Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XIV, Chapter Eight

 CHAPTER EIGHT

Planet X

The trials had stopped.

Star Saber hadn’t realized it at first until he noticed how quiet it had suddenly gotten. He looked up just as Dipstick was shoved back into his cell by a Quintesson Bailiff while the Sharkticons were directed out of their pool by another. The Prosecutor spoke privately with the five-faced Judge, while all others in the chamber quickly took their leave.

“I wonder what’s going on,” Wing Saber remarked.

Star Saber could not even begin to speculate. He watched the Judge carefully as it continued to speak with the Prosecutor. Just as the Sharkticon pool was emptied and closed up, the Judge descended from its podium and floated across the chamber on its platform, making a bee-line for Star Saber and the others’ cell. Star Saber quickly got to his feet and stepped up to the bars of the cell as the Judge approached it.

“You should be grateful that your execution has been delayed,” the Judge said, rotating to adopt a orange-crested “smiling” face. “The Drilling has begun and I am off to see our plans be brought to fruition.”

“I wish I understood what any of that meant,” Star Saber muttered.

The Judge chuckled. “You do not need to. All you must know is that there is nothing you can do to stop it.”

“Why keep us around to kill us then? What do you gain from these… these kangaroo courts?”

“Entertainment, of course! It was what all of you were made for. Your race exists purely to obey the will of others.”

“We’re not slaves, you five-faced squid!” exclaimed Wing Saber. “Where did you get that harebrained idea?”

The Judge’s oval-shaped carapace spun around and replaced its face with a solemn, grimacing visage. “Many of you are too young to remember a time when Cybertron was ruled by the Quintessons. Instead, you coddle yourselves with make-believe stories of Knights and Primes to make yourselves feel as if you actually have a place in the universe.”

“I am aware of the Builders and the Age of Wrath,” Star Saber said. “You may have ruled over us once, long ago, but we fought for our independence and won it. You have no right to take it away from us.”

The Judge spun again to adopt a red-colored face of anger. “We have every right to take it away from you, Cybertronian! We created you!”

Star Saber took a step back, his optic wide in disbelief. “What…?”

“Your precious ‘god’ - your Primus - was created by us. Cybertron’s original twelve hot spots were ignited by us. Vector Sigma was activated by us. The Matrix, the AllSpark… everything you attribute your creation to was created by us. We are your Gods.”

Star Saber shook his head. “No. No, I don’t… I don’t believe you. I won’t.”

The Judge returned to his “grimacing” face. “It doesn’t matter. You will have no choice but to accept the truth, once all is said and done.”

With that, the Quintesson turned to leave the chamber, letting his words hang in the air. Before Star Saber had even a moment to dwell on them, there was a flash of light and a tall, imposing figure colored in dark maroon materialized in the chamber. Star Saber felt his fuel run cold as he immediately recognized the being.

“Lord Imperious Delirious,” the Judge said, sounding as surprised as Star Saber felt. “I was not expecting you.”

“I did not expect you to,” Lord Imperious coolly replied.

The Judge switched to a gold and black face with a skeptical expression. “Would you care to explain for your unannounced arrival?”

“Gladly.” Lord Imperious unsheathed a long blade from his arm and brought it down onto the Judge. The five-faced alien barely had time to scream as the sword went through his carapace and split him down the middle. The two halves of the Quintesson fell off of the floating platform and onto the floor, spilling green blood everywhere.

As Star Saber stared in horror at the gruesome sight, Lord Imperious waved a hand and the cell doors containing the Crusadercons suddenly vanished, freeing them. No one dared make a move however, with all optical sensors focused on the leader of the Destructons as he stood before them.

“What are you waiting for?” Lord Imperious asked, feigning ignorance to their reasons for hesitation. “You’re free now.”

“How do we know you won’t slaughter us as soon as we step out?” demanded Roller.

“Killing you would accomplish nothing,” Lord Imperious replied. “And keeping you imprisoned would be pointless, seeing as how it won’t make a difference once the Drilling has finished.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Star Saber asked.

Lord Imperious did not answer him and, with another flash of light, vanished from the chamber, leaving the now-freed Crusadercons alone in the massive chamber. 

