Transformers Regenerated: Tales from the Convoy Corps - Megalo Convoy

ON THE SHOULDERS OF GIANTS: MEGALO CONVOY'S TALE

Cycle 9314 (~1514 CE in Earth years)

“Oi! Careful with that beam, Moledive! Only so much of those to go around.”

The massive teal-and-tan mech grumbled in response as he thundered past Megalo Convoy, hefting a large metal beam on his shoulders. Moledive looked rather awkward carrying the beam given his arms terminated in a drill and pincers rather than standard hands, but he had been at this for long enough to handle them without much issue. That didn’t stop Megalo and the others from issuing words of caution, of course, especially when they did actually need to be careful with whatever resources they had left.

Planting his hands on his hips, Megalo Convoy directed his gaze to the massive skyscrapers that overshadowed the entire planet of Gigantion. Ever since Nova Prime had established this colony world thousands of years ago, the people of Gigantion had been hard at work, creating a giant city that covered the entire surface. Nova Prime had envisioned Gigantion serving as an all-encompassing hub for the space bridge network, where Transformers from all of the other colonies could come and interact with one another.

That had been the plan, at least. After Nova Prime and his crew vanished, his successor Nominus Prime had gradually diverted resources away from the Expansion project, and it had been all but abandoned by the time of his death. It was only after the First Great War, when Sentinel Prime had taken command, that the project was revitalized, albeit at a much more limited capacity (and a fixed amount of resources). And with the war that was currently being waged, it was no closer to completion now than it had been a millennium ago.

Still, they would keep on working. For all anyone knew, the war could end tomorrow and Cybertron would be ready to enter the Golden Age that had been promised so long ago. But Megalo Convoy knew better than to put his faith in Primes. He had learned his lesson long ago…

~5,000 years ago (Cycle 4315)

“Five hundred years ago, on this day, the once magnificent Crystal City was destroyed by the horrid monstrosity we know as Monstructor.”

All eyes were on Nominus Prime as he addressed the masses of Cybertron. It was the first time in a long time—perhaps since the departure of the Ark—that so many Cybertronians were gathered in a single place. Even those from the colony worlds, such as Caminus, Velocitron, and Gigantion had come to bear witness to this event, with the leaders of the invited colony worlds standing in a row behind the Prime as he delivered his speech.

“Crystal City was a historical and sacred landmark,” Nominus Prime went on, his blue and gold armor plating gleaming in the sunlight. “It was where the Primes of old came together and formed an alliance that would shape Cybertronian society as we know it today. Some even say that Prima himself was birthed from the very soil that Crystal City was built upon. The fact that it was desecrated by such wanton destruction is a tragedy that haunts my memory to this day.”

Standing among the other colony representatives, Megaloplex tried not to scoff. He knew a rehearsed speech when he heard one; nothing the Prime was saying came from the spark. He probably could not care less about what had befallen Crystal City. Otherwise, he would have given the speech the day after the incident rather than five hundred years later. The crowd seemed to be eating it up however, as they looked on with expressions of grief and sorrow.

“On that day, we lost a symbol,” Nominus went on. “It was not long after we lost our glorious leader Nova Prime as well. Since then, we have stagnated as a people, stuck in one place, never moving forward. But that changes today!”

The Prime’s expression brightened as he kicked on his leg thrusters and lifted up in the air, flying to a viewscreen that was now showing a bulky femme in silver armor plating. Behind her were six mechs with construction alternate modes, all bearing a uniform yellow color scheme. They stood on a mobile platform that was now being raised above the crowd, all seven of its occupants waving to the applause erupting from the audience.

“Under the guidance of Termagax of Kaon and her team, a new Crystal City shall be erected on top of where the old one stood. It shall signal a rebirth of our people, a rebirth for Cybertron, as we enter the Golden Age our glorious leader promised!”

The crowd erupted in cheers but it all became white noise to Megaloplex. He didn’t even bother paying attention to the rest of the Prime’s speech as he knew it was all fluff and grandstanding at this point. The prospect of a new Crystal City sounded promising, but in the last five hundred years Nominus Prime had yet to fulfill any of the promises he had made since he had assumed the mantle.

It was several hours after the ceremony, and after most of the crowd had dispersed, that Megaloplex managed to speak with Nominus one-on-one. The Prime was finishing a conversation with Termagax and he looked as if he was about ready to take off. When he noticed Megaloplex’s approach, his expression seemed to sour but he quickly masked it with a showy grin.

“Ah, Megaloplex! What a surprise! I, uh, I thought you had already departed with the rest of the representatives.”

“Aye, I simply wanted to wish you and Termagax good fortune in this project o’ yours,” Megaloplex said. He then narrowed his red optics as he affixed Nominus with a stern look. “And to see if you had given any thought yet to me own proposal.”

“Your own propo—? Ah.” Nominus cleared his vocal processor. “You’re referring to the Axiom Nexus project, I take it?”

“What else would it be? It is Nova Prime’s legacy, after all.”

“Right, right, of course it is. No doubt about that.” Nominus shifted uncomfortably, the wings on his back twitching. “It’s just that, you know, there are only so many resources we can spare at any given time, and it’s taken quite a while to gather the right amount for the Crystal City project. Something like Axiom Nexus is on a completely different scale.”

“One that I am sure we will move on to once Crystal City is a success, yes?” Termagax said pointedly. Megaloplex couldn’t help but smile; he always knew he shared a kindred spark with the lass.

“Oh, sure! No doubt, no doubt.” Nominus Prime made an exasperated sound before glancing furtively to his chronometer. “Well, would you look at the time! I’ve got at appointment back at the High Council Pavilions. Being a Prime is busy work, you know!”

Before either Megaloplex or Termagax could stop him, Nominus converted to his jet mode and took off, flying faster than Megaloplex had seen anyone fly before. The leader of Gigantion watched him go before letting out a sigh.

“Just about the answer I was expectin’.”

Termagax glanced up at him. “I take it you are not a fan of the current Prime?”

“I am not one to get into politics, lass, beyond my current station. I was simply hopin’ that perhaps we could finally pick up where Nova Prime had left off before he departed. But after five centuries, it truly feels as if we are simply going backwards rather than forward.”

“Rebuilding Crystal City is a step in the right direction though, is it not?”

“Aye, perhaps. But Crystal City stood long before Nova or Nominus came along. If anything, it represents more of a return to the status quo rather than a new change.”

“I can see what you mean,” Termagax murmured. “To be honest, a new Crystal City wasn’t my first idea, but the Prime told me that he needed a proof of concept from me and my team before he would go through with my original plan.”

“Oh? And pray tell would that be?”

Termagax shifted her feet, suddenly looking nervous from the attention he was giving her. “I… I call it the Winged Moon.” She raised her right arm and pressed a control panel near her wrist. A blue light emitted from her servo and displayed a small holographic image of a spherical object with panels extending from it. “It’s supposed to be a new satellite for Cybertron that will draw energy from nearby stars and distill it back into Cybertron in the form of energon.” 

Megaloplex’s optics went wide. “Well, now, that is quite the undertaking. That could solve Cybertron’s own energy crisis. Are you confident such a thing would work?”

“Well, Councilor Shockwave seems to think so, and I have his backing. He thinks that if Crystal City is a success, then enough of the other Councilors will join him in forming a majority, meaning the Prime will have to at least consider it. And I can’t imagine he would say no…”

“Aye, he would be a fool to do so. Time will tell if he is one or not.” Megaloplex beamed down at her. “Ye’ have a bright future ahead of you, lass. Ye’ would’ve made Nova Prime proud.”

