expression-

“It’s too bad about Lawrence Molls. He was a good friend.”

Jordie paused before whipping around with a snarl. “Don’t talk about him!”

King Kronos didn’t seem pleased but not for the reason the human thought. “I understand, not wise to speak ill of the dead.”

His brain ceased almost every function as it tried to register what the Transformer said. “W...What?”

“You didn’t hear? Poor boy went out to swim last night, got caught up with the storm. Body was found a few hours ago.”

Jordie shook his head in disbelief. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?” Kronos asked dead serious. Then a wicked, toothy grin displayed like the Devil was among the living. “You didn’t listen. You could have hired a private flight. Time’s up, Jordan, for everyone. How do you think I got this?”

The pocket watch was almost screaming at him, the sound of his mother’s voice was all he could seem to hear in its place. Kronos didn’t just take the watch...

Jordie nearly tripped out the door to ghostly laughter that followed him down the halls. No one else seemed to hear it but him. He had to find Valiant! He checked the hotel, the bar, and the beach, but the Velocitronian was nowhere in sight. A million people were in the city today, none looked like Valiant his companion...former companion.

He had been a fool.

----------------------------------

Valiant drank at the bar still preoccupied with the same words reeling in his mind. He ordered another Tankland Special, a high-grade Energon hard mix, and sat in his wallowing.

“Follow me, Valiant, I can help you.”

The mech quickly turned around but no one was behind him, not even a human when he peered down.

“You don’t have to worry anymore. I will take all those pitiful memories away and punish him for his inconsideration. All you have to do is meet me in the jungle,” a ghostly voice said.

The mech peered every direction possible, peeved but admittedly scared.

The bartender paused from his cleaning and asked, “Buddy, you alright?”

Not the same voice, definitely not the same. He got up and placed several credits on the counter simply saying “thank you” before walking off. He did as he was told and went to the jungle on the outskirts of the city. The animals the resided on the island talked a mouthful to each other. He preferred them to the people the longer he listened to their cries.

“Alright, I’m here,” he muttered.

“Good,” a voice next to him said as clear as day as his optics widened.

-----------------------------

Jordie called their names until his voice was almost gone. He clutched his head as the same whispers as the staff gave off yelled at him as if they surrounded him.

“You won’t find him here,” Kronos’ faint voice said over the rest. “Try the jungle. But why do you care now about some robot?”

“Valiant! Valiant?!”

The city heard his cries, but no one responded back by that name. He did as he was told and ran into the jungle on the outskirts of the city. The animals that carried the noise of such an unruly place did little to calm his fears until he tripped over something metal in a ditch. Jordie gagged and fled backwards on his hands despite being cut on some of the loose twigs scattered about. Orange, dirty and unmoving, was all he could see.

“No! Nonononono! Valiant!” He coddled part of the mech’s arm, almost biting his tongue in disarray to keep himself from crying. He whimpered, “I-I didn’t mean it! Please! I didn’t...!”

“Don’t worry, you don’t need them. You have all the money now, theirs too. Isn’t that satisfactory enough for you?”

Bags of cash were dropped beside him out of the thin air including the staff. One was his but the others...

“Fuck you!” Jordie screamed in anguish.

“You did, remember? You are a very handsome man but as tempting as that was-quit crying,” Kronos said bluntly. “As tempting as that was, someone had to pay.”

Jordie barely noticed the holoform standing over him now in a black suit decorated with gold-trim white outlines and jewels embedded as buttons. He had a regal choker collar and slicked back hair. He looked like a mobster but boasted wealth. The various gold rings and other jewelry did little to dissuade the appearance as anything but. The tattoos were much more prominent.

“You got what you wanted.”

“W-Why? Why-why kill them?! I thought you were going to kill me! You were supposed to kill me!!!!” Jordie cried, refusing to let go of his companion’s servo.

Then he heard Kronos whisper, “Who said I was going to kill you?”

You steal something of mine, I take something of yours.

Jordie gaped at the truth, the one he overlooked so heavily.

King Kronos merely fake-pouted, “Oh, now come on, do you really think I would end your life that easily? What’s the lesson to be made if I did that? If you die, you wouldn’t really be losing something you won’t miss afterwards. Can’t miss what you don’t have.”

“Those emotions, the anger, the...everything I said, that wasn’t real, was it?”

King Kronos didn’t answer, instead taking the staff in his tattooed hand but the tattoos seemed to overlay the hand more than usual with the inked claws now his real ones, metal oddly and blended together like a mutation. “Do you know what this staff does?”

Without looking him in the eye, Jordie shook his head blubbering.

“The Timekeeper’s Staff does more than just sit on a podium and look pretty. It can reverse time, forward it, the usual...but it also can read the user’s mind and alter the length of one’s time if disturbed by unwanted parties, a little trick of my own.” That caught Jordie off entirely and he stared at the malicious being as the latter continued. “I knew you had it the moment you touched it. I gave you a time frame to put it back where I relieved it, but you didn’t heed my warning. It knows you loved them deep down, so it shortened the lifespans of each. Their time ran out as did your mother’s. The day you took it, it took her life in return as a sacrifice for your sin. The watch is bound to your immortal soul.”

“Please, take my life for theirs! Please! I’ll do anything!”

King Kronos shook his head, “This is real life, not a movie. Nothing I can do, nor will I do it even if I have the power. Your greed is punished but now, I can’t let you stay here on Earth. More unfavorable people could use the staff’s power to take the lives of others to live forever. For your sin, a life-long servitude. Either you come with me, or I destroy more than just your spirit, and you will live until you are nothing but a broken toy.”

Jordie’s eye twitched as he heard that, then realized he still held the watch and in a blind rage, he threw it on the ground. Grabbing the staff, he did his best to wail on the prominent ticking driving him insane. His heart ached...but he wasn’t dying. He paused after a while to see Kronos merely looking between him and the watch amused before gesturing with his hand. The pocket watch flew back into his grasp, and he pawed it grinning.

“Can’t stop time. It always moves with or without you. And your time...is up.”

Jordie also noticed the staff wasn’t even scuffed as it helplessly left his hand in his disgruntlement, dropping onto the jungle floor with a thud. At the same time, King Kronos shut the pocket watch shut as his eyes changed to that of an animal’s.

---------------------------

“Please,” the woman pleaded, “I’ll do anything!”

Jordie stared her down, the Timekeeper’s Staff gripped tightly in his hands. “Your punishment for your greed will be servitude.”

He held up her bracelet with its heart charm now glowing. “And this will be your soul until your time is deemed done.”

Tossing it to her, he watched unmoving as she attempted to crush it only for her heart to pound in agony. He remained expressionless as she came to grips with her predicament and finally...she gave up. A broken human being; another slave to greed and another servant to Kronos’ kingdom. The walk back to his so-called throne was vile as she was escorted away once they teleported back to Kanjis.

The burden of sin came with such an unexpected price. Time seemed to despise him. He couldn’t stop thinking about what he had lost, what time took from him. It happened so fast. As the days rolled by, as the planet still spun, he was bound to serve his new master forever the same as the others condemned for their mistakes in their arrogance.

Kanjis was a far cry from Earth. Many techno-organics with beast forms roamed and conversed, all species that would never survive nor be caught dead with each other as their organic Earth counterparts. But he forgot who he was talking about. Giant, overbearing robots and he sat on a pillow in what felt like silk and satin, his “throne” with the Timekeeper’s Staff on his lap daily like a pet. His mother’s watch now hung like a necklace; it’s ticking faint but heartfelt.

He was assigned a duty in punishment, to man the staff’s power and watch over it as it was lent out again. It was odd seeing young stallions similar to him stealing it over and over like a never-ending cycle of hell. He was told to fetch them almost akin to a grim reaper. He got to travel, have some fun waiting, and he finally understood what Kronos meant. It was like a scavenger hunt for greedy victims.

Jordie learned that he was hardly the first person to steal the staff. It had to have a guardian. Others were bound to servitude among Kronos’ palace on Kanjis, more than just humans. He befriended a few of them including a large Rozarian rhino-reptile-like being, Taveron, who became his go-to buddy in the alien world. His crime? He stole the staff in a ceremony and planned to melt it down for a powerful weapon, lost his mate and child in the process. But why the king chose Jordie out of all the contenders to be the keeper of his relic was a mystery until some moments in his off time as a deified servant was he reminded of his place and purpose.

Jordie felt the rumbles of the monstrous dragon who ruled the planet. Over a thousand times his size, bringing most all Transformers to shame, Prometheus Kronos, his complete name as the human found out in their privacy, loomed with his shadow covering nearly half the visible space in the large room as far as Jordie could see. Then it vanished with a ghostly laugh and Jordie barely flinched when tattooed hands mimicking a human’s overlayed his own.

“It is good to see my relic being protected at last. It’s never been safer,” a fanged grin said. “Good work, my dear.”

Jordie knew he should have been horrified and bitter but after two years away from Earth with all the luxury he was given, even for a prisoner of an alien king, he couldn’t complain as Kronos’ holoform grazed his lips with his own. The grey eyes fluxed between a normal human’s and cat-like optics dilating with a purr. Kira...Queen Kiara did nothing but watch with interest on her lounge chair, white and blue-striped tail calmly swissing against the pristine metal flooring.

He could argue time had a funny way of making things finer. From the moment he stole the staff to the current dilemma, the minutes were counted with a mixture of emotions. Jordie soon forgot his curse as he realized slowly his fortunes and greed still got him what he wanted in the end, maybe not what he needed but his overall desires unfortunately won some baffling prizes. He missed Larry and Valiant but one day, he would see them again. But when would he be set free? Until the answer unfolded, Kronos reigned supreme, and Jordie had all the time in the universe to bathe in his crimes.

Chapter Text

“And I just, you know, feel like snapping, like how easy it would be to just crush them.”

Dr. Jacqueline Harvey wrote down the words in a quick noted fashion and nodded. “I see, and this mental state, does it come on only when you are around them or does something specific trigger it, do you know?”

The pink and green-striped tiger femme gulped, sitting back with her servos on her lower chest and drumming her digits. “I don’t but maybe...you know what? I think I might. Yeah...yeah, I-I think when I’m close to them and see their smiles, that’s what does it. I can’t stand seeing them smile, like a mockery...”

“You think they are laughing at you?”

“Maybe.”

“And what do you have against laughter, might I ask?”

“I always think the laughter is against me, like I’m just a freak. Do you have any idea what it’s like to have a color scheme like mine and feel misplaced? An abomination?” The femme whimpered, ears down with her green optics as pitiful as puppy dog eyes.

Jacqueline sat beside the railing to overlook her patient and pieced together slowly what she knew from the bot’s description of her hatred and the inner turmoil. She understood the judgement but couldn’t relate. Her patient didn’t need to know that.

“I think I see. This isn’t about those who belittle you; it’s about your own self-worth. Tell me, when you hear the laughter, what do you believe is happening?”

“Like I said, they are mocking me because I’m...me,” the femme said before pausing. Jacqueline gestured to continue as they realization hit her. “I...I always assume it’s me because what else is there they could be laughing at? But maybe they weren’t laughing at me at all. I just heard them so all I did was assume because I don’t think highly of myself...therefore I’m making myself think they are laughing at me. The only problem here is what I think of myself?”

Jacqueline placed the notebook on a side table and softly smiled. “The world is cruel, but the cruelest thing in the world is often yourself. The only person who can bring you down is you. If you think long and hard enough, what you imply will be what you know and what you know will be all that you are able to judge on without realizing the full reason as to why it’s happening. The greatest power is the mind’s perception.”

“So, because I’m not confident in myself, I believe I am being mocked. And I hear them talking and laughing and assume they are mocking me when it’s my own sense of judgement that is corrupted. How do I fix that?”

Jacqueline stood up and smiled, walking towards the platform that rests attached to the chair’s side. “I suggest seeing yourself in a different light. Instead of focusing on what you know about yourself, regardless of opinion, focus on finding out what you don’t know and expand on that. Find a positive trait and use that to inspire yourself to look back on your previous opinions. Do something like have a mirror in front of you and every day tell yourself with all your favorite things surrounding you ‘I am perfect just the way I am.’ Show yourself what you love and see why you love it again. I guarantee it has to do with you as a person, and no one will ever be able to take what you love away from you if you don’t let them. At the end of the day, the only person who will be looking back in that mirror is you who loves you for who you are.”

The femme perked up considerably. “Really?”