“I really hate Destructons,” Star Saber muttered.

*  *  *

“Overseer Rexian has ceased responding. Prisoner escapees from Arena Two are making their way through the facility.”

A low rumble uttered from the recipient of these words. A turquoise hand grabbed a large purple blade from nearby and began sharpening it. “What about Arena One?”

“Prosecutor Vashik says that Judge Heirodyus has just been executed by Lord Imperious Delirious. The prisoners have also been freed by him.”

“By who?”

“By Lord Imperious.”

Admiral Tyrannicon growled as he rose from his seat. He already had unpleasant memories of dealing with Cybertronians back when he had been stationed on Aquatron over a century ago. It was because of said Cybertronians that his Quintesson masters had to rebuild him into a new body after having been destroyed by Megatron. Clearly, today was going to be no different.

“Redirect all units to surround the outside perimeter,” Tyrannicon ordered. “The escapees are sure to be trying to find a way out of the facility and escape to their ships. Better to meet them head on then to try to delay their escape.”

“Understood, sir,” the Lunarian officer replied. “Shall I alert the Mercenaries as well?”

Tyrannicon considered it. “Sure, why not? Let’s get everyone out there to give these Cybertronians hell.”

Another Lunarian looked up at him with a confused expression. “Aren’t the Mercenaries also Cybertronian?”

Tyrannicon answered by bringing his large blade down onto the Lunarian and slicing them in half. The others looked away from the scene, pretending not to have noticed though their fearful expressions showed otherwise.

“I will alert Doubledealer, sir,” the first Lunarian said.

“Good,” Tyrannicon snarled, wiping his blade clean. “And if anyone needs me… I’ll be joining in on the fun myself.”

*  *  *

“The Beast sure is taking his sweet time, isn’t he?”

Primus bristled at Rodimus Prime’s remark. The other gathered Primes in the chamber all turned their heads toward him; Liege Maximo and Amalgamous were glaring while Vector and Convoy looked apprehensive, silently pleading Rodimus not to goad their captor any further. The Autobot leader ignored them all and kept his attention focused solely on the supposed “God.”

“If things go as planned, the Beast will never arrive at all,” Primus said. “The whole point of this is to prevent his arrival. In the end, you and the entire Cybertronian race will thank me.”

“For what? Invading our homes and killing us?” Rodimus rolled his optics. “Yeah, we’re really grateful about that. If you remove these restraints, I’ll give you a ‘thank you’ punch to the face.”

“Cease your insolence,” Liege Maximo growled. “It is unbecoming of a Prime.”

“Shove it, Maximo,” Rodimus shot back. “You’re the last person I want a lecture on being a Prime from.”

“Enough!” Primus barked. “After today, the title of Prime will become irrelevant. Cybertron will fall under my leadership, as it should have always been.”

“Do you really think the people will accept you?” Rodimus asked. “Not everyone believes in the Guiding Hand.”

“They will once I grace them with my presence.”

“Or they’ll just think you’re some kind of impostor. Heck, even I’m still skeptical about you being who you claim to be.”

At this, Primus fully turned to face him, his single optic blinking. “You don’t think I’m your God?”

“If you are, you’re doing a bad job of it. Would you like me to list your atrocities again?”

“I am trying to save you all!” Primus cried. “If this fails, then those I have been forced to kill in my path will have received a mercy that none of you will know!”

Rodimus frowned. “Even if you really are a god, you have already showed that you don’t care about the people you’re supposed to protect. All you care about is the glory of your achievements.”

Primus laughed, though it lacked any confidence behind it. “Put yourselves in my stead, Prime. If you were standing where I do now, wouldn’t you have done the same?”

“No,” Rodimus said firmly. “Only a heartless egomaniac would have.”

Primus clenched his fists as he glared at Rodimus. If he was about to say or do something to the Autobot leader, he was deprived of the chance when another figure suddenly materialized into the room.

“Lord Imperious! It’s about time,” Primus said to the leader of the Destructons, who immediately turned to stare at the viewscreen. “The Drilling is already underway and should be finished in only a matter of time.”

“Good.” Lord Imperious’ voice was quiet, carrying none of the dramatic flair that was normal of him. “You have done well, Primus.”