Termagax grinned at that. “You think so? I had only just been forged when he left Cybertron. I had always wanted to meet him….”

“Well, perhaps someday he will finally return and knock some sense into ol’ Nominus. And I guarantee you he would have a place for you in his inner circle. You would be right up there with the likes of ol’ Jhiaxus.”

“You honor me with your words, Megaloplex. You have no idea how please I am to hear you say them.”

Megaloplex chuckled. “Aye, just don’t let it get to your head, lass. Wouldn’t want to turn out like ol’ Nominus now, would you?”

Termagax laughed. “I don’t think anyone would.”

Now

“Chief? Er, Chief?”

Megalo Convoy stirred out of his memory and cast his gaze down… all the way down to the Mini-Con standing at his feet. The small gray and blue bot was standing there with a concerned expression on his face.

“Eh? Oi, my apologies, lad.” The giant leader sighed. “Ye’ve caught me daydreamin’ again. What is it?”

Drillbit cocked his head to the side, studying his leader with a skeptical look. He then said, “Safeguard just radioed me. She says that there’s something you need to check out.”

“Ah, very well. Tell her I’ll be on my way.”

As Drillbit returned to his duties, Megalo Convoy converted into his alternate mode - a treaded vehicle armed with a scoop and giant saw - and started to roll in the direction of the Security Base. Because of his large size, Megalo was not exactly any quicker in his vehicle mode than he was in his robot mode, but it was fastest means of transportation he had at his disposal. He couldn’t help but envy some of the Mini-Cons that had come to call Gigantion home, such as Safeguard herself and the young trio she often hung around with. 

It was perhaps because of his slow journey that Megalo Convoy found himself daydreaming again, his mind reaching back into the depths of his memory banks once more…

600 years ago (Cycle 8714)

“Ye’ are asking to much of me, lad. I am no soldier.”

The young Autobot Optronix stood in Megaloplex’s shadow, his arms folded over his red and black chest as he affixed the Gigantion leader with a defiant stare.

“I am not asking you to be a soldier. I am asking you to be a defender.”

Megaloplex tilted his head, returning Optronix’s stare with a skeptical look. “And you are convinced these… Destructons, you call ‘em? You think they’re comin’ for Cybertron and her worlds?”

“They have already laid waste to planets within the Vestial Imperium and the Nebulon Republic. It won’t be long before they are encroaching on our territory.”

“Surely then this would be a job for the Elite Guard, no?”

“It is, and Sentinel Prime has already prepared Cybertron’s defenses. But it won’t be enough, especially not for the colony worlds. That’s why I’m coming to you, as I have the others.”

“Ye’ mean Nitro and the others have already agreed to this plan of yours?”

“Nitro, Atlas, pretty much everyone. I’ve even recruited some other bots to bolster our defenses.” Optronix waved a hand to the massive cityscape surrounding them. “Gigantion is too vital to lose to these destructive freaks. All of the work you and your people have done over the last millennia will be for naught if the Destructons make their way here.”

Megaloplex sniffed dismissively. “Aye, rather convenient that now ye care about our work when it is in danger, but not when things are at peace. Do you any idea how I’ve needed to pull screw and nail to get the funding and resources for this project? If any of the Primes since Nova have had their way, this project would have been abandoned ages ago.”

“Well, I can assure you that when I am Prime, Gigantion and the Axiom Nexus project will be my first priority—”

Megaloplex laughed bitterly. “When you are Prime, eh? I didn’t realize Sentinel had already picked out a successor.”

Optronix shifted awkwardly. “I, uh, misspoke. If I ever become Prime, then I will make sure Nova Prime’s vision is seen through to completion.”

“Hmph. I’ve heard those words before, lad. More times than I can count. I have yet to see anyone come through with their promises.”

“Well, in any case, there still needs to be a Gigantion left to finish if there is any hope of seeing those promises fulfilled.” The young Autobot extended a hand. “So are you with me or not?”

Megaloplex narrowed his optics as he looked down at the proffered hand. Surprising even himself, it did not take him long to give an answer.

Now

Megalo Convoy pulled himself out of the memory as he rolled into the command center for the security base. Like most interiors on Gigantion, the room was incredibly large and spacious to accommodate the native Gigantians and their massive size, which made the Mini-Cons that staffed it look even more comically small than they did in “normal” sized rooms like those on Cybertron.

Regardless of size, the Mini-Cons’ chief of security Safeguard maintained a commanding presence as she hovered across the room, checking in on others’ stations and making sure the Recon Team trio were not getting into any trouble. When Megalo Convoy rolled in and transformed to robot mode, the small white Mini-Con immediately switched her attention to him and flew over to hover in front of him.

“Chief, we’ve detected a strange anomaly at the edge of the system. It appears to be giving off energon signatures.”

“Aye, let’s give it a look then.” Megalo Convoy followed her to the primary console, which currently displayed a visualization of the Gigalonia system on the screen. Most of the planets besides Gigantion were either uninhabitable rocks or gas giants, and Megalo knew that there were only nine planets total within the system. But, as he studied the visuals on the screen, he saw that there were instead ten planets… and one of them was changing positions rapidly.

“Is it… mobile?” he asked.

“It appears so,” Safeguard replied. “It originally started out on the dark side of Gigalonia-9, but it’s already shifted position to intersect Gigalonia-3 and 2’s orbits. I’m not sure how it’s managing to do that.”

“And you say it’s givin’ off energon readings?”

“Yes. We’ve already tried making contract but no one is picking up. Not a good sign, if you ask me.”

“Aye, I’d be inclined to agree.” He rubbed his chin as he continued to study the screen. “Have you prepared any of our defenses?”

“I’ve already raised the silent alarm. If it comes within our orbit and still does not answer any of our calls, then will be the time to panic.”

“Oi, there will be no panicking. We will stand strong and defend our world from whatever they throw at us. We are giants, big or small.”

An alert chimed at the console. Before their optics, the visuals on the screen changed.

“It’s moving within our orbit,” Safeguard murmured. “Now might be the time to—”

Without warning, the lights in the room suddenly went out. At the same time, the ground beneath their feet began to tremble violently. Several Mini-Con staffers were knocked off their feet and even Megalo Convoy had difficulty maintaining his balance. He shifted his arms and legs into their laborer configuration, using their extra bulk to ground himself as he stomped towards the door. Safeguard flew behind him, drawing a pair of tiny swords.

Upon stepping outside, Megalo Convoy found the city plagued in darkness, with not a single star in sight—not even the planet’s own sun. Instead, the surface of an entire planet encompassed the sky, looming over the city like the head of a massive giant. The mysterious planet appeared to be entirely metallic, with twin gold bands stretching around the surface to create a large X-shaped symbol.

As citizens, both large and small, started to panic around him, Megalo Convoy saw two vehicles—a teal drill tank and an orange mixer—drive up to him. Both converted to robot mode, taking on the forms of his two primary advisers Moledive and Blender. Their respective Mini-Con partners sat on their shoulders.

Moledive waved a giant arm in the direction of the looming X Planet. “Care to explain this, ‘chief?’”

Megalo Convoy frowned. “Aye, wish I could, lad. But—”

“Don’t ‘lad’ me! How in the Pit are we in any way, shape or form prepared to handle something like… this?!”

“Relax, Moledive,” said Blender. “Stripmine tells me that the defenses have already been raised. We’ll handle this, just like we did the Destructons.”

“Will we? Because back then, we at least had Cybertron on our side.” Moledive gestured widely around them. “Do you see any Autobots anywhere? Because I sure don’t!”

“I do.” Megalo Convoy patted the Autobot insignia on his shoulder. “We are all Autobots here, Moledive.”

