CHAPTER ONE
--Cybertron, the past--
"Rest assured, Major, you are not alone in this world."
The black and red mech looked up from the berth he was laying on. "Really?"
"Of course." A soft smile touched the doctor's intricate features, multiple parts shifting to best approximate the expression. "Primus apotheosis is relatively rare, affecting two percent of all Autobots, but you are definitely not the first case I've dealt with."
"Is there a cure?" the Major asked.
The doctor leaned back in his seat, steepling his upper set of hands. "It... depends. While there is precedence for preventing the effects from progressing, such cases are usually dealt with very early on. You on the other hand...."
The Major frowned. "Is it that bad?"
"It's not--" The doctor sighed as he dipped his chin. "This isn't something to be ashamed of, Major. Optimus Prime is an inspiration to us all; there's nothing wrong in wanting to emulate him."
"But surely there's a line that shouldn't be crossed. I mean, I've heard the stories...."
The doctor frowned. "Have you had any... urges?"
The Major gave him a look. "Urges?"
"Have you ever been on the battlefield and suddenly feel the need to sacrifice yourself for a goal that's even remotely noble?"
"No. Well, I mean... surely that's a characteristic all Autobot commanders share. Not just Prime, but Thunderclash and Elita-One and even Grimlock."
"And you, Major?"
The Major bowed his head as he sighed. "Earlier this cycle, on Vespa... a group of Druidians fell into the mines. The 'Cons were closing in on their position. I went down there, even though it would've surely meant my death if one of those Drillers had finally reached our position. If it wasn't for my unit's quick thinking...."
He looked back at the doctor. "But stuff like that is normal, right? For Autobots? It's... it's not just something only Prime does."
The doctor stared back at him. "Have you seen your reflection lately, Major?"
The Major narrowed his optics. "What?"
"Have you always hid your face behind a mouthplate?"
The Major raised a hand to his face, feeling the smooth metal where his mouth should have been.
"No...."
--Eukaris, now--
"You all right, Boss-Bot?"
The gorilla blinked as it snapped out of its reverie. Craning its head, it saw a lanky, spotted cheetah laying across a nearby ledge. The feline's whiskers twitched in concern.
"You seemed lost there for a nanosec," Cheetor said. "Everything all right?"
Primal sighed as he returned his gaze to the rushing waters of the river. "I'm fine, Cheetor. Just... thinking."
Cheetor tilted his head. "You worried about Airazor and Tigatron?"
"I always worry about those two. Don't get me wrong, I trust Tigatron -- he's been here longer than any of of us and know the jungle like the back of his hand. But he does have a tendency to wander into Eukaris' more... unexplored territory."
"Yeah," Cheetor agreed. "Not to mention with the Preds scattered now, now that they've lost their council...."
"That shouldn't be too much of a concern." Lumbering up the ravine was a massive brown rhinoceros. "We're a long ways from Talon Valley, where most of the Predacons' territory seem to be centered on. They wouldn't have much reason to venture beyond their borders."
"Eh, unless it's to hunt Maximals for sport." A large gray rat scampered up the rock Cheetor laid on, wearing a harness that had a scanning device attached to its back. "'Cos, you know, Preds do that. A lot."
"Anything new to report, Rattrap?" Primal asked.
"Oh, not much," the rodent replied. "Just another Fuzor sighting is all."
"Another one?" Cheetor asked. "Was it different from the one Airazor spotted?"
"Must've been, since this one didn't have any wings. Looks normal at first glance 'til you realize it's a tiger with a baboon head."
"I thought Fuzors were a myth," Primal mused aloud. "The way Leo Prime talks about them...."
"Leo Prime does have a tendency to cast certain things in a negative light," Rhinox said. "Backstop once told me he was reluctant to allow former Scale Walkers into the Maximals due to their tendency to be pro-Predacon."
"Eh, who can blame him?" Rattrap said. "Anyway, I suggest we get a move on. I don't feel all too comfortable here with a Fuzor in the area."
"Why do you think he'd be hostile?" Cheetor asked. "If no one's actually met a Fuzor, then how do you know they wouldn't be friendly?"
"Hey, you wanna make friends with the freak, be my guest. I on the other hand have no intention on stickin--"
Rattrap was cut off by a loud caw coming from the distance. Primal frowned as he looked in its direction.
"That sounded like Airazor...."
"What are we sitting around for?" Cheetor said, immediately getting to his feet. "Let's go!"
"Let us not be too hasty," Rhinox said, letting Rattrap climb onto his back. "We don't know what kind of danger she's in. We should approach with caution. Right, Primal?"
But Primal wasn't listening, as he was already headed in the direction of the cry.
* * *
"Relax. You're in good hands now."
The brown-colored bot said nothing, staring at Tigatron with sunken optics. The white tiger frowned as he looked around at the many bots caught up in webbing or wrapped up in cocoons. All of them appeared to be Fur Walkers -- neutrals at that.
It pained Tigatron to see his own kind threatened like this. All Maximals were his kin, of course, but Tigatron had been raised in the Fur Walker tribe and, as such, felt a stronger connection to them than any other.
Looking up, he saw Airazor perched on a tree branch, surveying the macabre sight they had come across. The bird met the tiger's eye and she tilted her head in concern.
"How is she?"
"Not well," Tigatron said grimly. "She's barely functioning, and she's not responding to anything."
"We should take her back to camp," Airazor suggested. "Maybe Santon can nurse her back to health."
Tigatron raised an eyebrow at her. "And what about the rest? They're all in as bad a condiction as she is, if not worse."
"Well, we can't just leave her here! We've got to--"
"Wait." Tigatron lifted his head, sniffing the air. "I sense something."
Airazor flapped her wings. "Predacon?"
"Possibly. They smell like a Crawler. Large, eight legs...." The tiger's eyes widened, his entire body stiffening. "We have to go."
"What?" Airazor replied. "But what about--"
"This was a trap!" Tigatron exclaimed, already running. "We walked right into a--"
He cried out as his front paw got caught on a hidden strand of web and he was sent flying upwards, ending up trapped in a net of webbing.
"Tigatron!" Airazor cried, flying over to the ensnared feline.
"Go!" he implored her. "Find Primal and the others!"
"I'm not leaving you here!" She clawed at the net with her talons. "I'll get you out!"
"It's no use! Get away from here before--"
From up in the trees, a large creature with eight spindly legs crawled down, mandibles clicking together.
"...Before that."
Unfazed by the arachnid's presence, Airazor continued to pull at the net. Her efforts were abruptly stopped when Tigatron bit down on her leg.
"Ow! Hey!" The bird flew back from the net. "I'm trying to--!"
"Go, Airazor. That's an order."
"But--"
"I said go!"
Realizing protesting would do no good, Airazor did as told and took for the skies. The arachnid paid her no head as it caught a hold on Tigatron's net and pulled him up into the foliage....
THE FATE WE WEAVE
A Prelude to Hello Cruel World
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