“I will admit that I could not have done it without your help,” Primus replied. “It was you who directed me on how to prepare for the Beast’s arrival.”

Rodimus lifted an optical ridge at this, though decided to keep quiet. Lord Imperious continued to watch the viewscreen, observing the God Gun’s beam as it drilled into the very fabric of space.

“Your Creator would be proud,” he said.

Primus scoffed. “I doubt it.”

“I don’t.”

Primus tilted his head, giving Lord Imperious a questioning look. “What makes you say that? How would you know anything about how my Creator would feel?”

“Because you have done exactly what he wants.”

Primus looked confused as he shifted his gaze to the viewscreen. Where the God Gun’s beam was striking the fabric of space, a small rift was beginning to open. It was growing wider by the minute, tearing through dark matter like it was a sheet of paper.

Through the widening portal, Rodimus could see what looked like an entirely different universe on the other side. A universe filled with decay and rot; where no living thing can even hope to survive; where the mere concept of existence was unfathomable.

A dead universe.

“Oh, no,” Rodimus muttered.

“AllSpark save us,” Vector Prime supplied.

“Do you not have faith in your own god?” Lord Imperious asked, turning to face his astonished audience. “Or have you finally accepted the lie that is his existence?”

Primus’ single optic was focused on Lord Imperious, his entire frame beginning to shake. “Explain yourself, Imperious. What… what are you doing?”

Lord Imperious splayed his hands. “I have done nothing. You only have yourself to blame for what is to come.”

Through the widening rift, Rodimus could see what appear to be a massive dark shape trying to make its way through. Although he was barely able to make out its details, he could see enough of it to know what it was.

“In trying to repel the Beast, you have simply ensured its arrival,” Lord Imperious went on, his eyes gleaming with sinister satisfaction. “The people that once worshiped you will now damn you, Primus… at least in what little time they have left.”

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XIV, Chapter Seven

 CHAPTER SEVEN

Cybertron - Outside Maccadam’s

“Sovereign? Can you hear me?”

Sovereign groaned as his systems booted back online. After readjusting his optics, he saw that he was no longer inside Maccadam’s Oil House but rather outside, slumped against a wall in the alleyway. As he tried to recollect himself and recall what had just happened, his communicator pinged again.

“Sovereign, come in. Do you copy?”

The Titan Master answered the comm. “I copy, Hazard,” he grumbled.

“Where the blazes are you? Infinitus told me you had gone to Maccadam’s, but they’re closed for the night.”

“I’m out in the alleyway. I’m guessing they tossed me out or something.”

“You’re guessing? You didn’t get yourself wasted, did you?”

“Shut up and find me already,” Sovereign muttered.

A few minutes later, a tall bot in light gray and red appeared from around the corner. Having been among the Titan Masters who had been part of Apex’s hijacking plot, Hazard had since taken on a larger Transtector body with a design reminiscent of the Decepticon Seekers. It was a practice that many Cyberdroids, including the Titan Masters, had taken up following Nova Prime’s rise to power so as to avoid prejudice. While there wasn’t much point to it now in today’s society, Sovereign supposed it did make Cyberdroids’ lives easier when dealing with other full-sized Cybertronians.

As Hazard approached Sovereign, he looked down at the Titan Master with a hint of amusement on his faceplate. “You didn’t really answer my question,” he said dryly.

“Alchemist Prime lives,” Sovereign replied, guesting at the Oil House next to him. “He’s been living in Iaconus, posing as a bar owner, for the past seven thousand years.”

“Is that right?” Hazard observed the building, not as fazed by the revelation as Sovereign thought he would have been. “That’s interesting.”

“Interesting?” Sovereign shot back. “Hazard, you know who Iaconus is. You know what it means that he is still functioning and still on Cybertron!”

“I’m not sure that I do. I mean, he hasn’t exactly been doing much, has he?”

Sovereign shook his head. “You and I both know that years of inactivity does not preclude things from actually happening. We need to shut him down permanently.”

Hazard looked back at him. “And how do you propose we do that?”

“I might have an idea,” Sovereign said quietly. “But first, we need to gather the other Titan Masters before we can proceed.” 