Moledive narrowed his optics. “You might be, but I’d hardly say we all are. I never took on the Autobrand… and I’m starting to think I had the right idea.”

“Oi, can this wait?” Blender said. “Because I think we have bigger problems at hand.”

He pointed to the sky and Megalo Convoy followed his gaze back towards the sky. A massive cloud had suddenly formed and was quickly descending towards the surface. As it drew closer, Megalo Convoy realized it was no ordinary cloud made of particles or anything of the sort.

It was a swarm. A swarm comprised of hundreds upon thousands of identical silver and gold bots, armed with blades and arm-mounted cannons. Their “faces” were nothing more than a featureless blue visor, crowned by a horned crest that called to mind images and caricatures of the fabled Chaos-Bringer.

Moledive was right; this was different from the Destructon conflict. But that didn’t mean they were going to just give up.

This was their city.

Drawing his massive saw-blade axe, Megalo Convoy adjusted it into its battle position. “Take arms, lads. It’s time to address these big problems… with even bigger solutions!”

*  *  *

“I will give credit where it is due, Jhiaxus. This plan of yours just may very well pay off.”

Jhiaxus allowed himself a smile as he watched the hordes of Terrorbots pour out of Planet X’s factories and descend upon the unsuspecting populace of Gigantion. The people of Gigantion may have been large in size, but they were few in number, which made their world ideal to conquer in such a fashion.

“To give credit of my own,” Jhiaxus said, “I owe this all to Liege Maximo. He had told me of his secret colony world shortly before his exile, and it was a secret I had kept even from Nova Prime. When we established the Nega-Cores, I remembered his plans for an expansive hub connecting Cybertron and all her territories together. I figured it would only make sense to bring that dream to fruition in order to accelerate the Chaos-Bringer’s liberation.”

“Indeed.” Galvatron’s holographic form shimmered beside Jhiaxus as it moved and cast its gaze in his direction. “And this body of yours… you called it a proxy?”

“For lack of a better term.” Jhiaxus raised his right arm, admiring its pearly white sheen, covered in wires that curled up to his shoulder and around his torso. “Liege Maximo called it the next step of our race’s evolution. It does not require a spark or laser core to function—simply pure energy. The Second Generation, he called it.”

“Hmph. And I take it these… Terrorbots are also part of this ‘Second Generation’?”

“These specific ones, yes. He took inspiration from the mindless drones that obeyed our former enslavers during the Age of Wrath and perfected the concept. These Noisemaze-types may not be triple changers like their Overcharge precursors, but they are even more versatile.”

“We shall see.” Galvatron folded his arms. “This will be their ultimate test. Nothing short of complete success will impress me.”

Jhiaxus grinned. “Not to worry, my lord. I will provide you with nothing but.”

*  *  * 

“There’s too many of them! We’re being overwhelmed—!”

“Stand tall, Moledive!” Megalo Convoy cried as he brought his giant axe down onto three of the silver drones, crushing all of them at once. “We shall defend our city or die trying! Surrender is not an option!”

“Maybe so.” Moledive grabbed one of the drones with his clawed arm and drove a drill into its cranium with the other. “But death might be one.”

“Ever the morale booster, aren’t you, Moledive?” Blender lifted his right arm, which terminated in a giant mixing drum, and it split down the middle, revealing a cannon. He fired a blast at an oncoming wave of invaders and decimated their numbers, although it did little to stall the rest of the swarm. The remaining drones bypassed him and attempted to grab Stripmine off his shoulder only for another blast from his cannon to stop them.

“We should do something for the Mini-Cons though,” Blender then said. “Shall we send them to the escape pods?”

“Aye, that be a good idea, lad.” Megalo Convoy raised a hand to his helm. “Safeguard! If you can read me, get yerself and the other little ones to the pods! Get clear of here as quickly as ye’ can!”

“Are you sure, chief? I don’t want to abandon—”

“Ye’ won’t be abandoning us, lass, just saving yerselves. We’ll hold them off as long as we can.”

“Very well, sir. I’ll see to it.”

Megalo Convoy allowed himself to smile. “That’s good to hear.” He then turned to Moledive and Blender and raised his arm to the sky. “Keep fightin’, lads! They will not take us down so easily! For Gigantion!”

*  *  *

“Oh, sweet Primus, I never thought this day would come! I knew we were at war, but I never thought it’d come to Gigantion!”

“Relax, Jolt.” Safeguard placed a hand on the red Mini-Con’s shoulder. “I understand this is hard for you and your brothers to process. Just get yourselves into one of the pods; I’ll make sure you have a safe launch.”

“Where are we even going to go?” asked Six-Speed. “Cybertron’s too dangerous and I hear the Decepticons are striking at all sorts of worlds in the Commonwealth and beyond!”

“I have the pods primed to take you to an uninhabited system that’s remote and safe. From there you can send out a distress signal and one of the routine Autobot patrols will likely pick you up.”

“And if the ‘Cons find us instead?” asked Reverb.

Safeguard sighed. “Don’t think about that. Please, just go. We don’t have much time.”

There was a loud thundering sound from outside, which gave Jolt and his brothers all the signs they needed. After giving a heartfelt farewell to Safeguard, Jolt led the other two towards one of the remaining pods. Some of the others had already taken off, including one carrying Long Arm and his brothers. Safeguard hadn’t had time to prep that one with a predetermined location; she only hoped that trio ended up somewhere safe. 

After seeing to the rest of the pods, Safeguard turned her attention to the last one remaining. Drillbit, Stripmine, and Heavyload were already loading themselves into the pod. As Drillbit raised a hand to lower the hatch, he caught Safeguard’s eye and frowned.

“I’m sorry, Safeguard, but…”

“There’s only room for three. I know.” She waved a hand. “Just get out of here. Now.”

“Maybe I can stay behind. Convoy might—”

“No. I made peace with my fate long ago. Now get out of here before—”

A ripping sound came from above as one of the silver drones began to tear through the roof of the launch bay. Before Drillbit could close the hatch to the pod, the Terrorbot grabbed the small vessel and pulled it free from its launch pad, reaching in to grab the Mini-Cons within.

“No!” Safeguard jumped up into the air and converted into her spacecraft mode, priming the two cannons that were mounted at her bow. “Let go of them, you freak!”

She fired and struck the drone in the hand. It dropped the pod and it crashed to the ground, causing its three occupants to fall out. The Terrorbot then set its sights on Safeguard and it raised its right arm, charging up the cannon mounted atop it.

Safeguard stared straight down the barrel, bracing herself for the end…

Just as she thought darkness was about to envelop her, there was a bright light as a large figure suddenly materialized behind the Terrorbot. It drove a sword straight into the drone’s back, the sparkling blue tip of its blade jutting out from the machine’s chest. The mysterious mech then pulled out the blade and let the Terrorbot’s body fall lifelessly to the ground.

Switching back to her robot mode, Safeguard got a good look at her savior. He was not quite as large as Megalo Convoy or any of the other Gigantians, being about the standard size of a Cybertronian. His armor plating was white and dark red, with specks of gold here and there. His dull blue metal of his face looked worn with age, and his red optics had a dim tint to them.

Whoever this bot was, he was old. Incredibly old. Perhaps even as old as the stars themselves.

As he lowered his sword, the ancient bot held up a small object, which almost looked like a key of some kind. It was shaped like a gear, with archaic symbols and runes printed onto it. The pistons in the mech’s arm groaned as he moved it, as if he had not moved in quite some time. With that movement, he inserted the key into a slot within his chest.

Then, instead of darkness, Safeguard found herself enveloped by light.

*  *  *

Jhiaxus screamed as the whole world was torn away from him.

