CHAPTER EIGHT
--Aquatron--
Megatron stopped over the two corpses he had just created from a pair of Sharkticon guards and walked up to the large set of monitors, each one connected to a security camera on every level. Sifting through the footage, he finally found what was perhaps that which had escaped from Level Thirteen, along with the cause of the quake he had felt earlier:
Optimus Prime, colored in black and gray, squared off against Tyrannicon and a tentacled creature just out of frame.
A cruel smile crossed Megatron's face. Memorizing the designation of the level the scene was taking place on (Level Fourteen, specifically), he turned and transformed into his tank mode, rolling out of the room.
* * *
His feet rooted to the ground, Nemesis Prime glared at Tyrannicon and the massive beast towering over both of them.
"If you expect me to be terrified of this abomination, then expect to be disappointed."
Tyrannicon shrugged. "Doesn't matter. The Leviacon hungers and he shall feed when he pleases."
At his signal, the Leviacon lunged at Nemesis, its tentacles swarming together as a mass. Behind the storm of tendrils, he could barely make out a pair of tiny eyes and a massive maw. Upon getting a clear shot of the mouth, Nemesis brought out his blaster and fired.
Recoiling from the pain, the Leviacon reared in rage before charging again at Nemesis. The corrupted Autobot brought out his red-bladed axe and swung it in a wide arc, severing several of its tentacles. This did little to stall the beast, for it lashed out another tendril and seized Nemesis with it, restraining his arms to prevent him from using his axe again.
"It doesn't have to be like this," Tyrannicon said. "If only you had behaved and obediently stayed in the perfect world we had created for you, you would have been greatly rewarded."
Nemesis Prime snarled. "A cliche statement; one which I refuse to believe."
The Sharkticon admiral gave a nonchalant shrug. "Your loss." To the Leviacon, he said, "Enjoy."
Its eyes glittering wit hunger, the Leviacon opened its maw and prepared to devour Nemesis. Suddenly, a blast of energy fired at the tentacle restraining the corrupted Autobot, causing the creature to recoil in pain and release him. As Nemesis dropped to the ground, both he and Tyrannicon turned to see Megatron standing before them, the barrel of his fusion cannon smoking.
"Nice color scheme, Prime," the Decepticon leader muttered. "It nicely reflects your inevitable demise."
"I don't know how you escaped," Tyrannicon growled, unsheathing a blade from behind his back. "But I shall deal with you all the same."
Megatron grinned. "You may try."
* * *
"Starscream." Jazz glowered at the Seeker Air Commander. "You're the last face I wanted to see today."
Starscream smirked. "Good day to you too. I hope we are not interrupting anything."
"Of course not!" the Curator said, sounding more nervous than welcoming. "I was just taking our guests to... retrieve a souvenir."
"Enough talk!" Lugnut bellowed, storming up to the Aquatronian leader. "Where is Lord Megatron? Where have you taken him to?"
"I'm afraid I don't know any Megatron," the Curator said. "You could try--"
"LIAR!" Lugnut reached out and seized him by the throat. "You know where Megatron is! TELL ME!"
The Curator winced as Lugnut tightened his grip. "If... you would... kindly release me... I could--"
"Wait a nanoklik," Ironhide said. "What is this about Megatron? Where could he have gotten to without his fellow 'Cons knowing?"
"Please," the Curator said weakly. "One... question... at a time...."
"Lugnut, release him," Starscream ordered. "Threatening to strangle the life out of him is not helping our case."
Grudgingly, Lugnut did as told and released the blue and white mech. As the Curator rubbed his neck, he cleared his vocal chords.
"Now then, allow me to explain. We Aquatronians are... scientists at heart, as well as pacifists and artists. We have borne witness to your war and, needless to say, we are appalled.
"Knowing that an accord of peace between your leaders would be long off, we decided to... capture them and subject them to a virtual world, in the hopes that they would realize the errors of their ways and make peace."
"And you expected that to work?" Arcee said incredulously. "Something's not right here...."
"Nobody scrap me for saying this, but I have to agree with the Autobot," Thundercracker said. "There's something this guy isn't telling us."
The Curator's green eyes darted around nervously. "I... care to elaborate?"
"You are virtually isolated from the rest of the galaxy," Jazz said. "Between the dome and the spark signature blockers, you have nothing to fear about the war. Why would you feel the need to end it?"
The look on the Curator's face was the exact one Jazz had been expecting; the same expression anyone would wear when they were caught red-handed. Glancing between the two faction, he smiled weakly.
"Well, as pacifists, we are pursuers of peace--"
Starscream silenced him by raising his null rays at him. "One last try...."
"And I must ask," Perceptor said, "for one last time: what is on Level Thirteen?"
A look of hesitation briefly passed over the Curator's face before saying, "Optimus Prime."
"And the earthquakes?" Spiral asked. "What caused that?"
"That, I cannot say."
Starscream stepped forward menacingly. "And why is that?"
Before the Curator could answer, the ground shook again, followed by a shrill howl of rage. Everyone looked down the corridor to see a large tentacle crash through the ceiling, followed by a massive maw.
"Well, there's your answer right there, 'Scream," Skywarp said. "Now, what in the blazing Pit is that thing?"
"The Leviacon," the Curator murmured. "And it hungers."
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