“You’re not thinking of pulling another Apex, are you? That didn’t go so well last time, and the Autobots are already wary of us as it is.”

“It was never about gaining their trust, Hazard. It was simply about preparing them for what is to come.”

Walking past Hazard, Sovereign stepped out of the alleyway and onto the streets of Iacon, looking in the direction of Fortress Maximus.

“And if that means jeopardizing what little trust they have in us… then so be it.”

Cybertron - Fortress Maximus

“Here he is.”

Dai Atlas stood in front of the cell containing the mysterious “clone” (or whatever he was) that called himself Prowl. Like Cerebros had said, the strange white-and-black bot was in an offline state and displayed no signs of life. If he hadn’t been told otherwise, Dai Atlas would have thought he was dead.

“And do you have a mnemosurgeon on hand to extract his memories?” Dai Atlas asked.

Cerebros nodded and gestured to a small tan and red bot, who stepped forward. “Infinitus tells me Stylor here is one.”

“I can’t make any guarantees that I’ll be able to get anything out of him,” Stylor admitted. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s got some firewalls in place.”

“Regardless, do whatever you can,” Dai Atlas said.

After Cerebros had lowered the shield to Prowl’s cell, Stylor stepped in and climbed onto the immobile bot, positioning himself behind the bot’s neck. Extending a set of needles from his fingers, the Titan Master plunged them into Prowl’s neck and got to work.

While Stylor operated on the clone, Dai Atlas turned back to look at Cerebros. “Have you had a chance to see if there are any other means of reaching Rodimus Prime via the space bridge?”

Cerebros shook his head. “I haven’t been able to bring up the same list that Sovereign did. However, he did say that Metrotitan is still online, and he was one of the Titans who went after Liege Maximo. While I’m not exactly sure where Metrotitan is, he might be our only chance at reaching Rodimus.”

Dai Atlas silently nodded as he returned his attention to Stylor. As soon as he did, the Titan Master pulled his needles out of Prowl’s neck and jumped off of the clone as it fell lifelessly to the floor.

“What happened?” Dai Atlas asked.

“He’s dead,” Stylor replied. “I think he has been for some time.”

“That’s not right,” Cerebros muttered, stepping into the cell to give the body a closer look. “His vitals were in functioning order when I checked them on the scanners just a few deca-cycles ago.”

“His vital functions are operating, but not his spark,” said Stylor. “Because he doesn’t have one.”

Cerebros looked confused as he rolled the clone onto its back and opened up its chest plate. Indeed, where a spark and its chamber would have been was instead a simple circuit board, its wires having been somehow disconnected and permanently disabled.

“I don’t understand,” he said. “What even is he?”

“He’s a member of the Second Generation,” Stylor explained. “The children of Liege Maximo.”

Dai Atlas looked at him skeptically. “How do you know about that?”

“I lived during the Age of the Primes, as did my fellow Titan Masters. The Second Generation had always been a talking point in Liege Maximo’s vision for Cybertron, as the next point of evolution for the Cybertronian race. Rather than rely on sparks for life, they would instead run on pure energy and fuel. Even after the hot spots went cold and Vector Sigma became dormant, the Cybertronian race would live on through the Second Generation.”

“And Maximo was successful in giving birth to this ‘generation?’”

“Not during my time,” Stylor replied. “But, based on how this bot is built and considering he is already associated in some way with Liege Maximo, I have no doubt that that is what he is.”

“Fantastic,” Dai Atlas grumbled. “So we’re still back where we started.”

Suddenly, Cerebros stood up and turned to face Stylor. “You’re a Titan Master, aren’t you? Can you access Fort Max’s database?”

“Uh, I can try. Why?”

“Sovereign saw something in it that caused him to run out. I want to find out what it was.”

“Shouldn’t we focus on finding Rodimus?” Dai Atlas asked.

“It’ll have to wait.” Striding out of the cell, Cerebros beckoned the other two to follow him. “Follow me.”

While Dai Atlas started to follow Cerebros, Stylor did not. The two Autobots both stopped to look at the Titan Master, regarding him suspiciously.

“Aren’t you coming?” Dai Atlas asked.