He was back on Gorlam Prime, back in his old, inferior body. He was laying prone on the ground, surrounded by Galvatron—in his physical form—and the other Heralds of Unicron.

Galvatron bent down, grabbed Jhiaxus by the wing, and pulled him back up, bringing him close to his scowling face.

“What happened?” the leader of the Heralds demanded.

“I… I don’t know!” Jhiaxus exclaimed. “S-something severed the connection!”

“Severed the connection? What the blazes does that mean?”

“It means I can no longer reach my proxy body on Planet X. I… I have no idea what happened to it—”

Growling, Galvatron threw Jhiaxus back onto the ground before whirling on his lieutenant Scourge.

“Take your Sweeps to the Gigalonia system and find out what happened!”

Scourge frowned. “But, my lord, we must maintain our cover here or else—”

“Our cover means nothing if Planet X and Jhiaxus’s little army are unaccounted for in Autobot space! Now do as I command!”

Recognizing there was no room for him to argue, Scourge summoned three of his Sweeps and the four of them converted into their identical spacecraft modes, taking off into the sky.

*  *  *

“What… what did you do?”

Safeguard marveled at the sight that had been presented to her outside. The skies were clear, the mysterious planet of the invaders having seemingly vanished. The only drones now were the ones that had already been deactivated, their bodies littering the ground. Megalo Convoy and the other Gigantians clearly looked confused as they tried to process what had just happened.

The ancient robot said nothing at first as he removed the key from his chest slot. He somehow looked even more tired and old than he did before, something Safeguard did not think was possible. When he finally spoke, his vocal processor crackled as if it had not been used in eons.

“I broke my vow in order to save your world from catastrophe.”

“Vow?” Safeguard asked. “What do you mean?”

The ancient bot continued speaking with answering her question. “I have shifted your world into chronal phase. To the outside observer, it can no longer be seen or touched, shielding it from further harm.”

Safeguard shook her head. “I… I don’t understand. Are you saying we’re invisible?”

“For lack of a better term, yes. It was not something I did lightly, but it was the only way to prevent the Chaos-Bringer’s return. All other possible futures that I observed showed only Armageddon.”

“The Chaos-Bringer…?” Safeguard stared up at the old bot as if he had gone senile. “Are… are you saying he’s real? That he’s not just some myth or…?”

The ancient robot sighed heavily. “I have already said too much. I cannot in good conscience allow you to return to your people with the knowledge you now carry… including that of my existence.”

“So, what, you’re going to kill me?”

He looked down at her with a curious expression. “No,” he said, as if the thought had never crossed his mind. “I am going to bring you with me, to my realm, where you will be joined by my other… companions.”

“Your realm? I’m sorry but, what exactly kind of mech are you?”

She could have sworn she saw the tiniest hint of a smile cross his face. But when she blinked, it was gone.

“I am the kind of mech that the world has not seen in quite some time,” he said. “And if you ask me, there is good reason for that.”

He then raised his sword and sliced it through the air, cutting through reality to open a portal before Safeguard’s bewildered eyes.

“My name is Vector Prime. I am the guardian of time and space, keeper of the past, and protector of the future. And if you come with me, you will be able to help me prevent further possible catastrophes from happening.”

He extended an arm towards her.

“So, then, are you with me?”

Surprising even herself, it did not take long for her to answer.

Postscript

“There’s nothing here.”

“I can see that,” Scourge snapped back at one of the Sweeps. The four of them hovered in space, facing the orbital position which Gigantion was supposed to occupy, but there was no sign of it. Nor was there any sign of Planet X. It was as if both planets had been shunted out of reality.

The only sign of the struggle that had taken place here was a lone Noisemaze-type Terrorbot floating in the void of space. It was different from the others, having a black and silver color scheme rather than silver and gold, its visor tinted orange rather than blue.

One of the Sweeps reached out to touch the lone Noisemaze only for the Terrorbot to abruptly shift and move. Before Scourge’s very optics, the Noisemaze’s body began to shift and convert… but what it morphed into was not a vehicular alternate mode, but rather a completely different robot mode.

Now, instead of a sleek black spacecraft, the Terrorbot now looked as if it transformed into a purple and yellow motorcycle. A few seconds later, it morphed back into its original state.

As the Sweeps all exchanged confused looks with themselves, Scourge found himself smiling at this newfound discovery.

“Well, then,” he murmured to himself. “Perhaps there is something to be salvaged from this operation after all.”  

Transformers Regenerated: Beyond Imagination V, Chapter One

ONE: WE INTERRUPT THIS BROADCAST 

Circuit ran as fast as his legs could take him, cursing himself the entire time.

Of all the times to try out enriched nucleon…

“Hurry up, Circuit! We can’t miss this!”

Swearing aloud, Circuit willed his motors to work themselves faster. The pearly white corridor of the Exitus seemed to stretch out longer and longer as he made his way to the hangar bay, where Longtooth in his gray and red transport mode was already waiting. This was supposed to be his big break, but he just had to screw it up. Ever since he had changed his function from trader to journalist, he had missed out on a number of big scoops, from the launch of the Lost Light to the terror campaign of the Grand Architect. And while he was not the first to cover the Council of Worlds’ initiative to restore the colony worlds from the Grand Architect’s attacks, he was going to be the first to get a chance to interview the one and only Thunderclash, one of the most famous Autobots after Optimus Prime himself. He could think of no better opportunity for himself.

And he just had to screw it up by locking up his transformation cog by filling up his fuel tank with enriched nucleon.

As Circuit finally closed the distance between him and the hangar, Longtooth converted to his robot mode and deployed his built-in camera.

“He’s already started speaking. Come on, let’s go.”

Readying his microphone, Circuit followed his camerabot into the crowd of mechs that had gathered at the edge of the hangar, right where the doors were. Standing before them, in his sparkling white and red armor, was Thunderclash, captain of the Exitus and hero of the Autobot Guard. His golden face beamed as he graced his audience with his booming yet sonorous voice.

“Nearly a year ago, the roads of Velocitron were ravaged by the destructive forces of the Grand Architect in their efforts to siphon it of its unique energon ore. The process of reconstruction has been a long and arduous one, but today we are here to bring that process to a conclusion!”

Cheers rang out from the crowd. Circuit pushed his way through the sea of bots as he attempted to make his way to get to the front of the audience. He thanked the Primes that Longtooth was taller than him and thus was able to still get footage of Thunderclash as they made their way towards him.

With a large red hand, Thunderclash gestured to a large yellow femme standing amongst the crowd. “Treadbolt here has brought the finest construction engineers from Cybertron and Caminus to help restore the streets of Speedia so that the Velocitronians may race again!”

Applause broke out and Circuit could have sworn he saw Treadbolt’s steel blue faceplate shift pigmentation. He disregarded it as he finally made his way to the front, bumping into a smaller black and white Camien bot as he did so.

“Watch it,” the Camien hissed at him.

Circuit did not offer any sort of apology as he looked up at Thunderclash, microphone at the ready. “Thunderclash, sir, if you don’t mind me asking—”

“While Treadbolt and her engineers are hard at work,” Thunderclash went on, as if no one had spoken to him, I will be leading an entourage to keep the people of Velocitron entertained while they wait for the chance to race again! Rather than watching the roads, people will be watching the skies as we perform all sorts of aerial stunts and maneuvers never seen before! All coordinated by none other than Aileron here!”

More applause broke out and Circuit realized it was directed at the black femme he had just brushed past. He slowly looked over at Aileron as she planted her hands on her hips and gave him a glare before beaming proudly at Thunderclash.