“Try it and if you still have doubts, I promise you I will help you see how amazing you are no matter how long it takes. You’re perfect just the way you are, colors and all.”

The tiger femme nearly jumped up out of her seat to the startlement of the human. “Thank you, Doc!”

“We’ll set another appointment when you’re ready to give me an update, okay?”

“Okay, yeah! I am a beautiful person. I am perfect just the way I am. I am a beautiful person...”

As soon as the femme left muttering to herself, Jacqueline smiled and ripped her notes out of the pad to file in a drawer she had marked for her patients. Placing it under the recent visit, she clapped her hands once together and nodded as a job well done. She loved seeing her patients thrive. One thing she always encouraged was for patients to find the answers themselves first rather than her telling what she deduced. It was found this was the best way to get her patients to analyze and know what truly ailed them and possibly how to fix it. If they were told off the bat what she found was ailing them, the effort of believing they could beat their psychological problems would be far less effective.

With that patient the last of the day, she packed her personal papers and headed out, locking her office. She planned to make a quick rendezvous to the Autobot Base outside of the city where her brother was stationed before she went home to review the day’s progress with certain individuals while noting the recession of a few. Her brother was...one of the recessives.

Unlike the other patients, she had direct contact with him and could check up on him off the clock. As a techie of the command center that kept track of all the leaders’ messages and plans of the cybernetic worlds and relayed everything to the Autobot leader himself, he was under a lot of stress, and she knew all the signs pointed to Persistent Depressive Disorder. It was relentless even with treatment. She feared it was getting worse and with access to many weapons, all it took was the wrong thought. Jacqueline refused to let that happen.

She drove to the base and showed her identification; she was the first psychiatrist on call for PTSD episodes of troops as well as destructive behaviors. Those that had fought with the Autobots against the Decepticons often developed the worst psyche breakdowns. She parked in her designated area and made her way with an escort to the command center in the middle of the base. In the investigation room, which she knew he went there for privacy, not in actual trouble, she waved the escort off and placed her bag down on the seat. A low-cut brunette in army attire tossed his hat uselessly on the ground and dragged his hands across his face miserably.

“Hey, Jacob, how’s everything going?”

Her brother huffed and sat down after looking at his reflection in the one-way glass. “Can’t stop thinking about everything. My mood is constantly moving back and forth, and I can’t keep my concentration anymore. It’s painful.”

“Physical or mental?”

“Both. I think it’s becoming more than depressive disorder. I can see other people’s injuries and my mind wants to torture me. I saw a woman with an arm cut up by a rogue Dinobot attack and within minutes, my arm was in excruciating agony like my mind’s reflecting her injuries onto me. That’s not depression I don’t think.”

Jacqueline dug through her bag as she said, “No, it’s not but all your other symptoms up until now have been which may or may not have something to do with it. Phantom pain is commonly an issue with amputees, but there is a rare form of it where if you have an injury like on your left arm, your brain will mimic it on your right arm for no reason. It usually passes once the real affected area is healed or through physical therapy.”

He approached her distressed. “But these aren’t my injuries! It’s someone else’s! What is wrong with me, Jay-Jay?!”

She paused and looked Jacob in the eye, slowly shaking her head, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s a form of PTSD. You’re triggered by seeing blood or general wounds and it’s causing your mind to go haywire. Best case, it’s just the environment and maybe if you spend some time away from the base, it could give your brain a soft reset. The depression won’t go away on its own but maybe this phantom imprint pain will.”

“And the worst case?”

“It...might be a complication of something else, something I haven’t diagnosed. Sometimes the body will tell you things through messages. For instance, I had a friend who kept having abnormal menstrual cramps even after she went through her cycle for the month. They were getting worse, and she felt drained, like blood was not circulating right. She went to the doctor, and they found she had a tumor starting to form and had been through the past five months when the abnormalities started. The phantom pain might be your body trying to tell you it’s hurting somewhere, and your mind knows you were focused on the soldiers’ wounds. Dreams are also where the body will try and use your mind to tell what’s wrong through specific images or events you play as you sleep. The brain is a very powerful component, and it will do everything in its power to make sure everything it operates is in good condition.”

Jacob sat down and scoffed, “Just like a machine.”

“Exactly,” she replied. “And you can affect the brain just as much as it can affect you. If you believe you will die, your brain can interpret that as quitting and one day, it’ll just shut down on its own because you believed it as true, and it had no reason to dispute you. Go to the doctor and make sure to get checked out, a physical and everything. If they find nothing, we’ll see about re-examining you for any other disorders. If they do find something, let me know. And make sure-”

“And make sure I take my medicine...you sound just like Dad when we were kids and we both got colds.”

“Someone has to keep Dad’s advice,” she said, pulling out a bottle. “And here’s the new pills. These are a bit of a higher dose, but they shouldn’t interfere with your work. If they do, call me.”

Jacob took it before frowning, “You didn’t just come all the way here just to bring me my medication, did you? Don’t want to stick around?”

Jacqueline laughed, “I’ve seen the base plenty of times before.”

“But not when Optimus and his team are here.”

The name piqued her interest. Optimus Prime was the war hero, the epitome of celestial guidance and an idol to those with hope in their hearts. To refuse seeing Optimus Prime of all mechs when the opportunity came was a missed opportunity of meeting an inspiration. It was because of Optimus humanity didn’t fall into despair and for that, she, like many, were extremely grateful.

“I suppose I could stick around. He’s here now?”

Jacob nodded as he stood back up and gestured towards the door. “Absolutely. He’s here in the command center too. I’ll show you.”

They walked to the greeting bay of the command center where the high-profile authorities and superiors met with any of the Transformers who had information, leaders, and other ranked officials. She paused humbly when she laid eyes upon the largest mech in the room. The signature red and blue colors were hard to miss even in a crowded space.

She grew excited. What if she could find out a few things about him, an exclusive insight into why he did what he did? What drove the Autobot leader to save humanity? What was the war like on Cybertron from more than just mere opinions? The possibilities were endless and very few could say they had delved into the mind of Optimus Prime. She needed to know; she must know!

Jacob and Jacqueline climbed up the catwalks as Optimus talked to Colonel Lennox and a few of his subordinates. Upon hearing them approach, the Prime turned his head towards her, his calm gaze making Jacqueline perk up in hope. If he was as nice as they said, he would agree under certain circumstances.

“And who might this be?” Optimus asked politely.

Jacob gestured to his sister. “Optimus Prime, sir, this is my sister, Jacqueline Harvey. She’s a psychiatrist and works with this base on occasion to treat those afflicted with mental health problems and diagnose mental disorders.”

The Prime gave a small smile that made the woman weak at the knees. “A pleasure to meet you, Dr. Harvey.”

“Please, call me Jacqueline, Mr. Prime.”

She earned a raised brow and a stronger smile as he replied. “Optimus will suffice just fine. The care of these soldiers is admirable. Mental health is often overlooked, but I appreciate knowing someone takes care of them in that regard.”

“Of course, mental health is just as important as physical health. Disorders, illnesses and lack of care of the mind are sometimes far stronger than any physical illness and my job is to understand and help those afflicted. No mind goes unexplored and undiagnosed under my watch.”

There was a flicker of caution among Optimus’ features, the small little neutral edge of his mouth, unseen by the rest but she had enough experience with humans and cybernetic beings alike to recognize when someone was hiding something. It seemed Optimus didn’t like the idea of his mind being prodded at. A trauma perhaps? Or a secret? A warfront abnormality? A personal one? So many questions and Jacqueline knew better than to linger...but who else would ever be able to see beyond the good guy persona? Something had to be behind that smile, and she desperately wanted to know what it was. And Optimus seemed to know what she wanted.

“An honorable profession.” The Prime merely nodded afterwards, a sign of his refusal to yield to her curiosity. He was about to turn back to his conversation with Lennox when she refused to be ignored.

“And one who specializes in Cybertronians as well,” she simply replied, not a twitch or a hint of any ulterior motive.

Lennox and Jacob couldn’t know the expression at heart, but she did. Optimus was warning her as his brows were neutral, and his smile had merged to a basic horizontal line. Of course, one downside to the Autobot was his nice personality...her edge to get him to consider her unspoken request. He wouldn’t turn her down; he was too polite.

“I will certainly keep that in mind for any future consulting any one of my Autobots may need. Thank you, Jacqueline.” Don’t push your luck.

She merely retorted, “My door’s always open.”

She walked away without another word. The invitation was sent. Now, it was the waiting game. She knew Optimus would test her. He wouldn’t put just anyone in her care without understanding if she was truthful or not, a danger or helpful. He would come to her, and that’s when she planned on picking his processor to see if she could glance into unseen territory, into the mind of Optimus Prime.

---------------------

It took only three days of waiting, anxiety up the roof wondering what she would find. Her sessions with other patients grew compromised, unable to fully focus and listen. She couldn’t listen. The war in her head wanting to know but unable to see was driving her mad. She needed to know Optimus Prime, the breakthrough of all time! There had to be something-

“You need to stop,” Jacob warned.

Her obsession didn’t go unnoticed. Ever since that meeting, her brother was worried, the first time he had done so in over a year other than worrying about himself. He said that as she was writing down the results he told her a second prior about the new medicine, stable yet gave him insomnia. Jacqueline halted the notes for the results for the new medicine Jacob took as he told her. That caught her off guard.

“Excuse me?”

“You need to stop. Don’t think I haven’t noticed it.”

“Noticed what?”

“Optimus Prime,” he emphasized with distaste. “You can’t be dwelling on whatever demons he may or may not have, don’t think I didn’t notice your prompting before. I’m warning you-”

“I’m an adult, not a little girl who needs to have her hand slapped from reaching into a candy jar. Your opinion is duly noted but as a psychiatrist, it is my job to help people, Optimus Prime included,” she snapped back.

Jacob shook his head, “Unless he doesn’t want to be helped if there even is anything wrong with him. Take it from a patron of psyche breakdowns; you start making people go places they don’t want to, you’re going to start something you might not be able to stop. You’ve worked with people with PTSD, Jay-Jay, how they describe the moments and the causes...but have you actually seen them when they break? I have. Some of them are fine for the longest time. But when something invades their comfort zone, it’s like the war never ended, and you don’t want to be on the wrong side of that when the walls come crashing down.”

Jacqueline huffed, “Optimus doesn’t have PTSD, but he has something he won’t talk about.”

Right as she was leaving to submit her notes to the on-base pharmacy, Jacob grabbed her arm roughly, almost leaving a bruise in his wake. She glared down at him, but he didn’t budge.

“You tread in the trenches, don’t expect not to get shot at when you try to get yourself out...even from friendly fire.”

She ripped away from his grasp and didn’t say another word, walking out of their private room to the desk of the medical officer in charge with the doctors behind the counter and dropping off her notes. When her phone made a funky noise for a message coming in, she quickly checked it before halting mid-step.

I need a moment to talk to you in your office. – Optimus Prime

Jacqueline grinned like a hyena. Optimus Prime was hers at last. It was time to put on a show and make him talk about his feelings, a psychiatrist’s wet dream.

She almost caused two crashes driving to a parking garage not far from her building and ran to it excitedly, past the large entrance doors for Transformers. She slowed down when she realized how it made her look. Readjusting her black pinstripe suit jacket and making sure her matching pencil skirt was smooth and presentable, she took the elevator to the third floor to gain access to her higher section of office to be on a similar level of the towering Autobot leader. Her office had five levels of platforms for the convenience of such patients up to a hundred feet tall. Anyone larger had to go to a specialized section outside in the complex’s private gardens. She only had three patients that exceeded such limitations.

She entered her office, walking past the desk she had for that level to see Optimus Prime himself sitting casually in the big chair looking at the giant fish tank that spanned from the fourth level downward. Fish sometimes helped people relax, and Optimus was entranced by it as he watched the fish go about their lives unbothered.

“Optimus, a pleasure to see you here. What can I do for you?”

The Prime was still entranced by the tiger oscars that roamed as well as the other cichlids and arowanas that made their way around a large, hollow Sequoia tree stump with arched roots they could hide among. He tore his gaze away finally to give a decent nod of acknowledgement.

“Dr. Jacqueline, you said your specialty was Cybertronian mental health, but I am uncertain that the aftermath of mental scars of the conflict we had faced for hundreds of thousands of years could be tamed by human practices. No offense, of course.”

He was testing her, she sensed. She could play those games too. “None taken. I just noticed my talents worked well on the war-stricken individuals like the humans who fought beside you and those who faced conflicts overseas like my brother. I guess I just have a small advantage in a way.”