Stylor’s expression was blank and unreadable. He didn’t even seem to be paying attention to the Autobots at all and instead appeared to be deep in thought. After a pressing few moments, he looked back up at the other two and frowned.

“I’m sorry it had to come to this, Kord,” the Titan Master said.

Cerebros shifted at the name. It was the same name the Titan Masters had addressed him with during their abduction plot. “What are you—”

Out of nowhere, a blaster bolt flew across the room and struck Dai Atlas in the back. The councilor cried as he fell face-first to the floor, at which point Stylor jumped onto him and inserted needles into his neck.

“Stop! Get off of him!” Cerebros moved to lunge at Stylor only for a strong hand to grab him by the shoulder and pull him back. Cerebros turned around to see Infinitus standing before him, a gun in hand.

“Infinitus! What’s going on? What is the meaning of this?”

Infinitus’ expression was one of solemnity. “I’m sorry, Kord. This has to be done. For the good of all of Cybertron.”

Cerebros stepped back from him. “You keep calling me that. That’s not my name. My name is Cerebros!”

“I wish this reunion could have been under better circumstances.”

Before Cerebros could do anything, Infinitus struck him in the face with the back of his gun. As he fell to the floor, Stylor moved from Dai Atlas and climbed onto Cerebros, brandishing his needles.

“It is time you finally remember who you are, Kord,” Infinitus went on. “Who you are meant to be.”

Cerebros could barely scream as the needles injected into his neck and the world exploded around him.

Cybertron - High Council Pavilions

“I would like to request an audience with the Council.”

The Autobot guard standing outside the chambers of the Council of Worlds regarded Punch with a look of disinterest. “Do you have a permit?” he grumbled.

“I don’t have time for bureaucratic nonsense,” Punch retorted. “This is important.”

“Really. How important are we talking about?”

“Important enough that I don’t need to go through any frivolous channels like yourself.”

The guard shifted his gaze from Punch to Maccadam and Toxitron, who stood behind the double agent. “And what are these two here for?”

Punch put a hand on Maccadam’s shoulder. “You’ve been to Maccadam’s Old Oil House, haven’t you?” he asked the guard.

“Once or twice.”

“Well, you’re looking at the fabled owner himself. He’s come out of a several millennia-long period of obscurity to speak with the Council. That’s how important this is.”

“What, did his bar license expire?”

At this, Maccadam let out a hearty laugh, which caught Punch off-guard. “Oh, that’s a very good guess,” the proprietor said. “In fact, I don’t think it’s been renewed since the fall of the High Council. Technically, I should be arrested.”

“I’m this close from doing so,” the guard grunted. “Now get lost before I—”

Toxitron stepped forward and threw his fist into the guard’s face, knocking them offline. He then swiped the bot’s security card and used it to open the door, all before Punch could utter a word of protest.

“You’re going to get us all in trouble,” Punch hissed.

Toxitron ignored him as he stepped through the door. Punch and Maccadam followed him and the trio found themselves staring down the barrels of several guns pointed at their faces.

“Identify yourselves!” ordered one of the security officers standing between them and the handful of councilors present in the chamber.

Punch raised an arm and displayed a small holographic image from his wrist. “Punch of Harmonex. Agent C-111 of the Autobot Secret Service. Pleasure to meet you.”

The officer regarded the hologram with a look of skepticism. “These credentials are out of date.”

“Your motherboard is out of date. Let us through.”

“Stand down, all of you.” Windblade came up from behind the security guards, eying Punch and his group warily. “What is going on here?”

“Maccadam here has some secrets he would like to share with you.” Punch glared at the proprietor in question. “Isn’t that right?”

“Maccadam? As in the owner of the Old Oil House?” Windblade stared at the orange bot in astonishment. “You’re really him?”

“Indeed I am,” Maccadam replied. “I will admit, I was not expecting to reveal myself to the public either, yet here we are.”

“Right,” Punch muttered. “So, you want to start spilling the beans or does Toxitron have to hit you with a door?”

Maccadam opened his mouth to speak… only to stop, his cheerful expression suddenly dropping and replaced with a look of dread. The lenses which covered his optics started to glow brightly, just as they had when Toxitron wore them.

“No,” he murmured. “Not now.”