Clearing his vocal processor, Circuit tried to refocus himself as he turned back to Thunderclash. “Excuse me, captain, but I would like to ask you a few—”

“Now then, allow me to introduce you to the rest of our stars!” Thunderclash pointed to a blue and red mech near the front. “Hot Shot!”

Circuit leaned over to Longtooth and spoke to his camerabot on a frequency that only they could hear, to tune out the noise of the crowd. “You said the script for the speech ended at ‘may race again.’”

Longtooth shrugged sheepishly. “Thunderclash likes to improvise sometimes. I guess today is one of those times.”

“Minerva!”

Circuit sighed. “How much longer is he gonna go on…?”

“Ricochet!”

“Huh.” Longtooth tapped the side of his head. “That’s odd. I thought Ricochet was—”

“Circuit!”

Circuit blinked at the sound of his own name. He dared not move as the crowd suddenly went dead quiet. Even Thunderclash’s grin became a frown as he looked around.

“Circuit?”

Circuit slowly looked up at him and raised a finger. “Um, my name is Circuit, sir, but I believe uh—”

“Ah, excellent! Give it up for Circuit, everyone!”

“But, sir, I don’t think…” Anything Circuit was going to say was drowned out by the deafening applause. Behind Thunderclash, the hangar bay door began to open and Circuit’s metal exterior was greeted with the cold, roaring winds of Velocitron’s sky. As everyone braced themselves against the breeze, Thunderclash raised his voice so that he could still be heard.

“Team, get into position! It’s time for the show!”

“The show?! What show—ahh!” Circuit yelped as he was pushed forward by Aileron. He looked down at the Camien, whom he swore had a smirk on her pink faceplate. “Is this some kind of joke? Longtooth, help me out here!”

His camerabot offered him no words of advice as he simply waved at him. “Have fun, I guess.”

“No, no! This is some kind of mistake! I’m just a journalist! I’m not—”

He lurched forward as Aileron attached some sort of rocket pack onto his back. He was then guided over to where Thunderclash and the rest of his entourage were standing at the edge of the hangar.

“On the countdown to one!” Thunderclash held up three fingers. “Three!”

Hot Shot nudged Circuit with his elbow. “You ready to roll, buddy?”

“Two!”

Circuit could only stare ahead. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“One!”

With a gentle shove from Aileron, Circuit fell from the edge of the hangar and plummeted straight towards the ground below.

*  *  *

“They’ve started their broadcast. Are we rolling?”

“We better be.” In the shadows of a dark room, a pair of hands grabbed the sides of a camera and forced it to focus on a monstrous face. “We are rolling, aren’t we, Zoom Out?”

“Y-yes, Octopunch, sir,” a meek voice squeaked out.

“Heh. Sir. I like the sound of that.”

“Shut up. Just because you’re the spokesbot doesn’t mean you’re in charge.”

“It does now, Submarauder. Now be quiet.” Octopunch stepped back so that he was in frame, showing off his white and teal armored body. Purple tendrils, almost organic in nature, sprouted from his back, surrounding his diver-like helmet. “Greetings, Cybertron. We interrupt this broadcast with an important message: You are being deceived.”

“That motto is soooo outdated—”

“Submarauder, I swear to Primus I’m going to gut you.” Octopunch cleared his vocal processor. “As you may know, the Autobots whom you have entrusted with guidance and leadership have undertaken the remarkable endeavor of repairing their shattered worlds after the devastation they have suffered nearly a stellar cycle ago. A truly noble endeavor… and naive.

“Ask yourselves this, Cybertron: is it worth all of the time and resources to restore these colonies? Are those resources not better saved for our own home planet? Ask yourselves, what have these colonies done for us? What have they contributed to our society?”

Octopunch held up a disk-shaped object, small enough to fit into the palm of his hand. He pressed a button and the hologram of a spherical planet appeared from its projector. Tinted red, it was laced with interconnecting roads that covered the entire surface.

“Take Velocitron, for instance. Ever been to the Ibex Cup? Imagine that but using it as the backbone of your society. Velocitron chooses its leader by determining whoever is the fastest. No consideration of political acumen or charisma; no, it is only speed that determines the fate of an entire planet. Does that sound like a planet that can make a worthwhile contribution to the Cybertronian Commonwealth?”

Octopunch put away the hologram and walked to the right side of the screen. The camera followed him, revealing the sight of a gold-plated mech chained up to a wall, looking battered and beaten. Octopunch gestured to the golden bot as if he was presenting an exhibit at a museum.

“How about we ask someone native to the world, hm? What did you say your name was, again, kind sir? Electrons, wasn’t it?”

The gold bot seemed to barely have enough energy to lift up his head, his optics dim. “Electro….”

“Hmm. I liked mine better.” Octopunch placed a finger underneath Electro’s chin to lift up the mech’s drooping head, forcing him to look into the circular visor of his helmet. “Tell me, Electrons, who is the current leader of Velocitron?”

Electro groaned as he struggled to speak. “O-Override….” 

“Uh-huh. And how was she chosen to be your planet’s leader?”

“She—she won the Speedia 500….”

“Indeed she did! And by no other merit was she chosen to become the leader of an entire planet.” Octopunch stepped away from Electro, turning back to face the camera. “And that is only an example of the flawed systems that plague the Autobots’ commonwealth. The Autobots themselves choose their leader based on affinity with a bauble tied to myths that have since been debunked. The beasts of Animatron continue to fight amongst themselves even after their planet has been wiped out. The Devisiens are stagnant. The Mini-Cons are scattered and thought extinct. 

“Clearly there can only be one solution to address this issue. The Autobots’ futile attempts at establishing order have clearly failed, which can only leave the alternative: chaos.”

Octopunch extended a hand and another Cybertronian—a gray and maroon mech with a head resembling that of a skeletal ram—placed a vial in his palm. Opening the vial, Octopunch stepped over to Electro and held it over the golden bot.

“It has long been theorized that gold armor is the most vulnerable to corrosive elements. Let us test that, shall we?”

Electro’s stuttered protests quickly turned into screams as droplets of liquid fell from the vial and onto his gold armor plating. The metal instantly began to sizzle as it slowly broke apart, golden chips falling to the ground. Octopunch proceeded to dump the rest of the vial’s contents onto Electro before tossing it aside and stepping back up to the camera. 

“That is the same corrosion that awaits our so-called ‘Golden Age.’ Rather then wait for the chaos that is to come, why not become the chaos? Become the change that you want to be.”

He held up his hands together, creating a vague “M” shape.

“We are Mayhem. And so are you.”

*  *  *

“Circuit. Hey, Circuit. You okay, buddy?”

Circuit groaned as his visual sensors switched back online and recalibrated themselves. His optics then focused on the frowning faces hovering over him, which he recognized as belonging to Hot Shot and Minerva.

“You kind of crashed out up there,” Hot Shot said. “Minerva thinks you went into stasis lock. Fortunately Aileron had emergency control over all of the rocket packs in case of that happening. Most of us aren’t exactly adept for flying, after all.”

“You don’t say?” Circuit snapped, sitting up even as Minerva tried to gently coax him back down. “I wasn’t even supposed to be here! I’m just a journalist trying to get the scoop on this whole thing! I wasn’t supposed to skydive with you!”

Hot Shot smiled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, that’s what I kinda figured. I’ve met the Circuit who was supposed to show up and she looks nothing like you. Plus, she’s a she, so…” He coughed awkwardly. “Sorry about that.”

Circuit sighed as he placed a hand to his head. “So, where is Thunderclash? And the others, for that matter?”

“Scanning the area,” Minerva explained. “We apparently experienced some kind of broadcast interruption. They’re looking to see where the signal could have come from.”