“While I commend you for going above and beyond, I’m afraid I need to ask you to be careful. In war, especially planet-wide, various things can occur that are best left unspoken.”

“Oh,” she said, playing dumb, “well, like what? What would be a decent example I should avoid just in case I come across it?”

If she played her cards right, he would sing to her at least something she could piece together about what ailed him so. She sat at her desk and brought out a pencil and paper from her case bag discreetly while Optimus turned away for a brief second to look at the fish tank again.

Optimus shook his head, “I am no stranger to war, Jacqueline, even long before the one that consumed our planet into darkness. It changes many, most of whom could have never prepared themselves for the horrors that plagued their once peaceful lives. But out of all the wars and conflicts we have ever faced, Megatron’s persistence was most deadly.”

“So, Megatron, he was the root of this problem?”

“He was a problem. His pride and greed overran his sense of unity and fairness, plunging our way of life into a spiral we couldn’t stop no matter what we tried. The wounds he left can never be healed, never mended. So many people still fear him today. If you were to council them, you may find more than just the marks of war, which is why I urge you with utmost caution not to divulge farther than you can handle. The price of knowledge is not always worth the pain.”

Jacqueline let half those words slide through one ear and out the other. She had done this for years. Not even the horror stories of war had ever fazed her. So, she found herself asking without remorse, “That sounds like projecting. How did the war make you feel?”

“Doctor...you shouldn’t-”

“But when’s the last time you talked to someone, Optimus? Someone willing to listen? You seem to have a lot on your chest. I can listen when no one else will. I’ll do this free of charge, no hurry, no complications, and nothing will leave this room.”

His expression grew unsettling though it was hardly noticeable. She didn’t know what it meant though, that was the biggest concern. His optics narrowed, not like he was testing her anymore, but as if he was scanning for the truth or understanding her position in the actual statement. When his optics flickered a little too quickly of a gaze around the room for any unwanted ears, she knew there was something he wanted to get off his chest, but she was unsure if it was meant to ever be known.

He frowned, “I ask that you reconsider-”

“No,” she demanded without realizing the unwise tone slipped out, “you want proof I can handle those like you? Here’s your chance to show me.”

His optics briefly caught sight of the notepad, but his expression was now unreadable even more so. It fascinated Jacqueline more and only piqued her curiosity about what he hid that he didn’t want to leave this room. He finally relented with plenty of hesitation, a colder stance than before but he indulged her.

“The war between the Autobots and Decepticons wasn’t just a planetary-wide battle spanning thousands of years; it was the conflict of admittance between two people who couldn’t see what they had done. Megatron is well known as the instigator, and he was. But there is a second side to this story, one that had never come to light because everyone was so focused on Megatron becoming twisted and rageful.

“When I was Orion Pax, I wanted to know all about the gladiator known at the time as Megatronus, named after the fallen Prime himself. Alpha Trion once told me his biggest regret was condemning Megatronus Prime to a life filled with hatred, cursed to roam a dark world and turned into a monster. I remember what he thought about Megatron, a repeat of history would be upon Cybertron. I thought it meant Megatron would cause an uprising in Megatronus Prime’s name...I was wrong.”

Jacqueline scribbled as many notes as she could following the story. “So, you misinterpreted your mentor’s words and went to confront Megatron? What were you feeling then?”

“I admit I was more curious than anything; I wanted to know the mind behind the mutiny afoot, so I did my research on what Megatron had planned. I saw a different side of things. Megatron wanted to take out the caste system and bring a new order to Cybertron where everyone would be equal, no class divisions and no assigned roles in society. His speeches were noble, his points fair and truthful, but I wanted to see firsthand what he was like to determine if he spoke falsehoods or truths. I met with him upon request, and that’s when everything took a turn for the worst...”

“He used you?”

Optimus huffed, “No, Doctor, I used him.”

That...wasn’t what she heard and never once did she ever think the proud and noble Optimus Prime would be responsible for the war. Everyone saw Megatron as the enemy but if there were two instigators, that would shatter many idolizations and ideologies centered around the Autobot leader, the bot everyone looked up to.

“I should have left him alone, let Megatron do what he needed to, and the bloodshed wouldn’t have occurred. They said the most valuable trait in an archivist is the ability to ask questions. I was a fool. Among my prodding of Megatron’s true intentions, I awoke something within him, something dark as I began to point out more ways to take on such a system and take control. I didn’t realize what I was doing was opening Megatron’s mind to consider alternative possibilities to ensure his dream would become a reality even if it meant taking it by force.

“Megatron grew determined and crueler in his methods while I encouraged it until I saw him try to take on those who opposed him. His anger was too much to bear. I thought I could help him by being the negotiator, but I only sparked his hatred when people began turning to me instead. We were friends once. We began drifting apart after that with Megatron’s trust in me broken and his lust for power growing. When I talked to the Council after his failed attempt to gain the Matrix of Leadership, he believed I stole it from him, and now I see that, in a way, he was right.”

Jacqueline paused as she pieced together what he was implying. “Wait...wait, so you mean to tell me that the war was your fault? Megatron was right? You basically started this whole conflict which led to the death of your world which brought it to ours because Megatron wanted all the Energon deposits here stored away by your Autobots, because you wanted to correct what you did. You’re the reason our world went through hell? Why so many humans died fighting beside someone they trusted not realizing they had helped the one bot responsible for all their troubles? You want to tell me this whole situation could have been avoided had you not gotten involved with Megatron out of your naïve curiosity?”

Optimus didn’t answer, his mouth a grim line upon his already stoic features. Jacqueline started to tense, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. Something in his demeanor changed, subtle but there; it was unknown and, dare she believe, dangerous. The room was not right; even the fish began to retreat from the glass sensing something wrong.

This was forbidden knowledge, but she was beginning to regret knowing. Everything she had known about Optimus Prime was a lie. He wasn’t this war hero that did everything in his power to save Cybertron from Megatron; he was the whole reason Megatron did what he did and went mad along the way. Even though he tried to correct his mistake, the damage had already been done. So many Cybertronian and human lives were gone because of him.

Suddenly, he said, “You asked me how I felt earlier...I shall tell you. I was glad to help Megatron achieve what he wanted. I grew horrified of what I had done only after the consequences were laid bare. And when I look back on it now despite some regrets, I don’t think it could have been done any other way.”

She froze, “You mean, if you had the choice going back, you’d let all this happen again?”

With a straight face and a hint of malice, Optimus replied, “Megatron has become our tolerated ally and both our world and yours thrive in unity now, working alongside each other to survive. If I didn’t confront Megatron, would everything have worked out as we hoped? If I didn’t stir Megatron’s true nature, there could have been an even worse fate for both our worlds as Unicron is the core of this planet therefore Earth was tied to Cybertron regardless. We would have come here anyways.”

“You didn’t answer the question-”

“Yes, I would have.”

Silence was between them for the longest time. Jacqueline hated the answer and didn’t know how to feel about that. It made her uneasy to think the person responsible for a decent number of human lives being eviscerated was the trusting and wise Optimus Prime. If anybody knew...

“You seem ill, Dr. Jacqueline. Is everything alright?”

She didn’t want to answer. “Yes, just processing this is all.”

“The war was alright,” he stalled. Why, Jacqueline couldn’t answer. “Watching my brethren die hurt but their sacrifices weren’t in vain. If they could see the worlds we created, I think they would have agreed on the necessities to bring us here. Humanity is our greatest ally; it has a lifeline of security with us.”

And you won’t mess that up.

The shift of tone, extremely unnerving, as he glanced at her made Jacqueline want to leave, “Fate rarely calls upon us at a moment of our choosing. I did what I had to do, and I don’t feel as bad as I should seeing what we managed to accomplish through the war. Cybertron and Earth are satisfied and safe...and I intend to keep it that way.”

Jacqueline realized she was staring and quickly gathered her papers, coughing, “W-Well, Optimus, this was a very intriguing session. If you, um, ever want to talk more about it, my doors are always open.”

Optimus didn’t move as he said, “I’m afraid this will be the last time we meet with such regards. While your job is extraordinary, I unfortunately must reconsider your employment of working with my fellow Autobots. I do hope you understand.”

“No Autobots, got it,” she laughed uneasy, gathering her notes.

She saw in the corner of her eye Optimus was heavily staring at them and then her. A dreadful feeling plagued her. She barely spoke to him on the way out as she placed her notes into her case bag.

“It was nice having you, but I must go,” she said trying to keep her cool. “Have a good evening, Optimus.”

“Likewise,” the Prime said abnormally low, still glaring at her.

As she left her building, she quickly dialed Jacob. It rang three times, her paranoia growing as she passed Transformers and humans on the sidewalks and driving by like a typical day in paradise. It was a paradise they didn’t know was forged from unethical bloodshed.

“Come on, come on, Jacob!”

“Hey, Jay-Jay,” Jacob finally answered, “look, this isn’t a good time-”

“Jacob, I need to talk to you privately.”

His tone grew saddened, “Well, that can’t happen.”

She paused next to a street corner just behind a crowd of people waiting for the light to cross towards the parking garage her vehicle was stationed at. “Wh-What do you mean?”

“Less than two minutes before you called, I just got the notification that you’ve been banned from the premises per Optimus’ orders. Dr. June Darby, Optimus’ partner, will be taking over psyche evaluations until a suitable replacement for you has been found. When we are told these things, one of the downsides to the military is you have to consider every action for the cause even if you don’t believe in it. I warned you, Jay-Jay, and now I can’t help you.”

“Wait, Jacob, do you know about Optimus’-”

An abrupt gunshot on Jacob’s end and the collapse of a body and the phone with faint footsteps nearby had Jacqueline horrified, whispering out her brother’s name. He didn’t respond but someone grabbed his phone and shattered it as a brief bang on the floor was the last thing she heard before it was cut off within the same second. She stood there shivering, unable to process what had just happened or what emotions she was supposed to convey. Her brother was dead from a secret she possessed that seldom people knew, all except one were supposed to know.

She sprinted into the garage, uncaring how badly the motion hurt her feet in heels. She had run previously with eagerness. She was now running in fear for her life. Her car turned on from her trigger on her keychain once she got close enough and she jumped in throwing her case bag into her passenger side. Quicker than Blurr in a street race, she put the sucker in reverse and nearly swung out to get as far away as possible.

When she whipped around a corner in the garage, she nearly screamed as a red semi-truck with a familiar insignia on its grill roared towards her. The ceiling was just barely big enough for him. Jacqueline slid to a halt and frantically sped backwards right before Optimus could ram her. He struck the cement curve of the wall, scratching his long nose left side as he tried to turn in a fury most shocking. The poor concrete was left devastated while the Cybertronian armor of the vehicle had less destructive dents and marks. What stunned her the most was how fast he could go in such a short amount of time.

Their chase ran up the second story of the garage and made its way up to the third. She tried to multitask and call for help only to find her phone’s signal jammed. If she didn’t find a way to outflank him and go back down, she would essentially be hit or fall off the garage roof level. She diverted off the path to back over some empty parking spaces but got stuck over the bumper blocks that damaged her axles. Panicked and terrified, Optimus swung around from a distance to aim for her. She grabbed her case bag and unlatched her seatbelt right as he floored it at her.

At the very last second, Jacqueline managed to roll out as her car’s front was smashed, crippling it into an accordion with a nasty sound effect. Parts went flying as she crawled out of view of Optimus’ vehicle form that continued forward until crushing the remainer of it against the wall, uncaring if a few loose pieces went over the edge. His tires were hardly fazed by the bumpers, breaking several of them in the process.

Jaqueline remained still hidden behind a low riding Ford before glancing out shaken to see if Optimus thought she was dead. Suddenly, his mirrors moved rapidly to scan for any visual of her. He knew she wasn’t in the vehicle. His vehicle form had stalled with all its noise going silent once he had destroyed her car, and she didn’t realize it until the boom of his engine roared to life again and startled her. When he pulled away from the flattened car, the front of his grill with flakes of her car paint and dents from the impact were present, headlights blaring. Slowly, the truck rolled forward with smoke pouring from stakes adorning his cab.

She didn’t know how far she crawled, tearing off her heels so she could tread easier and without noise. She had to get the notes to a media outlet or something. The world was relying on the wrong mech who was now out to kill her. She had to. Once, she believed in patient-doctor confidentiality, but this was too much. This was the equivalent of a war crime and would probably be treated as such.