“What is it?” Windblade asked, pushing past the guards to stand in front of Maccadam.

“It’s already begun. The Drilling has commenced. Too late to stop it. The Beast is on its way.”

“What ‘Beast?’ What the hell is ‘the Drilling?’”

Maccadam said nothing. Instead, he turned around and, with a surprising amount of strength, pushed Punch and Toxitron aside before dashing for the door. The Autobots quickly moved to pursue him, but when they stepped outside of the hall, Maccadam was nowhere to be seen, with nary a trace of him.

Raising a hand to her comm, Windblade said, “This is Councilor Windblade to security! Dispatch all available units to Maccadam’s Old Oil House!”

“Er, bit of a problem with that, Councilor,” responded the voice of Checkpoint.

Windblade frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Fortress Maximus has come online. And he’s already headed there.”

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XIV, Chapter Six

 CHAPTER SIX

Planet X

Wheelie knew that he was lost.

He could still hear the sounds from the arena, but they were well in the distance now. The hallway he had since found himself in was at least five times his size, making him feel even smaller than he already was. Every corner he turned simply led him down a different hallway, which then split off into two or three different corridors. To make matters worse, each room looked the same as the last, making Wheelie feel as if he was just driving around in circles.

Just as he was about to stop to try and collect himself, Wheelie heard voices coming from nearby. Quietly transforming to his robot mode, Wheelie walked in the direction of the voices, careful not to make a sound. He could them clearer as he neared a small room that he would have missed had he not been looking for it. Pressing himself against the wall just next to the doorway, Wheelie raised the sensitivity of his audio receptors to better hear what the individuals in the room were saying.

“…disturbance in Arena Two. Overseer Rexian is requesting reinforcements.”

“Dispatch Unit Five and Seven to Arena Two.”

“Should we strengthen security for Arena One?”

“Do that for all of them. This situation cannot bleed over.”

Suddenly, the door opened and Wheelie pressed himself against the wall, bracing for the worst. A pair of bots — both bearing armor with spiky edges — strode out of the room and walked past him, seemingly oblivious to his presence.

“The Drilling is about to begin,” said one of the two bots. “We cannot afford to have things be interrupted this late in the game.”

“I agree,” said the other. “Besides, you remember what happened to the last person to allow the plan to be set back.”

“Gah, don’t remind me. I can still hear the screams whenever I enter shutdown….”

The pair continued walking down the hall and turned the corner, disappearing from Wheelie’s line of sight. Realizing that the door was still open, he dashed into the small room and closed the door behind him. Once inside, he found himself facing a set of monitors, each linked to cameras in rooms throughout the facility. On one he could see the arena that he and Kup had been in, with the freed Monstercons still trying to fight their way out of the chamber. He was unable to spot Kup amongst the sea of Decepticons and could only pray that the older bot had gotten to safety.

Wheelie then shifted his attention to a monitor showing one of the other arenas. On the screen, he could see what looked to be hundreds of Autobots trapped in cells, with a pool filled with Sharkticons waiting below them. A five-faced Quintesson judge presided over the chamber while an overseer-type prosecuted the captive bots. Although Wheelie was not familiar with any of the bots being held prisoner, he knew it was his duty as an Autobot to help them.

As he started to hack into the console and find out where the prisoners were located, Wheelie heard the door open behind him. Afraid that it was the same bots who had been in here earlier, he braced himself for the worst as he turned around. Instead, he saw a short black and blue bot — about equal in size as him — who immediately froze upon seeing Wheelie. 

“Uh… I don’t think you should be here.”

Moving quickly, Wheelie jumped onto the other bot and tackled him to the floor, clamping a hand over his faceplate. “Make nary a sound and I won’t give your head a pound,” Wheelie whispered to him.

The other bot blinked but said nothing. After dragging him inside and closing the door again, Wheelie pinned him against the wall and unsheathed a small blade, holding it up to his neck.

“Show me the way and this will not be your last day.”

“Why are you talking like that?” the other bot questioned him, eying the knife nervously. “Who even are you?”

“I should be asking you the same,” Wheelie replied. “Perhaps you could provide me with your name.”

“My name is Wipe-Out. Please, could you do away with the knife? It’s really not necessary.”