“Oh, yeah? I might be able to help with that.” Circuit pushed himself up to his feet, only to immediately lose his balance. Both Hot Shot and Minerva rushed to help him up. “Well, Longtooth might be able to, anyway. Let me try to hail him and….”

As he spoke, Circuit detected a ping from his comm. At first, he thought it was from Longtooth, but a quick read of the ID immediately indicated otherwise. As his logic processors struggled to make sense of what was happening, his distress was apparently obvious to Hot Shot and Minerva, as they once again regarded him with concern.

“What’s up?” Hot Shot asked.

“It’s…” Circuit shook his head. “Look, this might be a dumb question, but did you guys ever read Wreckers: Declassified?”

“You mean Fisitron’s series? Hell yeah, I did!” Hot Shot grinned at first before adopting a more solemn look. “Shame about what happened to him, though. That last entry he sent… when he died… that was probably the most harrowing thing I’ve ever read.”

Circuit slowly nodded. “Right. So, there’s another new entry.”

Hot Shot’s optics widened. “What?! But Fisitron—Ironfist—he’s supposed to be—”

“Dead, I know. Which probably explains the title of this datalog.”

Minerva frowned. “And what is that?”

“The dead come home.”

Hot Shot scoffed. “Yeah, that’s not ominous at all. Are we sure it’s not another hacking incident?”

Before anyone could answer him, the ground shook as an explosion went off in the distance. The three bots looked in the direction of where Velocitron’s roads were being rebuilt, and saw smoke billowing up into the sky.

“Whatever it means,” Minerva said, “I doubt it’s anything good.”

*  *  *

“Aileron! Get me a visual scan of the area and transmit a distress signal to the Exitus! Ricochet, stay close with me!”

Thunderclash drove across the rough terrain of Velocitron’s surface as he made his way to where the roads of Delta were under reconstruction. Up ahead, he could see a number of Velocitronians laying on the ground, some still functioning, others very much not so. He kicked on his speed boosters and sped ahead towards the scene, with Ricochet struggling to keep up.

As he closed in on the scene, Thunderclash transformed to robot mode and raised a hand to his comm. “Minerva, I need you over here! We’ve got a lot of wounded!” His optics then fell on a purple-and-black motorcycle femme, who was attending to an injured mech. “You, there! Do you know what just happened?”

“No, sir,” the femme replied. “It… it just happened out of nowhere. I think… I think the explosion came from the capitol building.”

Thunderclash looked over and saw that, indeed, the capitol building of Delta was ablaze, with a pillar of smoke rising from it into the sky. Pushing through the crowd of spectators, Thunderclash rushed towards the building.

“Everyone get back! Evacuate the area, immediately!”

“Are you crazy?!” exclaimed a member of the crowd. “Are you seriously going in there?!”

“Someone has to, and I’d rather it be me than you!” Thunderclash replied. “Now get back! I’ve got it handled!”

Transforming back to his truck mode, he accelerated towards the burning capitol. Upon reaching a gaping entrance that had been blown open in the wall, he rolled back into his robot mode and rushed in, pushing through smoke and stepping over deactivated bots littering the floor.

As he cleared his optical sensors, he spotted the body of Velocitron’s leader Override laying sprawled over a console. He rushed over to her and rolled her onto her back; to his relief, her optical sensors flickered back to life and she stared up at him with a dazed expression.

“T-Thunderclash?” she started to say.

“Override. What happened?”

“I… there was this mech. He walked in here with something strapped to his chest. He… he activated it before anyone could stop him….”

“A suicide bomber.” Thunderclash grimaced. “Do you remember what he looked like? Or what he said?”

“No… it wasn’t anyone I recognized, and I don’t recall him saying anything.” Rubbing her helm, Override pushed herself back onto her feet. “We can worry about the cause later. We need to help these bots.”

Thunderclash didn’t stop her as she rushed over to one of the fallen mechs. As he surveyed the scene around him, Ricochet came rushing into the room behind him, nearly tripping over one of the fallen bodies.

“Is, uh, everything all good here?” The black and white Autobot visibly winced at the senselessness of that question. “What exactly happened?”

“We’ll figure that out after we’ve helped the injured,” Thunderclash replied. “After that, we’ll convene and try to put the puzzle pieces together.”

“Do you think it has anything to do with that interrupted broadcast?”

“To be honest with you, Ricochet? I would be very surprised if it wasn’t….”

*  *  *

“It’s done. The message has been sent.”

“I still think we should have attacked them directly. Some of those guys don’t even look like fighters.”

“And that I why I am the brains of this operation and not you, Skullgrin. Striking now will only ruin our cause. We need to strike at the sparks of the people. Get them to rise up against the Autobots. Only then will we be able to succeed where those before us failed.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Skullgrin poked the motionless form of Electro, whose once bright gold plating was now coated in rust. “What do we do with this guy then? I think he’s still functioning, if barely….”

“Let them find him. Let him spread the word of what we’ve done to him. It will sow distrust. Uncertainty. Paranoia.”

Submarauder made an exasperated sound. “Enough with the big game talks, Octopunch. What’s our next step?”

“We have an appointment on Earth to meet. The natives of that world are already swinging on the pendulum of trust and mistrust towards the Autobots. It will be ripe for what we have in store.”

“For spark’s sake, Octo’, stop acting as if you’re the one calling the shots here. We all know you’re not.”

Octopunch whirled on Submarauder and jabbed a finger into his chest. “I was left in command of this specific operation and so you will respect my authority! Is that understood?”

Submarauder scowled at the other Decepticon before shrugging. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Good. Skullgrin, ready our transport. Our next destination awaits.”

TOTAL MAYHEM

Batman: More than Meets the Eye - "Down the Rabbit Hole"

And now for something completely different.

These stories will take place in the same world as Transformers Regenerated, and will even directly tie-in or crossover with characters from those stories... as will be the case here.

DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE

Gotham City, 2009

It was supposed to be a straightforward case.

Last night, a man named Jervis Tetch had been spotted leading a young, blonde-haired woman into his apartment. That fact alone was already cause enough for concern, as Tetch was supposed to be on house arrest after he had been released from prison for good behavior. But it was the very nature of the crime that had gotten him imprisoned in the first place that made the situation even more concerning.

Tetch had been a scientist employed by Wayne Enterprises, specializing in advanced technology. At some point he had gotten a bit too interested in mind control technology and had attempted to use one of his inventions on a coworker he had been infatuated with. Said coworker, a woman named Alice Pleasance, just so happened to bear a striking resemblance to the titular character from Alice in Wonderland, a book that Tetch had always been obsessed with. While Alice Pleasance had long since moved away from Gotham after the incident, the fact that Tetch had been seen with another young blonde woman indicated that he had yet to overcome his obsession.

As it stood, it should have been a straightforward case. The police had surrounded Tetch’s apartment and, after failing to make contact, sent a team of officers to break into the apartment and extract Tetch and his victim.

Two hours had passed and no one had emerged from the building. All radios were silent.

That was when the signal lit up in the sky.

Nothing in Gotham was every straightforward.

Batman sat perched on the ledge of a building opposite of Tetch’s apartment. Down below, the police had established a perimeter around the building and were positioned with guns drawn just outside the entrance, the lights of their cruisers bathing the dark streets in fluctuations of red and blue. The rest of the units had already been evacuated, leaving only Tetch and his victims—his new “Alice” and the officers that had already been sent inside.

Tetch’s own unit was supposed to be on the first floor of the building, situated somewhere to the left and back. He didn’t like having to go in through the front door, as that was where Tetch was likely expecting anyone to come through, but as he saw it it was his only option. There were no windows or any other access points that led to the unit.