Optimus circled around, engine loudly echoing in the garage. Jacqueline waited for him to be farther down so she could run to the stairwell. She knew when she did, he would see her regardless of what direction he faced. If he was on the opposite side, that bought her time to escape. The sound of him intentionally hitting a few parked cars to frighten her almost worked had she not already planned on fleeing anyway.

Jacqueline ran. Tires halted as she zoomed down the staircase. The echoing squeals of tires and cars being hit made her wince as she made it to the base floor. Running out into the open, she was nearly struck by a passing cab who yelled at her. They had no passenger, so she quickly jumped in.

“I’ll pay you whatever you want! Just get me the hell out of here!”

The cabbie didn’t need to be told twice. She breathed a sigh of relief as she was taken several blocks away, holding her face in her hands.

“Is there any particular place you need to go? Or should I go to the police?”

No, if Optimus had a hit out for her brother as soon as she dipped out of her office, he was smart enough to have the police tipped off. She would be marked a criminal with classified information. The nearest news outlet was downtown in Lyland District, a twenty-minute commute via any vehicle other than train. She had no choice.

“Lyland District, Charlotte Street Plaza.”

“On my way.”

Jacqueline sat there for ten minutes tormented by the feeling she was being watched. She kept an eye out for any trucks, distant between roads or behind them. She was too frightened to even think about stepping out of the cab. The road to Lyland was not kind as driving through the Tenements was the direct route to it. They drove through it in no time but at least Jacqueline could give herself a moment to regain her thoughts.

HOOOOONK

“Holy shi-!”

She barely had time to register what was happening when all she saw was headlights and a massive grill. The car was struck hard. She cried out as it rolled numerous times, windows shattering and glass flying everywhere including across her face and suit. By the time it slowed to a halt, rolling onto its roof, Jacqueline merely whimpered as blood ran down her forehead through her hair to the ceiling below. She struggled with her seatbelt as the driver’s side was bent inward and the cabbie’s body hung like a ragdoll. Hitting her head against the roof, she made sure her case bag was strapped to her as she crawled out sobbing as glass dug into every patch of skin in her hands, knees, and feet. Standing up was hell.

Headlights glared at her as she whimpered, but Optimus didn’t budge except for a brief tire screech and moving an inch or two. He was taunting her. He wanted her to run. It became obvious that even if she gave the news outlet or anybody her notes, no one would believe the truth. He knew this, but he couldn’t let her continue living with the knowledge in case she found evidence otherwise.

Jacqueline screamed as she bolted despite the pain as the dusk made the streets empty. She didn’t hear him transform, but she retreated just out of reach when a black and blue servo hit down where she was at a second prior from an alleyway gap, digits scraping against the asphalt with ill intentions.

“Jacqueline,” he hissed, “don’t run! I don’t want to hurt you!”

His innocent Optimus bravado was not fooling her. Pieces of buildings ruptured above her as he clambered over them in pursuit. She ran across the street to an open field of an old high school long shut down as he jumped down and transformed.

Her phone rang. She hid as his vehicle mode drove around the block and reluctantly activated it. She brushed her hair tainted with sweat and blood as she listened, her breath stalling.

“Don’t make this any harder than it has to be, Doctor. There’s nothing wrong with a couple of sacrifices if it’s for the greater good. You strive to make life better for people, then do it.”

“Humans don’t start conflicts that turn into massive wars for the greater good!”

“You already have. Earth’s definition of the greater good varies on country, religion, and morality, but every single one of you have done what you saw as right and so many people died because of it, still do. I’m just preserving my end, and I won’t let you hurt people to prove a point."

Optimus was deranged. He thought he was being the good guy. He was no better than Megatron-

Tires tearing up grass and dirt alerted her, and she barely dodged his attempt to run her over from the side, hitting the wall with a groan of his engine. Jacqueline looked back as she ran to the old gym to see him running after her. This time, he had no problems storming through the building, sliding unintentionally on the slick basketball court as he tried to swipe at her growling before pulling out his gun. She winced and tripped as blasts exploded behind her, one fireball nearly catching up to her but fizzled into smoke.

“Jacqueline!”

She broke through the old door to the outside and saw the Lyland District buildings not far. Using everything she got, she ran for it as her life depended on it. Optimus ripped through the walls of the school, briefly stumbling on all fours chasing her before transforming. She managed to go into the thin alleyways where he couldn’t venture.

Small storm clouds that would offer patches of rain were among the darkened skies of dusk fading to complete night. She went through a portion of damaged fencing, ignoring the barks of chained up dogs protecting their residency and made it into the far more glamorous streets of the Lyland District. The news building she sought was only a few blocks down. She began slowing and whimpering, unable to take the shards of glass that were nearly to the bone in her feet as the adrenaline was no longer present among her fear. To her disappointment and misery, the news outlet was closed for the night.

Rain began to pour as she pounded uselessly on the locked doors, at least aiming for sanctuary from Optimus’ wrath, but no aid came and the people around her thought she was having a breakdown. A few Minicons and Velocitronians laughed at her despite she was bloody. They thought she had done it to herself. No one batted an eye at her; no one cared.

Defeated after a minute of crying while everyone seemed to cross the street to avoid her, Jacqueline stumbled uselessly in her bare, bloody feet now caked with filth from the streets that she had not a clue what it consisted of. Into the alley, she tried to run but she was too sore now. No one cared when she went into the darkened street of a back road slum section just beyond a fence that separated the district from its lower-class counterpart.

Something big moved behind her and suddenly, headlights appeared again with a truck’s engine purring. She stared ahead of her in the same direction as the headlights faced, not wanting to look back. The mind games were done; her agony was fed upon as she looked like a disheveled mess. In a sudden rage, she threw her case bag to the side uncaring as it burst open and all her pages of notes sank in puddles and turned around to face Optimus will no shits left to give, tears leaving various colored stains down her face.

Jacqueline screamed as she tensed miserable, “Come on! I’m not afraid of you!”

She didn’t know what Optimus thought of her tantrum but when his lights dimmed, she expected him to talk to her, but all she continued to hear was his engine. No wise speeches, no apologies, no pleasantries...near silence. Even though he was right there, she felt alone in the dark with nothing but a streetlamp somewhere over the fence nearby to have any sort of reflection off his dark form.

“Fuck y-!”

Optimus surged forward and she didn’t finish that sentence, the front of his vehicle striking her and pushing her flat onto the ground as he drove over her in less than a second. She lay there unmoving until her breath caught with a loud gasp. The pain was numbing. She heard the beeping of Optimus pulling out of the alley and backing up to turn around.

With every ounce of her strength, she pulled herself to sit up. Her ribs felt like a broken xylophone as they shifted poorly against her organs. She gripped the loose dirt and grime on the asphalt of the alleyway. Slowly, she shifted to glance around hard of breathing with her ears ringing. She could see his outline vaguely, the trauma to her head threatening her vision.

Tires squealed once more. This time he gained speed as he went towards her. She couldn’t walk, couldn’t run from him. His secret was hers to take to her grave as she barely saw her pathetic reflection lying in the alley coming up fast in his silver bumper at the same level of her head as he hit sixty. She kind of missed seeing the headlights; the darkness was oh so cruel.

--------------------------

“Well-loved psychiatrist, Dr. Jacqueline Harvey, was found in the back alleys of the Tenement dead this morning from unknown wounds. Authorities say there was glass embedded in her hands and feet for unknown reasons, that she had been running with them for some time. Blunt force trauma to the head suggests either a large weapon or a vehicle struck her in the night. Accidental death has yet to be ruled out, but they believe it is a homicide by the unusual nature of the death.

“Residents in the area said they heard her yelling and screaming furiously, ‘running around the neighborhood like a lunatic’ as one person described. Surveillance around the area picked up nothing of interest except video footage of her running amok. Damage to the old school in the vicinity suggested an explosion of some kind, not ruling out the possibility the creation of drugs maybe having a play in this-”

“Do you know how hard it was to have all those security cameras scrubbed, Prime?” General Morshower said distastefully.

Optimus sighed, “I understand, General, but Dr. Jacqueline had stolen vital information about your operations and her brother was unfortunately in on the scheme. I tried to reason with her, but I had no choice.”

“And her brother, Major Jacob Harvey, you said he tried to pull a weapon on one of the confronting officers?”

“That was most unexpected. I had hoped the officers would have approached things differently, but it seems it didn’t work out in our favor. A tragic loss but one that must remind us to stay vigilant against any who pretend to be our allies.”

General Morshower had a small smile play on his lips as he narrowed his eyes. Optimus merely tilted his head a few inches before the former acknowledged, “Little sacrifices make our countries great and protect our worlds so they can grow stronger. Can’t dispute that, can we, Dr. Darby?”

Dr. June Darby walked out on the catwalk to be next to the General and his crew with the case bag that belonged to Jacqueline in her possession. She threw it in a locked bin to be destroyed by certain officials before ushering Optimus to bring himself closer to her. She smirked at her Cybertronian companion.

“No sacrifice, no victory.”

His secret was safe, and no one else had to get hurt. In his mind, that was good.

Chapter Text

Andre scowled as Minicons who oversaw delivery of food and other majority necessities maneuvered around him at a quicker pace than he was walking. They were always on the move and although they did their job well, it was somewhat annoying.

He checked in all his assigned inmates until he got to one particular door. Andre unlocked and slowly opened it to reveal a red Caminien youngling. They were looking out the window with a glasgow grin. They never left their room, never once tried to escape or eat or do anything yet they seemed to be the happiest patient.

“Will you come out today?” Andre asked.

The youngling shook their head, “No, not today. Could you imagine the look on the doctor’s faces if they saw me out and about, yeah? They always want me to come out, be who I was but that bot is long gone. So, why should I appeal to their desires to see me ‘healthy?’ There’s no point.”

Andre couldn’t help but agree and nodded, “True, but it would be nice to see one day.”

He knew not where they had come from or why, just that they were here. He once brought the case of a youngling being held in the facility to the board members, but they found no evidence of a Caminus-born youth admitted into the asylum. An oversight, no doubt.

Andre sighed, “Alright then, see you in a few hours.”

“You know I’ll be here. Bye, bye Andy!”

That was their nickname for him. He never argued because they were technically the equivalent of a child after all. Andre closed the door and marked on his check list room 13B’s resident being present though he skipped the check box that wanted to know whether the patient was being responsive. They were responsive, just didn’t want to go outside which was considered defiance.

He paused when he realized he had drawn extra lines on his clipboard below and above the proper entry, lost in his train of thought. A simple mistake. He put down “Kid” as the name; he never managed to learn it for every time he asked, they would dodge the question. As he finished his rounds, he gave the clipboard for the head doctor to look over. Everything was perfect until he heard Dr. Robinson speak.

“This entry for 13B, you put ‘Kid.’”

“Yes?”

“Andre, we talked about this. That isn’t a name. Either do your job or I’m going to fire you. You can’t be doing this stupid prank all the time. It was funny at first but now it’s annoying.”

Andre slowly nodded, “I understand.”

“I hope you do because you’re slipping. This isn’t the Andre that was hired two years ago who excelled at his job. Fix it.”

The orderly took back his chart and went to leave when Dr. Robinson said, “Look, Andre, your father was a great psychiatrist and I want you to succeed where he couldn’t because of his obsession in that so-called experiment of his. You’re better than he is and you know that. Why don’t you come back to us, son, when you want to get serious.”

He turned around quickly, “You’re firing me?”

“Paid leave, so to speak. Today is your last day for a while. Take a breather. You need to get out of this hospital. That’ll jog some memories and maybe your lost ambitions.”

Andre didn’t know what memories had to do with anything, but he knew his father enough to know there wasn’t much he wanted to remember about him. He was a great psychiatrist, but his days were numbered when he decided that being a family wasn’t worth it.

He walked back to 13B...only to find the walls were scribbled on, every inch. Andre stared at the hieroglyphs and words mingled together.

“Do you like it?” The youngling asked.

“Wha-what did you do?! This again? You know how hard it is to clean this up!”

The youngling frowned, a rare sight. “But you always liked it. You would come play with me all the time and write down our favorite verses from those laughable college books. What a waste of money.”

Andre paused, “What...did you say?”

“I thought you always wanted to play with me? Ever since when your father showed you that new device of his, you found me watching and you never stopped playing until recently. Did you not like our games?”

Andre thought about the “device”...his father created a device, no, machine that was said to alter someone’s psyche and he went with his father to work after graduating at his university and...all he remembered was finding the youngling who was later a resident of the asylum...

