CHAPTER ELEVEN
--Carcer--
Alarms blared loudly throughout the mobile city, red lights illuminating every corner. Footsteps could be heard as Carcerians rushed this way and that, Primus knew what for.
"Well, that didn't take long," Getaway said over the wailing of sirens. "If anyone asks, I'm holding you responsible, Nightbeat."
"Noted," the detective replied.
Getaway then turned to Skids, who was silently staring back the way they came. "Looks like we should have listened to you, ol' buddy. Guess you're better at assessing people than the rest of us."
"Uh-huh," was the theoretician's half-hearted response as he continued to stared down the hall.
Nautica frowned as she tilted her head at him. "Is everything all right, Skids?"
"Yeah," he lied. Turning to Getaway, he said, "Hey, remember when I told you about the gaps in my memory? About how I couldn't remember you or our mission to take out Tyrest?"
"Yeah?" Getaway replied. "It was because you used your nudge gun on yourself, right?"
"Right. Except I think I ended up erasing more than I had intended to. Or not erase... but repress. Like I forced myself to forget it."
"Okay...? So why are you bringing it up now?"
"Because...." Skids closed his optics as he raised a hand to his head. "I think it's coming back to me now."
As soon as he said this, a hulking shape emerged from around the corner. Sparking blue optics met Skids' and the theoretician fell to his knees, screaming as he clutched his head.
"Skids!" While Nautica rushed over to Skids, Getaway and Nightbeat charged at Sunder, who simply cackled loudly.
"Oh, how precious!" he said as he swung a massive arm at both Autobots, knocking them both back. "I'd forgotten how entertaining you Autobots could be! Charging at me unarmed, even... simply adorable."
He then returned his sights to Skids, who was still on his knees. Standing protectively over him, Nautica narrowed her optics at the mnemosurgeon as she brandished her wrench.
"They might not be armed, but I am," she said firmly. "Stay back if you don't want to get what's coming for you."
Sunder chuckled. "And the cuteness simply intensifies. Tell me, femme; how exactly do you intend to defeat me with such a pathetic tool?"
"Pathetic?" Nautica's optic twitched. "Excuse me? I think you meant to say 'dangerous.'"
"Prove me wrong, then. Go on. I'm in no hurry."
Nautica stared into Sunder's blue optics, which had ceased sparking, indicating he was no longer used his powers. Taking a deep breath, she then aimed the wrench directly at his face.
"Keep your eyes to yourself."
She then pressed a button and a burst of electricity sprouted from it. Reeling back, Sunder cried out as his optics began shorting out, blue light constantly flickering to black. Taking advantage of the distraction, Nautica coaxed Skids into getting back to his feet. She then called out to Nightbeat and Getaway.
"Guys, get back up! Let's go before he gets his bearings back!"
"Go where?" Getaway asked. "We have no idea what's here."
"I don't know, just-- just transform and go! I'll... I'll hold him off."
"What?! Don't be stupid, we won't--"
"You guys are cars. I'm a hovercraft. All I'll do is slow you guys down. Now get going before--"
"No." Skids suddenly rose from where he knelt and stepped towards the aggravated Sunder. "I'm the one he wants. You three should get out of here."
"Oh, come on!" Nightbeat cried. "The last thing we need is you pulling an Optimus Prime on us! You're not going to accomplish anything by sacrificing yourself!"
"For once, Nightbeat, you're wrong," Skids said as he bore all of his armaments. "Now go. Please."
He did not wait nor turn to see if the other three had heeded him. Instead, he continued to step towards Sunder, who had since recovered from Nautica's attack. Optics glowing blue once more, the homicidal mnemosurgeon cast his gaze down on the blue Autobot.
"You are certainly braver than most, I'll grant you," Sunder said. "But courage alone will not spare you."
Skids did not reply. Sunder tilted his head, baring his wide dental plates.
"Do you take yourself as some kind of hero? The self-sacrificial kind who will go down in history as an immaculate savior? A flawless warrior? The perfect idol?"
"No," Skids said. "I'm a theoretician."
With those words, he crouched down before launching himself at the mnemosurgeon....
* * *
"I saw him go down this way!"
"Let's move, people! Go, go, go!"
As Sentinel Major led his assorted team of Carcerians and Autobots, Rung and Froid followed them closely, with the former dragging the latter along despite his protests.
"Look, I understand that your mad," Froid said as his former colleague pulled him after the others. "But is this really--"
"What were you thinking?!" Rung snapped at him. "You knew this would happen, didn't you? You had to have known."
"Please, Rung, you must understand--"
"What is there to understand? You knowingly took a wanted serial killer under your care and just now let him off his leash. I may wear spectacles, Froid, but that doesn't mean I can't see a situation clearly for what it is."
"Rung." Froid put his hands on Rung's shoulders, although they were immediately shrugged off. "Please, listen. I... I was lying when I gave you my account on my survival."
"Oh, there's a surprise," Rung said dryly.
"Our ship -- the prison ship -- wasn't attacked by Decepticons. It wasn't attacked at all. Sunder, he broke out -- along with his brother Sceptre -- and took me hostage. We escaped on Sceptre's shuttle mode, but the prison ship fired on us and shot us down. Sceptre died in the crash, but Sunder and I survived.
"We eventually made it to Scarvix and settled there. We... made a decent living there, taking care of those with psychological issues. Sunder's mnemosurgery skills were of especial use... but as time went on, he started to get restless. Hungry. He wanted something in return. He wanted buried memories to feed on.
"I refused. Let me repeat, Rung: I refused. I may have done some reprehensible things in the past, but I would never go so far as to kill someone to further my career. But Sunder, as you can imagine, was the persuasive type."
"You told me he needed his optics to use his abilities," Rung said. "Couldn't you have--"
"That's what I taught him to believe. I convinced him he needed to see his victims before operating on them. But in truth he does not need to and can still use his powers even while blind, albeit more subconsciously."
"So that's how he was able to make us forget he was there all that time," Rung murmured.
"Yes, and it's how he was able to persuade me to find patients to feed on, and I presume to return his eyes to him." Froid sighed as he cast his gaze downward. "I realize that this is all my fault. That I will be held responsible for anyone who dies today."
"No one has to die," Rung said calmly. "You can still fix things before they get out of hand."
Froid looked up at him. "How?"
"Sunder is still your patient. Having been under your care so long, he's undoubtedly developed Lockset syndrome. He'll do anything you tell him since he trusts you so much."
Froid inclined his head. "Will he?"
Rung nodded. "I've witnessed as much firsthand. Trust me, Froid. I'm an expert."
Froid chuckled weakly. "You know, for all my animosity towards you, I've never once doubted that fact."
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