He dropped down from his perch, his cape flaying out as he glided gracefully to the ground. Some of the officers reacted with startled or wary expressions, but not their captain. Batman had been operating in Gotham for long enough that Jim Gordon no longer had any reaction to his presence; after all, he had been the one who had sent the signal in the first place.

As Batman slowly approached the door to the apartment, Gordon filled him in on the details that he already knew about. He took the information in stride, not telling Gordon that he already knew everything about the situation, because then Gordon would have asked him where he had gotten the information and he would not have an answer for him.

Because he himself was not sure.

As he had been on the way to the Bat-Signal, he had picked up a transmission on the communicator built into his suit. The only person who was supposed to have access to his channel was Alfred, and yet the voice on the other end did not sound like Alfred nor did it sound like any of his regular foes. The voice was clearly being filtered through some sort of modulator, but he could tell that it belonged to someone young.

Very young.

The mystery informant had not given him any details beyond those concerning the situation with Jervis Tetch. All they had told him before ending the call was that “the nest” was “ready to take flight.”

Batman did not like the sound of that. But it was a problem he would have to solve later. Right now, the priority was Tetch.

After Gordon had finished speaking, Batman began to walk towards the front door. “Wait out here.”

Gordon frowned, his mustache creasing. “Are you sure you don’t need backup?”

“I never need backup.”

With that, he went through the door and headed straight for where Tetch’s apartment was supposed to be located. Upon reaching the apartment marked “149,” he found that the door was wide open, no doubt having been broken into by the officers Gordon had already sent in. Approaching the open unit with caution, he tapped a switch on the side of his mask to perform a quick scan for nearby heat signatures. When he picked up none, he carefully came around the bend of the door to look insider.

Other than the most basic of furniture—a bookcase, a table, a couple of chairs, a ratty old sofa, and an old television set—there was nothing of note to the apartment.

Besides, of course, the wide gaping hole in the middle of room.

From the looks of it, the hole appeared to be man-made, with a wooden hinged door of some kind hanging from it. Batman could imagine that the officers that had been sent in here had gone into the room, stepped onto the trap door, and fell down the hole when it opened—either from their weight or by Jervis Tetch remotely.

Peering into the hole, he saw that it wasn’t that far of a drop, meaning that the officers had likely survived the fall. The hole appeared to lead into some kind of basement, although from the mold growing on the walls and its otherwise decrepit appearance, it did not appear to have been touched in some time. At least not by the ones who owned the building….

Dropping down into the basement, Batman stood still for a moment to assess his surroundings. In the distance, he heard what sounded like music. Adjusting his mask’s audio receptors, he was able to distinguish some of the notes and quickly deduced—from its jovial tone and goofy vocals—that it was from a cartoon. Specifically, a very old cartoon released some time in 1951….

When Jervis Tetch had been evaluated by the doctors at Arkham, they had connected his obsession with Alice in Wonderland—both the books and the animated film—to his mother having exposed him to those stories when he was very young, right before she had died. Being shunned by both his abusive father and his peers at school, Tetch had constantly returned to those stories in search of some liberation from the real world. His desire for escapism eventually evolved into an obsession, and during high school it bled out into his social life as he became obsessed with a classmate who, like the protagonist of the books he read, had been a blonde girl named Alice. That Alice had rejected him, and since then he had been searching for his one true Alice… the one who would live with him in Wonderland for the rest of their lives.

It was Batman’s strong belief that Tetch should have remained locked up, whether it be at the prison or at Arkham, because he knew those kinds of obsessions did not go away overnight. But the judges had let him out on good behavior, oblivious to the fact that even the most unhinged and depraved person could hide their true nature quite well.

It was easy to put on a mask. He did it every single day.

Following the sound of the music, Batman slowly trudged through the damp floors of the basement. He tapped his mask again to scan for heat signatures… and immediately picked up one.

At the end of the room, emerging from around a corner, was a young woman—she couldn’t have been older than twenty—dressed in a white corset and blue coat. Her face was painted white, with black stripes lining her cheeks to represent whiskers. That, combined with the fake bunny ears arising from her blond hair and the stopwatch she was dangling in her hands, made it clear to Batman whom she was trying to present herself as.

“You’re gonna be late!” the White Rabbit impersonate cried out to him in a mocking tone. “Better hurry, better hurry, or you’re gonna be late!”

With that, she bounced back behind the corner, removing herself from Batman’s line of sight. Narrowing his eyes, the caped crusader removed a batarang from his utility belt and held it behind his back as he slowly approached the corner she had vanished behind.

Out of the darkness, a large fist grabbed him by the cape and pulled hard. Batman quickly turned himself around and threw the batarang into the face of the massive man that had attempted to ambush him. The thug was wearing a pinstriped shirt that was much too small for him, along with overalls that also appeared to be an ill-fit.

Tweedledee, he thought to himself. Which means Tweedledum is not far behind.

As if on cue, a second large man—dressed almost identically to the first—came out from where the White Rabbit had gone and lunged at Batman. The Dark Knight quickly dodged the attack, dropping down into a crouch as he rolled away. Tweedledum ended up crashing into Tweedledee, pushing his lookalike into the wall.

The two thugs did not take long to recover and they turned their sights back on the Bat. Tweedledee shoved his twin aside as he charged towards Batman, moving to swing his arm in a downward strike, as if he were bringing down a hammer. Batman avoided the move by jumping up and throwing himself at the thug, delivering a punch to the large man’s thick head. The force of the blow sent Tweedledee into a daze and he stumbled back into Tweedledum. His twin shoved him to the floor, letting him lay there unconscious.

As the remaining thug returned his attention to Batman, the Dark Knight ran forward and performed a flying kick. His booted foot made contact with the thug’s jaw and Tweedledum dropped like a rock, joining his lookalike on the floor.

Not waiting for either of them to get back up, Batman ran in the direction the White Rabbit had gone, following the sound of the music until it got louder and louder, to the point where it was almost blaring. As he rounded another corner, his eyes were instantly assailed with bright lights and colors, accompanied by the sound of uproarious laughter.

“Well, well, well!” a shrill voice cried out. “Look who finally decided to show up!”

After adjusting the lenses of his mask to withstand the sudden illumination, Batman received a full view of the unsettling sight before him. Laid out in the middle of an otherwise empty room was a long table covered with a bright pink cloth and decorated with a variety of tea cups and kettles. On either side of the table were the six officers that Gordon had sent in, tied to chairs with duct tape covering their mouths as they looked on in frozen horror. Bouncing around them was the White Rabbit as well as another woman dressed in an equally revealing costume only in brown, hearkening to the March Hare. At the very end of the table, dressed in baby blue and white, was the blonde girl that had been appropriated to serve as the Alice for this bizarre scene. And standing just over her shoulder, dressed in an old coat with an over-sized green top hat was the Mad Hatter himself: Jervis Tetch.

“I’m so glad you could join us, Batman!” Tetch offered a wide grin that showed off his buckteeth. With a gloved hand, he gestured to an empty chair at the other end of the table, opposite of Alice. “Please, make yourself comfortable!”

Batman remained where he stood as he affixed the Mad Hatter with a glare. “Let these people go, Jervis.”

“Jervis? Who’s Jervis?” The Hatter nervously adjusted his large hat, returning Batman’s glare with a crazed look. “I am the Mad Hatter and this is my tea party! Please, wouldn’t you join us for some tea?”

Batman narrowed his eyes as he shifted his attention to the rest of the Mad Hatter’s gang. Both the White Rabbit and the March Hare had similar crazed looks to their eyes, as did the motionless Alice and the tied-up officers. 