You know I’ll be here...

You can’t be doing this stupid prank all the time...

That’ll jog some memories and maybe your lost ambitions...

He frantically looked around at the walls and their words only to notice that each time he returned to a previous wall, it had new sentences, new glyphs, and sometimes drawings. This wasn’t right. He then stopped when the youngling appeared in front of him angry.

“Don’t you recognize me, Andre?” The youngling said as their voice suddenly changed to his own.

The human stepped out of the room panting as his heart beat faster. He turned around only to scream as the patients that normally roamed the halls were now all the youngling themself. He muttered, “No, no, no, no!”

They all spoke in unison, “What’s wrong, Andre? Don’t you want play?”

He ran in the opposite direction, but the voices only seemed to be growing louder as everyone he passed was a replica of the youngling. Laughter, sickening laughter was all heard could be heard as he went to the sanitarium and barricaded the door.

This wasn’t happening! He paced as his mind tried to piece together just what was going on. Suddenly, he looked at the walls of the sanitarium and froze. Those words weren’t there before! Various sentences and random words were all over the room, on the ceiling and decorating the floor. The most prominent was the word “play” and it was daunting.

He clutched his head muttering for it to go away. The youngling wasn’t real, or were they? This wasn’t real, or was it?

“Andre, you need to come back,” the youngling said behind him.

Despite the visible barricade, the youngling somehow still managed to get in and Andre freaked as they reached for him. The barricade behind them pulsed as if someone was trying to break down the door but it changed to where the objects bent and shifted into a heartbeat.

“Andre, I know you can hear me,” the youngling said again. “Please, son, you need to calm down.”

No, he wouldn’t go anywhere with this kid even if it was the last option. He grabbed a surgery kit from beneath a cabinet and held the largest scalpel before glaring at the youngling who now looked concerned. He backed away as the youngling held up their servos.

“Easy now, Andre, put that down!”

He didn’t want and as the barricaded door’s pulse quickened, he snapped. Running at the youngling, he impaled them in the chest until they fell to the ground.

“You cannot make me!” He said in a childish tone. “Leave me alone!”

He brought the scalpel down as he watched the youngling’s face grow terrified. Energon spilled all over his coat and face as the barricade gave out and several more younglings came through equally horrified by what they saw. He kept going regardless until a giant puddle of red was present...but he thought it was blue a moment ago.

Andre stopped with a grunt as he then noticed his hands weren’t human anymore, but they were the youngling’s. In a flash, the body beneath him wasn’t the youngling’s, it was the head doctor himself. The Energon staining his hands...servos wasn’t Energon.

He suddenly felt a prick on his shoulder and swiped his arm to knock down a relatively frightened nurse...not a youngling clone. He tried to stand up but whatever they injected immediately took effect and he stumbled on all fours until he blacked out.

When Andre awoke, he was in a room.

“Wakey, wakey, Andy, I knew you would be back!” The youngling said with glee. “You always do.”

He looked to the side and acknowledged the youngling with a nod.

“How long was I out?”

“Mm, maybe a few days, but that doesn’t matter now. We can play again!”

“That sounds...fun.”

The youngling handed him a glass of water but when he tried to reach for it, he frowned as he couldn’t move his arms from the straight jacket.

“So, what game would you like to play?”

While Andre and the youngling talked, several doctors watched behind a one-way glass and one of them shook his head, “Poor kid, that experiment broke his mind. And he was such a promising orderly. He wanted to help them, but he couldn’t help his own father. Reduced to a child-like state, such a shame.”

The human and Minicon doctors watched as the water covered a corner of the room and Andre was banging his head against the wall muttering, “Play, play, come and play with me.”

“Do you know who will take Dr. Robinson’s place?”

“Can’t say but I think our supervisor, Roadline, is going to be promoted by the Board.”

“Doesn’t he have a youngling?”

“No, Heyday passed away a few years ago. Besides, I wouldn’t trust a kid around an insane asylum, especially not near Andre. The guy’s already thinks he’s a child, that should be enough.”

One doctor finally activated the speaker. “Andre, will you come out today?”

Andre shook his head, “No, not today. Long gone...”

“True, but it would be nice to see you again one day.”

They continued to observe Andre, some with defeated sighs and others who stayed quiet watching the man in 13B repeatedly talk to himself nonstop. The scribbles on the wall did nothing but encourage him.

Chapter Text

Keenan walked the park and while a few people gave him looks, the children he passed pointed with giant grins. He waved back to them, sometimes giving them a high five or stopping to take pictures. He looked like a cartoon character to them; a purple Australian Shepherd with black and blue patterns and a white underbelly certainly drew their attention against anything else in the park. Kids loved abnormally colored animals and so did he.

Several Cybertronians complimented his suit. He found that they were much more open about dressing like animals than humans were, which was somewhat ironic. Given half the Transformer populace had animal-based bots, it wasn’t surprising.

The suit was expensive but worth it. The Australian Shepherd was his favorite dog, and he laughed inwardly that he found the breed became the talk among many in his neighborhood out of curiosity. Very few knew he chose it for a secondary reason as well. It was because of his mother’s dog, Princess, whom he grew up with. The late Princess always had her royal purple bed; his mother loved to spoil that dog. He couldn’t blame her.

“Starting without me?! Bad doggie!”

Keenan gave out a howling laugh as his partner-in-crime, Emma Lee, appeared on his left. In a white unicorn fur suit with a rainbow mane and tail, sparkling split hooves, rainbow cartoon eyes and a swirl-patterned horn, Emma Lee playfully jogged up and gave Keenan a high hoof-to-paw.

“And here I thought you wouldn’t show up,” Keenan chuckled. “You finally got the suit fixed! What was wrong with it?”

“Remember the night you and I went to May’s place, and I fell through the balcony door?”

“Yeah?”

“Glass got embedded in it and I couldn’t find all the pieces. Finally, I managed to but had to tear a portion of my suit in the back because the glass wasn’t coming out no matter what I tried hence the patchwork,” she said, showing him the backside where he noticed there was now a pink saddle patched in.

“That looks sick...but you know how the people here spread rumors and will think that’s for-”

“Eh, not going to lie, one day I just might use it for that. My boyfriend would love it. Besides, I’m a big, sparkly goddamn unicorn! You think I give a shit now what others say?”

Keenan shrugged, “Good point.”

“Exactly,” Emma Lee said.

A few children and younglings approached in awe but the most gleeful was a little girl. Both Keenan and Emma Lee saw she had a unicorn backpack and the latter of the two crouched down.

“Hello!”

The little girl giggled and waved, “Hi, Un-e-corn!”

“My name’s Emma. What’s yours?”

“Mackenzie,” the girl said swaying in place with her hands together.

Emma Lee bopped the kid gently on the head when she noticed the pink snow beanie she had, “Nice to meet you, Mackenzie.”

As Emma Lee interacted with the girl, Keenan greeted a few of the other kids before he was met with a woman no older than 24 accompanied by a Toy Minicon of bright yellow. He expected the woman to be scoffing like most other adults did but instead she smiled.

“My daughter likes you guys. She’s with your friend.”

Keenan nodded, “Oh, yeah, kids love the colors and the suits.”

The woman then said, “It’s her birthday tomorrow and we’ve been trying to give her a few special days beforehand to build up to the excitement. This probably made her day meeting her favorite animal.”

“Birthday girl, huh? Well, we’re glad we could help!”

The Toy Minicon replied, “She’s probably going to ask if you two will appear tomorrow. Hopefully, the truth of the matter won’t make the day any less special.”

Emma Lee then spoke, “We can swing by, Keenan.”

Keenan acknowledged his friend and said to the woman and the Minicon, “If you want, we could both come over.”

The woman put a hand on her chest, exchanging a pleased glance with her companion before growing concerned. “You would do that? I mean, um, I don’t want to mess up any plans you have tomorrow-”

“No, no, honestly, I was just going to clean my house tomorrow. I got nothing on the schedule, and I’d love to make your daughter’s birthday special. Emma only has yoga class tomorrow morning then she’s spending the rest of her day off at her house. Name a time and the place and we’ll be there.”

“Thank you so much!” The woman said pleasantly, “Allspark-Sumdac Tower Gardens is where we’re hosting the party at 2 PM. I’m an employee there so they let me do that for her. I will pay you and everything.”

“You’re welcome. See you, tomorrow.”

As the woman, Minicon and Mackenzie said their goodbyes, Keenan was smirking underneath the dog head at Emma Lee who turned to him giddy. “Ay, we got a gig!”

“Yes, we do. Children smiling warms my heart. Does it defrost yours?”

The unicorn punched him in the shoulder, “Hey now.”

They walked through the park for the next hour, waving at kids and talking to curious strangers, some of whom were furries themselves asking about the costume. All in all, a perfect day.

The next day, both Keenan and Emma Lee showed up as promised. The kids of all types were immediately on them like glue, petting the fur on the top of the suit’s head and asking funny questions which Keenan and Emma answered as best they could. While Emma was Mackenzie’s main interest, he was the mascot for at least half the audience.

The gardens held many flowers, beautiful scenery and the setup was just in the shade guarded by the Tower’s large shadow. The gazebo held the gifts and the banner while the cake and the treats were on a table nearby. The glow of the Allspark high in the top of the building reeked of power, adding a luminescent glow to the plant life around it, especially the garden itself. One could say it was like walking among a fairytale world, and the kids loved it.

From birthday cake to presents, they stayed throughout the party, longer than they believed they were going to. Pictures were the most fun...but a few parents didn’t seem to enjoy their company. Keenan knew the common bias against furries and knew the parents thought of them that way. He wanted to clear up the confusion but decided against it to keep the kids from having any drama. The parents seemed to hold their tongues just for the same reason but when he went into the Allspark Tower complex to take a breather...

“I know what you are, you scoundrel!”

Keenan sighed at turned to look at an older lady who eyed him like he was some type of pariah. “Lady, I’m just doing my job.”

“You keep your perverted ‘paws’ off those kids. They don’t need to be exposed to whatever filth you touched, given you want to be an animal so much you probably live like one.”

“Okay, first off, there’s only a portion of furries who dress up for pleasure. Secondly, do you think I like children like that? Hell no,” Keenan said, taking off his expensive toon dog head to reveal his jet-black hair. “Third, you aren’t even close on that assumption.”

The lady scoffed and after dissing him, walked off. He scowled before taking a second to shake off the negativity. Not in front of the kids. He placed it head back on and stretched, allowing some of the suit’s stiffness to be broken through.

---------------------------

The Allspark sent energy throughout Sumdac Tower. It gave and received equal amounts to keep the entire system up and running. The whole city was in its reach. As the galaxy-themed ceiling and walls made the illusion of floating in space, it purred happily.

It sent a beam of energy to cackle through one of its outputs to the Tower’s security bay, a mild hiss echoing through the chamber. As the energy whipped and twisted, droplets of its power hit the floor and crept into vents. The floor of its room had several vents in which excess energy was collected to be fed into the system. However, a few drops hit the corner of the room and dwindled on the slope before merging. As it headed toward its designated vent, it hit a crack and was diverted away.

Following the crack instead, the energy sparked and stopped at the wall before suddenly sinking down the wall through the floor. It left behind the blue-tinted room and bounced off several pipes before hitting a crevice that led it down several stories. By the time it reached the second floor, it left a scar upon the piping in its wake. The pipe disappeared behind another wall, and it fell off onto a ceiling grate above the main lobby.

It accumulated over the seconds through the grate until it was a single strand of energy again. The droplet fell towards the ground.

--------------------------

“‘You want to be an animal so much you probably live like one.’ Yeah, lady, so I don’t have to deal with the likes of you. Stupid people today.”

After simmering down from the comment, Keenan walked back towards the gardens through the lobby having gotten a drink and was ready to trade places with Emma Lee for her break from the energetic kids.

As he approached the doors to the outside, a sudden drop of something glowing blue hit the corner of his dog head’s fake eye and fell through it onto his cheek. It felt warm but foreign. Oddly enough, it seemed to dissipate as fast as it came.

After a second, he simply shrugged and believed it to be in his imagination. Maybe he was sweating and didn’t realize it and the glare of the windows reflected it a different color. When he went outside, he winced as the light of the afternoon sun hit him now that the shadow of the Tower had moved since he had gone ever so slightly. The sun, however, was much more tense than normal and he was beginning to heat up a little within the suit. It never bothered him before.

Emma Lee walked towards him with a chuckle. “Keep them busy for me, Keenan, while I have a smoke.”

He suddenly flinched without warning, and he looked back to see she was about to tap his shoulder yet never saw her raise her arm to do so. He didn’t know how he knew to move and felt bad seeing her look at him either peeved or a bit thrown off by his reflexes. He wanted to say sorry, but she had already left.

As kids surrounded him with questions and wanting to play, he heard the adults talking to themselves about him, whispering from across the garden...something that normally couldn’t be heard by a human, especially one wearing a fake head. But his hearing was ten times better and if he could believe it, a part of him started thinking he was hearing through the fake ears themselves.

A newfound rush of energy was taking hold with a glaring blue tint to his eyesight. He wanted to play; he needed to do something. He led the kids to the various activities around the garden. Like the little foosball set up, the soccer set up, pin the tail, and more. Each one made him excited just as much as the children...and he wasn’t sure why. His heart seemed to go faster than normal, pulsing almost to an indescribable beat. Even when Emma Lee returned to help with the kids, his adrenaline kept going higher and he smiled.

By 7 PM, most of the kids were out, taken home finally by their parents. Mackenzie’s mother paid them a good $300 each for the five-hour visit, a generous payment for making her daughter’s birthday special. Her Minicon companion was equally grateful. But while Emma Lee was wiped out, Keenan was not.

The drive to his house in Emma Lee’s car was silent as she eyed him, both heads of the suits in the back seat. “Are you okay? You look like you’re on cocaine or something.”

“No, I just... didn’t know birthday parties could be so much fun, you know? I had a blast. Maybe I should be a furry clown.”

Emma Lee snickered as she continued to drive. She stopped in front of his house and as he walked up the steps, she called out, “See you tomorrow?”

“Maybe. I’ll call you to let you know.”

“Okay. Goodnight!”

Keenan entered his house and locked the door behind him. When he got to his bed and after a few grueling minutes of staring at it, he still felt high on something. He didn’t know why still, and it was bugging him. Turning around, he placed his dog head back on again and collapsed onto the bed backwards contemplating what to do. Slowly, he closed his eyes and tried to force himself to go to sleep even with the suit on.

The silence of the house was abruptly filled with whispers growing louder. They sounded like they were in his head, and he shot up immediately. They echoed, telling him gibberish. He was trying to get out of the bed completely when a sudden flare of pain shot through his spine and through his skull. He screamed and grabbed the fake head over his own...but he couldn’t take it off. No matter what he tried, the dog head refused to budge.

The suit grew tight against him with a burning sensation running across his body. His bones began to shift within, growing, moving, readjusting in the suit itself. Then the cold feeling of metal started to appear on the suit, through the suit. His jaws enlarged and protruded at a slant as his eyes fused with the fake eyes of the dog head before suddenly glowing blue.

Bio lights of a light blue warped across his body as he held his head no longer human but armored and animalistic. The fake tail began to wag on its own, acting on his screams as he dragged his new claws across his snout. The claws of his feet growing fast damaged the flooring of his bedroom. His chest expanded to a metal overlay as he could feel his heart no longer beating but instead humming, caving into a ball of pure energy. A spark. His legs felt like they were breaking in several places as metal embodied them, knees turning to mechanical joints. His spine grew panels of steel that flexed up and down to react to his misery.

The suit was gone, destroyed, he should say...because it was him. By the time the pain faded, his head touched the ceiling. Harsh breaths came from a canine-like snout with his fangs and mouth snarling. He stumbled to the ground, pausing when he saw the clawed servos holding him from hitting the floor entirely. He lifted a shaking servo with a whimper, his ears folding back which he took notice of and grabbed them as best he could, stunned.

Bumping into everything around him, he turned as quick as he could, ignoring the mess his tail made by swiping everything off his furniture in his haste, to look at himself in his closet mirror. He gasped as he saw the reflection of a Shephard-like bot staring back. His faceplates looked about the same as any other Transformer’s but with the addition of an elongated snout. His optics were a bright blue and on his chest was a neutral symbol in the shape of a circle with rings. His armor was purple with black fading into it on his limbs. Blue and black specks on his backside and back helm decorated him, and his abdomen and inner thighs were white. These were all the same colors as his suit...

“No, no, no, no! Wha-?!”

He pawed at his faceplates terrified before growling at himself. He forced himself to stop by slapping his cheek and quickly grabbed his phone with the tips of his claws. After several failed attempts, he carefully dialed Emma Lee and tapped his claws against the floor anxiously.

“Pickup, pickup! Please!”

Emma Lee’s voice came through as a pre-recorded message after one minute. He left an emergency voicemail, one pleading for her help. In a brief bout of anger, he threw his phone across the room.

Frantic and scared, Keenan crawled on all fours through the house, breaking through doorways and forcing furniture out of their places as he moved towards the door. Unfortunately, he busted down the damn thing and tumbled out of the house with part of the frame stuck on his neck. He ripped it off in frustration before peering around.

The streets were dead with seldom cars moving but upon seeing someone walking in the distance, something in his mind became defensive. Too close was that person to his home. Who’s to say that person didn’t do this to him? Fear and paranoia pushed his instincts into overdrive. Slowly, he crept towards the figure with fangs bared. He wanted to attack them, the energy coursing within desired to do something, anything!

But before he could do anything, someone screamed behind him. A neighbor had heard the ruckus of him moving around his house, specifically the damage done and went outside. Soon, multiple lights in various houses and apartments were on and many figures peered out their windows in search of the disturbance. All they saw was a monster.

Scrambling away as lights of the neighborhood seemed to follow towards him, he ran unsteady across the asphalt still not used to being quadrupedal. He turned the street corner and slid when he nearly bumped into two truck Transformers simply enjoying the night. The black and beige one growled and reared up ready to squash him while the blue and dark green one immediately backed away startled. He recognized them as companions to a couple on the block, brothers who he had encountered day by day...but they didn’t seem to recognize him.

Upon alerting the two brothers, several other Transformers were awakened by the screams and angry shouts, stretching from their makeshift hideaways in the yards or the driveways they rested among occasionally. From Predacons to Minicons to even a Junkion Pygmy Distiller dragon one neighbor had; they all snarled at the false intruder, and Keenan feared for his life with his tail between his legs cowering.

One Predacon, hippogriff-like, climbed on top of the roof and upon spotting Keenan, lit up its throat before spewing blue fire down with utmost malice. Keenan dodged the flames as they died upon touching the asphalt, feeling the heat skimming his armor. An elephant based Kanjian trumpeted and nearly crushed him, his tail inches from being caught as the heavy pede came down.

He was nearly on the verge of tears as sirens of patrols sped down the neighborhood paths. The Transformer and human neighbors didn’t hesitate to guide them his way. He jumped on top of a roof right under the faded moon, his glowing eyes peering back. A big mistake. The cops, now being escorted by a professional team of cybernetic animal control, started shooting tranquilizers and destabilizers at him.

They missed as he jumped from house to house, stirring up shingles and leaving claw marks. Keenan, out of ideas, only had one choice left. Go to Emma Lee and try to get her to understand his predicament. If she believed him, she could help him fix the curse.

Abruptly, he whimpered when he felt something hit his thigh and halted to look back. A tranquilizer dart meant for cybernetic animals as big as a Kanjian monogoliath was embedded in the cracks between the armor direct into the protoform. Another one hit his shoulder and a third on his neck. He tried to run but merely stumbled as the tranquilizers began taking effect.

No, he couldn’t give up now. Keenan tried to press forward but his legs refused to work. As his vision became fuzzy, he slipped off the roof and tumbled, hitting the porch overhang and cracking it. With a bang, he hit the lawn of a neighbor and panted as the blaring red and blue lights impaired his limited vision. Silhouettes of officers closed in on him.

“Contact Detroit Regional Animal Convey Outpost and have it put in a temporary hold,” an officer said, “until we figure out what it is.”

“Doesn’t look like any cybernetic canine species on record. Could be a new type or one of those color-changers, the ones Black Ops use in their missions.”

“I don’t care what it is. It broke into someone’s house, maybe killed them. Investigate the house on Prescott Street and put this mutt away.”

That’s all he heard before his world went dark.

When he awakened, he found himself on grass. Groaning, he placed a paw on his head before trying to rub his face when his senses went haywire and immediately made him perk up to peer around. His breath hitched as he saw various bones, a specialized temporary housing area with trees and brush, but, worst of all, he was in a giant enclosure...and people were staring at him through glass. A sign that read Danger: Hostile Animal was placed at eye level of the audience. Above, the sky was caged to prevent him from escaping in case he climbed the trees. He was trapped like a zoo animal. He was caged like a dog.

The kids seen pointed at him the same as they did when he was human in a suit but was more focused on the fact that he appeared to be an unknown breed of cybernetic canine than the color scheme. They laughed at his hesitance; the adults now looked at him with fascination but not for the reason he wanted.

“Please, somebody help me! I don’t belong here! Get me out!”

His cries went on deaf ears until he noticed the children clapping while a few backed away startled. He heard someone mutter, “Oh, look, the big doggie’s barking!”

Barking? Barking. They couldn’t understand him because he wasn’t talking. He was barking like a dog. He froze, ears drooping with a whine. His blue optics weren’t very bright as he moved backwards scared and mortified. He hid in the brush shivering, much to the disappointment to the kids and complaints from the adults.

But his newfound position allowed him to see the tip of the Allspark Tower glowing blue. He slowly put the pieces together and stared at it shocked. The droplet on the suit that went through the fake eyes...it was Allspark energy! How else could this have happened?

“No...” He whispered defeated.

Maybe there was a way to contact the Allspark to undo the curse.

“There’s the dog that did it.”

Three officers near him on the other side of the glass came up with a late 20-year-old woman. Emma Lee. He instantly raced towards her only to find his enclosure dropped off into water right before the glass to prevent him front ramming it to escape. He peered at her as he overheard the conversation.

“We found this canine wandering in the neighborhood. Seems that it went through your friend’s house and ate him.”

That was a lie! He was right here! Emma Lee stared at him and at first, she noted the color scheme. He smiled, wagging his tail when he thought she recognized him.

“I got a message from his phone, but the sound was nothing but barking and whining. Inhuman.” She then asked, “Why are its colors the same as Keenan’s suit though? Unless-”

Keenan’s hopes were shot down immediately when a Cybertronian officer said, “Some canine and feline species on Cybertron and Caminus have the ability to scan colors, imprinting on a few of their liking and changing their armor to match. Pseudo-impersonation and camouflage. Seems this one took a liking to your friend’s animal suit which has happened to other victims in the past of Cybertron’s aggressive dogs as well. It’s nothing new, to be honest, only a confirmation that the dog met him and...well, for the time being, it’ll be here.”

Keenan’s hope as Emma Lee accepted the explanation died. He barely blinked as he watched her nod and walk away, not before giving him one last look. Children, younglings, humans, and Transformers took their place in seconds to be front seats to the spectacle that was him.

Worse, the news of the potential that he was going to be stuck here possibly forever made his spark sink. He slowly peered towards the ground then at the water, still unfamiliar with the reflection. From human to beast, furry to fur. There was nothing on his mind except just why this would happen to him of all people. What were the odds? What are any odds of such a massive spiral that wasn’t even his fault.

He didn’t know how long he stood there in disbelief, though the rest of the day hearing officials of the enclosure talk about him and those who came to study him like he was a new species, nor did he know how long it was when a few of the handlers came through with the vials to take blood with and restraints at the ready that night. He didn’t move. He only looked at them pitifully as they approached him like he was a wild dog...and now, he was.

It didn’t even hurt, and all he could think of was the irony of his life. He wanted to be a dog, dressed up as a dog and got what he wanted. He was just another animal in the zoo.

Chapter Text

Dakarai, Tariro, and Ammara scouted the dense jungles of the Zimbabwe region, isolated from constant monitoring of wildlife conservationists and police. Picking their shots wisely, they got a black rhinoceros, two lions, and a plains zebra within the hour. With dwindling animals spreading out and leaving the area in fear, they high fived one another at their bounty, another successful poaching operation.

Ammara laughed, “I got the lions, boys, what do you have again?”

Tariro cursed playfully and waved her off at her bragging. She continued to laugh as she tossed the hide of the lion into the Jeep. Dakarai replied, “Yes, but I have the most money. Rhinoceros hide goes more than lions.”

“Don’t forget my zebra,” Tariro said, patting his bare chest in fake upset.