Recalling what it was that had gotten Jervis Tetch fired from Wayne Enterprises, that was when the detective put it together.

“You’re controlling their minds, aren’t you?”

“Control?” the Mad Hatter exclaimed. “What need is there for control?” He raised his teacup and waved it around, splashing its contents in every direction. “We just love tea down here, don’t we?”

Must be something in the tea, then. He’s had them drugged.

“Listen to me, Jervis,” Batman said aloud, firmly. “You need to let these people go. These are innocent people with lives, not characters for you to play pretend with in some deluded fantasy.”

“But we’re happy down here.” Jervis took a sip from his tea. “Aren’t we? We’re very happy. And soon, we all will be.”

As Batman tried to deduce the meaning behind those words, he heard his suit’s communicator intone as a voice crackled through.

“Batman?”

It was his mystery informant again. It had to have been, as Alfred would have never referred to him by that name.

“Batman, listen very carefully. Tetch has planted a bomb near your position.”

The Dark Knight frowned. “Where?”

“I don’t have an exact location, but it is within your proximity.”

Scowling, Batman turned back to the Mad Hatter. “Where is the bomb, Jervis?”

“Bomb? There is no bomb here.”

“People are going to die, Jervis. Tell me where it is!”

Standing next to the Mad Hatter, the White Rabbit let out a shrill laugh as she dangled her stopwatch. “Gonna be late! Gonna be late!”

With a snarl, Batman flung a batarang in her direction. It struck her hand, causing her to yelp and drop the stopwatch. Startled by the action, the Mad Hatter dropped his teacup and it shattered on the floor. At that moment, the March Hare drew a gun and began to fire a round at the Dark Knight.

Using his cape to shield himself momentarily, Batman readied another batarang and hurled it at the March Hare, knocking the weapon out of her hands. He then charged forward, throwing a punch into the White Rabbit’s face to knock her out before retrieving her stopwatch. As he flipped it open, he saw that rather then display an ordinary clock, it instead showed a timer that was counting down… and there was only a minute left.

Lunging forward, he grabbed Jervis by the collar of his coat and hoisted him up in the air.

“Where is the bomb?!” He shook the Mad Hatter violently. “Tell me!”

The Mad Hatter stared down at him, a wicked grin splitting across his face. “Don’t you want to come with us to Wonderland? I think you’ll like it there.”

Batman shook him again but the Mad Hatter only laughed, and laughed.

As the seconds ticked down in his head, his eyes glanced furtively around the room… until they landed on Alice. That was when he saw it.

There, nestled in her lap, just under the table—barely out sight—was the bomb.

Tossing the Mad Hatter aside, Batman lunged over to where Alice was seated and grabbed the bomb. As he attempted to pull it away, the young woman suddenly stirred and abruptly stood up. She lashed out with her right arm and the force of the blow was far stronger than he anticipated, especially from such a small person. As he fell to the floor, Alice rose from her chair, clutching the bomb in her hands. He glanced at the timer and saw that he only had seconds left.

He looked back up at Alice and saw that her eyes no longer had the crazed look to them. Instead, her gaze was hardened and full of malice, a far cry from the innocent and precocious fictional character she was dressed up as.

“Alice,” Batman said as he got back to his feet. “The bomb. Hand it over, quickly.”

Alice only stared at him as the bomb ticked away. Then, without removing her gaze from him, she pressed on either side of the bomb with both of her hands. Under the inhuman strength of her grip, the device caved in on itself before exploding—not in the manner it had been intended for but rather into its various component pieces.

Taken aback by this demonstration of strength, Batman did not have much time to react as Alice suddenly pushed past him and ran for the entrance he had come from. Upon seeing her run, the Mad Hatter stirred from where he lay and desperately reached out for her.

“No! My Alice! Please come back! Don’t leave me aga—”

“Enough.” Taking out a small blade, Batman used it to begin cutting through the ropes that tied the captured officers to their chairs. By now, the effects of Jervis’s mind-altering drugs were beginning to wear off on them as well as they began to blink rapidly, looking around in confusion.

Raising a hand to his radio, Batman said, “Captain, I have defeated Tetch and his compatriots. I’ve freed the woman and the officers, but the woman left before I could stop her. She might be on her way to run into you, so keep an eye out. And fair warning… she is a bit stronger than you would think.”

“Noted, Batman,” Gordon replied. “And thank you for your help.”

“Don’t mention it.” Batman paused as he looked over at the unconscious White Rabbit and March Hare. “Oh, and you might want to make sure you have something large enough to carry two brutes. It appears that Mr. Tetch has developed quite the criminal connection….”

*  *  *

She knew they were waiting outside to take her. To “rescue” her.

She would not let them. She would not let them take her back.

Her memory was fuzzy as she tried to piece together what had happened to her, how she had ended up here. When she closed her eyes, she saw flashes of what she could only assumed was her past. She saw faces, but they were indistinguishable. She remembered names and words, but could not place them into a coherent order.

The only thing she knew for certain was her name: Alice. It was the name she had given the strange man with the hat, which had apparently led to him capturing her for whatever twisted purposes he had in mind.

Was he with them, she wondered? The people who had kept her in a cage all that time ago? Was the man dressed like a bat related in anyway? She had no idea—and she had no intention of finding out.

After climbing out of the self-made manhole, she made her way through the apartment complex until she found a door that led out into an alleyway. Strobing red and blue lights told her where her potential captors would be, and she moved swiftly through the shadows to evade their line of sight. It was a feat that would have been impossible for a human… but she was no human.

Not really.

Before long, the sirens and the bat and the hatter were all a distant memory as Alice vanished into the shadows of Gotham.

*  *  *

“You never saw her?”

“Nope.” Jim Gordon slammed the door to the cruiser that Jervis Tetch had been put into. “She never turned up. My guess is she slipped out the door to the alley, even though my officers positioned there never saw her.”

Batman frowned as he looked back towards the apartment building. “There was definitely something off about her. She crushed the bomb with her bare hands—something even I couldn’t do.”

Gordon snorted. “Well, hopefully she doesn’t fall in with Falcone or any of the other crime families. Otherwise, we’re gonna have a bigger problem on our hands.”

“We should also look into how Jervis got his hands on his mind-altering drugs, as well as his hired help. I don’t think all of them were under his influence.”

“I can imagine some of them didn’t need much convincing.” Gordon brought out a cigar and lit it up with his lighter. “That White Rabbit woman, I’m pretty sure she’s Lorina Dodson. A socialite from Boston. I remember first hearing about her a couple of years ago from some tabloids; people were upset about her marrying a man old enough to be her grandfather when she was only eighteen.” He then shrugged. “’Course, I’m pretty sure she was just in it for his money. Anyway, they also talked about how she was obsessed with Alice in Wonderland, almost to the same level as Tetch here. Pretty sure she even auditioned for that remake that Tim Burton is making.”

“As in the Gray Ghost flick?”

“The ‘89 one? Yeah. Although I preferred the one from the ‘60s with Simon Trent.”

Batman raised a hand to his chin. “I’ll have to look further into this Dodson woman then. I feel that her and Jervis ending up together might be more than just a coincidence.”

“It’s possible.” Gordon dug into his coat and brought out his notepad, flipping through its pages. “I think Bullock got some stuff out of her before she clammed up after demanding a lawyer. I can share his notes with—”

But when he looked up, Batman was nowhere to be seen. Gordon looked to the rooftops of the surrounding buildings, hoping to find a trace of the Dark Knight, but there was none.

Gordon sighed as he took out his cigar. “I really hate it when he does that.”