The three snickered before jumping into their Jeep and taking the backroads out of sight back to their private hideout. With a truck in waiting and some more of their crew getting the week’s hunts loaded, including a Junkion trader and a Velocitronian gun runner in the same business as them, the truck driver was given clear instructions to take the cargo to the northern airport and use as many discreet paths as possible. As Dakarai unloaded their prey, the truck left with no issue. He told the crew still outside to prepare his load for skinning and valuable part removal. He aimed to make a lion into a taxidermy specimen.

Ammara went to their tent and parked it on her chair as Tariro followed to hang out with her. Dakarai followed suit with a laugh, “You’re exhausted already? What is this?”

“This is my time, that’s what this is.”

Tariro poked fun at her. “She’s just moody.”

He was swatted quickly with chakla she had by her bedside. The man was more confused than anything.

Dakarai took a lion’s tooth and was making it into a necklace when he asked, “What are we going to hunt tomorrow? Some clients want another zebra, alive this time, and others want the same old ivory from the elephants. By try finding an elephant with no painted tusks now. No good in value.”

Ammara shrugged, “We’ve been able to bypass the issue before...”

“Yes, but for how long? Doesn’t this seem like the same old routine?”

Tariro grunted, “Same old routine makes us money. Where would the issue be in that? Don’t tell me you want to try and go after something else. Too risky.”

“Then maybe it’s worth it. Imagine how much people would pay for something rare like maybe a Cybertronian,” Dakarai said with a smile. He rubbed his fingers on a hand, “And how much would they pay for the Minicons, the Predacons, and Dinobots, yeah?”

The other two looked at him strangely before Ammara asked, “That would be risky.”

Tariro countered, “But worth it indeed. Animals are one thing; hunting robots is a whole different specialty. We could be richer than ever.”

The three slowly began to agree with one another. It was a long shot of how they were going to get started, but every job had its risks. What difference would it be between animals and cybernetic beings? Metal against bone? Metal was arguably more valuable for military use as natural armor could withstand most human weaponry. And who wouldn’t want a Dinobot or Predacon head mounted on their wall?

Dakarai bit his lip in thought, “And we would be the best hunters in the world perfecting it. Who else could say they could do it?”

Ammara and Tariro each nodded and laughed as they began planning.

The following week, they bought the most powerful non-classified weapons money could get them that could damage a Transformer if not outright kill one. A supplier in Japan sent them a shipment in a private cargo plane, and they marveled at their new stock upon opening the crates. High-heated sabot rounds compressed into magnified, Cybertronian-grade bullets with the same power and explosive punch as the old human-made variants.

They put together their weapons and attached the ammo belt that came with each before going out and testing them. There was a Cyber-cattle roaming sanctuary near Mount Darwin. With a few other cybernetic animals also within the perimeter of the government-protected property, they picked their targets the same as last time.

Dakarai aimed for the massive cybernetic bovine with a nice pair of horns and yellow optics, cable-like tail occasionally moving. The compressed sabot round was fired when he saw his shot. The bull’s chest and part of its neck ruptured as Energon poured out. It stumbled with a broken voice box and collapsed with its optics flickering to black. The spark was destroyed, and Dakarai laughed as he kissed his gun happily.

“Doesn’t that beat all? Hahaha, we’re in business now!”

The only downside was how loud it was. After firing on the bovine, they thought they heard distant vehicles. Utilizing their Junkion friend’s truck mode, they hauled the dead beast away before any nearby sanctuary operatives could find them.

Using what their Transformer friends knew about Cyber-cattle parts who cared little about their plan or the future deaths of similar species, the most valuable part of Cyber-cattle were the gong-like chest kibble that acted like a natural bell to ward off predators...that they accidentally ruptured by killing the creature. The other parts worth some money were the horns naturally, the undamaged armor of the backside and top limbs as they predicted, and surprisingly the optics that could be used for transplants. Unlike Earth creatures, some parts like optics were universal as long as the size of the organs were the same.

They split the Cyber-cow into pieces and prepared to ship it to the first buyers. Sure enough, they got multiple buyers within the first hour. Cybernetic parts sold even more than organic due to most people having the inability to kill such creatures. Sabot guns mixed with Cybertronian grade metal-piercing slugs were not a common weapon nor were they available for everyone. Only armory experts and specific branches were able to obtain them usually. They just knew the right people and with the weapons in their possession, they could make an even bigger fortune.

They started small not to draw attention to themselves. Dakarai aimed for a hira hyena native to Junkion roaming the savanna with its organic counterparts. The creature laughed with animalistic warning prior to him lining up the shot. It stopped laughing soon enough while the spotted hyenas it was with scattered unsure. He tagged and bagged a decent sum with it.

Ammara managed to track down a monogoliath, a massive cybernetic Mammoth with rigid armor and tusks that split in patterns like jagged branches. Herds of African elephants merged with the massive monogoliaths, and she aimed for a titan most impressive. The matriarch of the monogoliaths was a huge monster, and it seemed to not mind its offspring among organic counterparts that showed little worry about the differences. In their minds, they thought they were the same thing. And she treated it exactly as just another large target. The gun pierced through its optics on the first shoot and the second blew up his processor, leaving the monster to fall sluggishly onto its back knees and tipping to its side dying.

Tariro aimed a little bigger in the food chain. He spotted a rare Gemenite Minicon on the border of Zimbabwe and Botswana, a Camien breed with unique gem-like growths within its spark chamber that radiated energy. The gems were valued at a huge 20 million per karat payday, and there was rumored to be hundreds of gems that could grow among the body, each a pound in weight and over two inches in length. The Minicon was elusive and less than a hundred existed on Earth. Billionaires would pay a fortune to have the gems in their possession. That was his mark.

He aimed for the head as its chest was the most valuable part of it. As he was preparing to pull the trigger, the Gemenite Minicon suddenly grew still and looked up frantically behind it away from Tariro’s position. At first, the poacher didn’t care and was about to fire when the Minicon hissed at something near the denser section of jungle. He paused as a shadow of a sharp point with a hint of gold twitched as it raised up. Whatever it was attached to was bigger than the Minicon, and Tariro didn’t want to accidentally shoot what he didn’t know.

The Gemenite Minicon hissed, making its spine rattle and claws appear ready to defend itself. Tariro saw more of the shadow’s outline…and saw four red optics slowly fade into being along with other bio lights. He saw the shadow’s claws and true height as it stalked closer with an animalistic, guttural clicking akin to a snarl. The appendage he had seen previous to the true form was a part of a quadruplet as three other sharp points with joints shivered on its back with anticipation while its servos and arms kept bent ready to strike. It was hunched over slightly in its predatory stance. The closer it got, the more the human saw its colors of black, purple, and gold by the shredded light coming through.

The Minicon made itself intimidating. It proved a waste. A sudden swipe of one of the pointed back limbs of the creature impaled and launched the Minicon against the tree that partially broke into pieces; it died on impact with its spark chamber and most of its internal organs crushed by how fast it hit the trunk. The abrupt ending to the encounter was not what Tariro expected, and he lowered his weapon in disbelief once the larger Transformer came into view.

A femme with four spider-like gold-tipped legs on her back and gold details across her black and purple armor hissed in warning stomping towards the body to the Minicon to make sure it was dead. The four red optics narrowed in sync as she growled nudging the annoyance. The rounded panels connected to her lower spine that could form her spider mode’s abdomen flashed its deadly black widow symbol with the movement in the light. With it deemed deceased, the femme snorted and stomped on the remains of the Minicon as she walked off, disregarding the gems as they held no value to her and crushing the leftover armor carelessly. Tariro watched this monster stalk by back into the jungle, her bio lights forced into stealth mode once again as she welcomed being in the darkness she could hide in.

He was stunned by the clash of creatures but arguably, the encounter left him without having to waste a bullet. He waited for a good minute before going out to inspect the body to make sure she was gone. Grimacing at the carnage, the spider leg she used to swat the Minicon like a fly went through the spark in seconds and had ripped upward upon launching it. It was then reevaluated that the Minicon had died even before impact. The speed in which the femme struck was evidence of a well-practiced hunter. The only thing that threw him off the most was she didn’t do anything with her prey. She just left the body to rot. Granted, the Minicon showed aggression and chances were she reacted angrily more than out of hunger.

He was spared from having nothing to bring back as the gems were in broken clusters but still could be sold. He collected as many of them as he could dig from the corpse. Once he had his treasure, he booked out of the area in case that monster returned.

Tariro brought out his phone once the curiosity got the better of him and decided to do a little research. Not every Transformer was known but many were in a collective database provided by their allied worlds. He searched if the femme was recognizable and sure enough, the search ended with a name: Blackarachnia. What worried him was her unique ability of power-stealing through paralysis. While it had no effect on humans, as far as anyone knew, it was devastating to the unlucky victims in her sights. Other known abilities were documented but mostly had to do with venom…but none of them mentioned being able to conceal her natural luminance. An interesting prey to hunt, and the venom of a Transformer was worth a lot.

Tariro drove back to camp with his spoils, meeting up with Ammara and Dakarai who were figuring out how to dismantle their cybernetic animals to ship. He plopped the bag of gems down on the table and laughed, “You would not believe my luck. A Transformer they call Blackarachnia did the hunting for me. Save a bullet for another day, yeah?”

Ammara stopped sawing through the base of the monogoliath’s tusks when she heard the name. Frowning, she asked, “Black-arachnia?”

Dakarai was confused. “A black…spider?”

“A Transformer. A female,” he replied. “She killed the other and left them dead, left the gems and we are now rich.”

The other two weren’t as sure if the logic was a good thing. They simply let it be and returned to cutting up their spoils. By the time they got everything the way they wanted, Tariro had a crazy idea.

“Do you know how valuable the spider’s venom would be? How much her limbs and parts could sell as?”

“Don’t tell me you are going to go after her. That’s a bad idea,” Ammara said.

“How is it bad?”

“When there’s a dangerous animal, you need to assess what needs to be done to trap it. A Transformer isn’t the same as an animal, especially one as deadly as this Blackarachnia as you described.”

Tariro huffed, “We can do it, no problem.”

Dakarai raised a brow before gesturing out into the wild. “And when do you want to try and do this? It’s nearly dark.”

“Tomorrow, we hunt in the morning. She should be asleep by then.”

The others didn’t seem to be completely sure, but Tariro knew they recognized the value of a rare arachnid class Transformer. The venom alone was worth millions. They reluctantly agreed and staged their bounties in secure boxes for shipping before heading in for the night.

The next morning, all three of them got their weapons out, capable of destroying the armor. All they needed really was venom, but extra parts of the spider femme would be valuable just the same. Their Junkion friend, Roughtire, came along to ensure there was plenty of backup just in case.

They walked the African jungle away from known villages knowing Blackarachnia was solitary by how she ended the Gemenite Minicon. The further in they went, the darker the shadows were despite the light of the canopies raining down. It was an ideal place for a spider. Looking for evidence like tracks or recent prey, they carefully examined every tree they passed for any peculiar markings until they stumbled upon webbing remnants.

Unlike organic spider webs, Transformer webs were refined with a malleable metal putty-like material that could withstand strong forces and appeared with transparent crystals to make them glisten beautifully. While pretty indeed, it was also a sign their target had attacked something as Energon was also spotted vaguely on the edges of the web pieces dangling. Dakarai and the others cocked their weapons now on high alert.

Tariro gripped his gun hard as the jungle ambiance made it a little suspicious. Everything seemed to be more distant than normal. They listened for any movement. For a creature as large as an alien spider, one would assume she would make some type of noise before even getting close to them.

“Something doesn’t seem right,” Ammara muttered.

“No? I kind of figured,” remarked Tariro.

“Shut up, both of you,” their leader hissed.

A faint clicking, insectoid almost, resonated across the jungle in multiple directions. Even Roughtire was uncertain and cowered instinctively. It surprised them for sure as they all peered in separate directions. Tariro felt eyes on him, not Dakarai’s, not Ammara’s...the slow sound of something unsticking and the hissing of lights suddenly made him jerk around and saw a giant spider coming down hovering just above Ammara with eight red optics and open, twitching chelicerae.

“AMMARA!”

Ammara screamed when the fangs of the spider snagged her rapidly. They all heard them piercing into her body and crushing bone. Everyone panicked as the black and purple spider retreated up into the canopy quickly as they shot upward. The explosives destroyed tree branches that came down nearly on top of them, but Blackarachnia proved scarily quick. They lost her just as fast.

Ammara’s gun was left behind which Dakarai grabbed and sprinted opposite where they believed the spider went. Roughtire and Tariro were equally frightened when they heard a darker growl somewhere behind them. They ran as far as their camp realizing just how much of a mistake they had made. As Roughtire hid, Dakarai threw Ammara’s weapon in the passenger seat of an immobile regular vehicle.

“What the hell was that?!”

Tariro was scared and irate at the same time. “What do you mean?”

“What was that?!” Dakarai yelled. “That’s the female you saw?! That’s a monster! You failed to warn us of that and now, Ammara’s gone because of you!”

The other man was still trying to process how fast everything went downhill that he could only stutter, “It-It-It wasn’t my fault. I thought...”

“You thought wrong! This is, oh by the gods, this is a disaster!”

“We can still get the money!”

Dakarai paused and gestured out into the dense jungle suddenly upset. “Damn with the money!!! Ammara? Our sister in arms! We are supposed to look out for each other!”

“I tried! I-”

Both the Junkion and the Velocitronian near them grew alarmed before the two men heard the cracking of brush but no movement in the visible dark underlay of the jungle. The other people at the camp fled backwards yelling among themselves, but Dakarai and Tariro were too focused on the origin of the noise. They both cocked their weapons and stood their ground. Then they spotted her.

The dark silhouette hidden among the foliage slowly had her bio lights and eyes turning on. The baffling ability to hide her lighting made them stare uneasily as she stomped out into the open. Her back straightened as her four spider limbs coming up from her backside flickered irritably. While her robot mode held some beauty, the fangs she carried as well as the narrowed, annoyed four optics she had were unnerving. Snarling, the predatory beast showed off hints of blood among said fangs, red like a human’s.

In anger, Tariro let out a scream and aimed the gun. Blackarachnia responded with a roar and charged wicked fast. When he fired the next round of the explosive, she dodged it by shifting to the side but still went full sprint towards them. Dakarai nearly dragged his partner away leaving Roughtire to fight the femme.

They peered back horrified to see the mech caught by the neck and the spider limb tips glowing as they sank into the neck cabling. Like energy draining, whisps of blue coiled around the limbs and vanished towards her. Once she took what she wanted, a sudden snap of his neck had her throw his chassis towards the fleeing humans. They barely saw her left arm shift to support a grapple and gun set, Roughtire’s weapons for capturing or killing animals. When she aimed at them amused, they all but panicked.

A blast nearly tripped up Tariro as they ran to the other side of the camp, but Dakarai supported him to keep on his feet. The grapple missed but snagged the vehicle they passed which she then lobbed back. They happened to slow down before the bouncing truck could crush them, fleeing around it. They refused to stop as more screams were heard from men uselessly firing regular bullets at 25-foot femme. Sliding behind a truck, they reloaded with sweat running down their faces. They opted to get into it but they already heard she was very close. Exposing themselves now would just lead to capture and death.

Some of the screams subsided but were masked by explosions and the dark cackle of the femme. Then they heard her voice.

“Little vermin,” she growled.

Dakarai panted and heard one man not far from them begging for mercy. Both men pressed against the truck not ushering a word when their associate fell backwards into view near a tent. They slowly turned their heads at the man scrambling back like a whimpering animal. He held up one hand as if it would guard him from the shadow looming over him.

Abruptly, one of the spider legs shot straight down and impaled his skull. She dragged the body stuck on her sharp point and made it move face to face with her before she made a second impale him and tore him in half, making the two others watching quickly turn away upon hearing the aftermath being scattered across the ground. Tariro closed his eyes trying to tune out the squishy noises of discarded flesh then the slow prowl of footsteps.

“What...do we do now?” Tariro barely whispered.

Dakarai wanted to answer but heard Blackarachnia hiss, coming close to the truck when it was pushed back to the terror. Thankfully, their Velocitronian associate jumped onto the back of the monster, and she stomped in a circle trying to get him off. The men chose their chase to run into the jungle towards the nearest town.

They winced when the Velocitronian was shoved down and a heeled pede came down on his chest. With a might neither human expected, the mech’s chest collapsed and Blackarachnia purposefully dug her golden heel into the spark chamber with another animalistic bellow before turning her attention up at the fleeing men.

They yelled out as blasts from Roughtire’s stolen blaster exploded just behind them, another flying past them to destroy a tree. A few more shots and then nothing alerted them that Blackarachnia’s power had faded, but that didn’t make her any less deadly. The spider shook irritably and launched in a full-scale sprint, leaving upturned soil and grass with each step. The men dipped into the dense jungle hoping to lose her inside.

She pursued and Tariro fired back at her. The sabot struck her shoulder, making her armor spark as she was forced back and gave a high-pitched snarl. Before he could aim better, she leapt up among the canopies. Trees echoed with quick movements and the sound of shifting didn’t calm their nerves any less. The splotches of light had a shadow run across them at blazing speeds with a hiss.

“We can’t outrun her!” Dakarai said in defeat. The village was far without a vehicle and without their other weapons, they had to rely on facing her head on with the effective sabot rounds. They only had less than a dozen each.

They both slowed and were glancing up with ragged breaths, their guns ready. Dakarai thought he saw movement and fired in the direction of it. The trees caught the explosion with branches and smaller trees toppling down. No sign of Blackarachnia.

“Come on!” Tariro yelled.

Dakarai was silent trying to listen for her. Suddenly, webbing shot down and caught his foot. He tripped and dropped his weapon, but the webs blanketed Tariro who tried to fire up as he was bombarded by the sticky substance. His muffled struggling and flailing outline uselessly tried to tear at the strong webs, and Dakarai could only grow wide eyed as the insectoid clicking of the giant black widow was heard.

Blackarachnia landed in front of them in her beast mode with a part of her cephalothorax scarred with the burn damage of the sabot and snatched up Tariro as Dakarai desperately pulled at the webs holding his leg down. The other man was forcibly scrunched up before the large fangs pierced him to Dakarai’s dismay and terror. Tariro was still alive as blood was tainting the webs and sucked dry from his body. He winced hearing each holler. Blackarachnia showed no mercy in killing the man painfully.

Finally, Dakarai managed to get a knife from his pocket and cut the webbing off. He tried to reach for his weapon but webbing was shot to cover it. He stared at Blackarachnia who tore Tariro apart. Dakarai barely saw the other man practically shrunken and deathly pale. He was dead now, and Blackarachnia was still hungry glaring back at him. With no weapon other than a knife at his disposal, Dakarai could only do what he should have kept doing in the first place. As the last of his team alive, he sprinted as the spider pursued with a sinister eagerness.

It seemed like she was toying with him, making him run. It was a tense wickedness he found cruel knowing no matter how far he ran, she was right behind him. The harsh terrain was starting to make his feet sore even through his boots. His skin felt on fire going under the direct beams of light he assumed he was immune to having traversed the jungles for years in his profession.

When Blackarachnia finally lunged, he grabbed his knife and threw it after she transformed to get him in robot mode. She roared as the knife embedded in her cheek and aimed to backhand him. He diverted away hoping his stunt bought him time. It seemed Blackarachnia was faster in her animal form than the other as it took her little time to catch up.

After several minutes of torturous running, hearing the faint clatter of tips of metal spider legs skimming across the trees after him to make him paranoid, he threw up and stumbled out into a dirt road with a Shona village just to his right with low walls of stone. Like his prayers had been answered, he immediately waved and screamed until a few women with clay pots carrying water stopped and alerted their elders.

However, the group of elders came out with ungracious expressions. One elder took the lead and stopped Dakarai in his tracks. His staff held beads and decorations depicting animals and techno-organics alike, one of which looked like a spider.

“You, poacher...what have you done?”

“I-I am not a poacher!” He lied, “I am in danger! Please, help me!”

“Then why do you wear what is not yours?” The elder asked, pointing at the lion’s tooth around his neck with the staff. “Why has your presence brought death with you?”

Dakarai was taken aback. How could this man know about any of this? Then it dawned on him. Transformers were often associated with humans around the world. Many Transformers had partners and humans they befriended for whatever reason of their own. While there were a few of them among the village, who did Blackarachnia associate with?

The frightened man flinched as the spider crawled out into the open and approached the village only with optics focused on the poacher. To Dakarai’s surprise, the village elder raised a hand up. Blackarachnia obeyed the gesture and stopped, looking between the elder and her prey still upset but considerate. Dakarai was about to thank him when the elder then walked past him and brought his hand to place between the spider’s central optics. Blackarachnia slowly blinked and seemed to give a different type of hiss, not aggressive.

“Beautiful creature, Muvhimi Wechirikadzi, oh, how your home has been invaded by the unforgiving.”

Dakarai was quick to defend himself with a stutter, “She-She murdered my friends, killed other Transformers!!!”

The elder slammed his staff down making even the defiant man tense as Blackarachnia’s eight optics flared in response.

“Silence! She is doing what she must to protect herself and survive. Killing innocent animals for no purpose other than greed is not surviving. You are not welcome here for your crimes and since you drew her anger, you face what you have done. Your fate rests in her judgement. We will not interfere.”

Dakarai looked helplessly at the man who passed him without a care. He could practically hear the laughter of the spider that patiently waited for the villagers that seemed disinterested in helping the shamed man. They all guarded the wall to forbid him from setting foot past it and left him at the mercy of Blackarachnia.

Dakarai was pleading as he pressed against the wall of the village that shunned him. Blackarachnia stalked closer in her beast mode before transforming, her spider limbs shivering as she revealed a mouthful of fangs in a dark smirk. She came close, the bleeding cheek where his knife had stuck hardly fazing her in her focus. He knew she was playing with him. It was her way of boasting by intimidation, reminding him he would die. It was just up to her when.

He felt nothing short of a defenseless animal. Prey. Her shadow made him cower.

Blackarachnia reeled back a second, tipping her head as if to study him before abruptly lunging. His cries echoed across the village and the jungle that promptly ignored him. Flesh was ripped off bone. A meal for an animal. An execution for a monster.

-----------------------------------

When the authorities found the camp, they saw wild animals already feeding on the remains of the poachers. One man’s body was dragged away by a leopard with little care.

The head of the investigating team saw the trophies from successful poaching discarded to rot and the cybernetic animals taken were a shame to see. He immediately demanded, “Take all evidence and clear the camp. They were never here. Their disappearances will suffice as atonement for their actions.”

His team didn’t argue with him as they gathered all the pelts, bone, armor, and other trophies to bring back to their home of operations for processing. The remaining vehicles of the poachers were destroyed, the fabrics of tents and unwanted items were in a controlled burn pile, and the bodies of the Junkion and Velocitronian were taken later by hauling trucks to be assessed. All documents, journals, contacts, and other evidence were secured. The only thing left were the weapons.

The leader picked up the sabot gun and looked over the contents with disgust. Powerful enough to take down Transformers. Apparently, they weren’t considerate enough to leave creatures that could easily fight back alone.

One of his men then said, “Prints of a third robot going to and from the jungle on different sides of the camp. A few poachers may have fled. We found scorch marks on the ground to the west over here. Do we pursue?”

The leader smirked, “No, chances are they are dead and if they are still alive, they will be killed one way or another. Our land is home to many alien creatures now, and their luck has all but run out. Let the cowards die. What goes around, comes around.”

His men laughed among themselves at the foolishness of the poachers. There was no need to investigate further for the camp now dismantled. The only evidence they needed to look over were clues whether or not there were other locations of the markets these poachers were aligned to and who else was among them. While the buyers were protected under certain laws, they would be noted for any purchases of strictly illegal items.

As the team wrapped up at the crime scene, they all paused upon hearing an insectoid bellow common among the area. The men were silent, but they knew her presence. The vicious predator of Zimbabwe, Blackarachnia.

The leader of the team chuckled, “Indeed. Poor idiots. Muvhimi Wechirikadzi got them. Come...let us leave her in peace.”

The nickname from the local villages was well known across the country and beyond. Blackarachnia stalked the jungle and was most dangerous to anything that stood in her way. Locals were wise to her and knew how to keep on her good side. The poachers were hardly her first victims, and they wouldn’t be her last. Only fools who didn’t respect the land and its unspoken rules met a terrifying end. To Zimbabwe’s populace, they were no stranger to seeing bodies of the unfortunate left across the wilderness, those pitied to have crossed paths with her or the other Transformers that resided here.

Hearing her one last time, the men left the site to not disturb the protected land any further.