Wheelie did not lower the knife. With his other hand, he pointed to the set of monitors, indicating the one that was his main concern. “Can you take me there?” he asked.

Wipe-Out glanced at the screen in question. “You mean the Courtroom? I, uh, I guess I could.”

“Will you help me free them?”

“Um, well, I— I don’t know if that would be smart,” Wipe-Out said. “There are a lot of guards down there and there’s only two of us and—”

“We’re not confronting them head on,” Wheelie interjected. “We would be sneaking in and pulling a con.”

Wipe-Out tilted his head. “You’re… you’re a Decepticon?”

Wheelie blinked in confusion. “What? No. What makes you….” He shook his head. “Forget it. Just take me there and follow my lead. Got it?”

Wipe-Out said nothing at first, staring at Wheelie as if weighing his options. Finally, he nodded, albeit with some hesitation.

“Okay. You got it. I’m with you. Now can you please put the knife away?”

Wheelie did so, though he still kept a hold on the other bot. With his other hand, he hit the control panel to open the door. It slid open and he turned to walk out… only to see the two spiky bots he had seen earlier standing outside. Before he had time to react, one of the pair seized him by the neck and hoisted him up, a wicked grin on their face.

“Well, well,” the scarlet-colored bot said, a sadistic gleam in his yellow optics. “And just where did you come from?”

“I asked him but he wouldn’t even tell me,” Wipe-Out started to stay. “I think he—”

“I wasn’t talking to you, runt,” the larger bot snapped. “Aren’t you supposed to be with Flame?”

“Yes, but he sent me to fetch you,” Wipe-Out said hastily. “He, uh, he said needed your help or— or something.”

The spiky bot scowled. “Fine. Maybe while we’re there, he can find a use for this little intruder. If not, we can always feed him to the Sharkticons.”

Wheelie opened his mouth and was about to fire a sharp retort only to stop when the floor shook slightly. Wipe-Out reacted in alarm and even the two spiky bots seemed confused at first. Then, the red one smiled.

“Oh. So it has begun.”

“What?” Wipe-Out whined. “What has begun?”

“The Drilling.”

*  *  *

“I would like to thank you for agreeing to join me on this momentous occasion.”

Rodimus Prime glared at the being who called himself Primus, his arms still bound by energy rays. “I wouldn’t say ‘agreeing’ is the right word to use.”

Primus ignored the remark as he stared at a viewscreen showing the five planetoids that comprised his God Gun. “I know we did not get off on the right foot earlier,” he went on. “But I still wanted you and your fellow Primes to be present for what is sure to be a historical moment.”

Rodimus looked over to see that he and Convoy were not the only ones in the room with Primus. Vector Prime stood nearby, similarly restrained, while Liege Maximo and Amalgamous Prime loomed over him. Vector met Rodimus’ gaze with a apprehensive look but said nothing to the younger Prime.

Primus began speaking again, redirecting Rodimus’ attention back to him. “It was on this day, over twelve thousand years ago, that my younger self — through Adaptus — bore witness to what you are about to see for yourselves. As we speak, he travels through the Warren and by the time he emerges here, the Beast will have already arrived.”

“My friend Convoy here told me a little bit of your story,” said Rodimus. “Is this where you took Luna One after the Quintessons were driven away?”

“You know about that, do you?” Primus replied, turning to look at Rodimus. “In any case, you are correct. As soon as the Lunarians had finished building the moon’s engines, I — Adaptus, that is — took it into the Warren, a network of subspace tunnels that he had discovered shortly before he turned against the other four. It deposited me into the Benzene Cluster, thousands of years into the future, where I saw… it.”

“And just what is ‘it?’” Rodimus asked.

“Words cannot do it justice. Even seeing it would be enough to cause your processor to overload itself. Speaking of which….” Primus turned back to the viewscreen. “I do believe we are about to begin.”

Rodimus shifted his gaze to the viewscreen and saw that the five Cybertron replicas that made up the God Gun were beginning to glow. Beams of energy emitted from the spheres, linking them together before being redirected towards the central planetoid. As the beams converged onto Planet X, Rodimus felt the ground shift, as if the planet was threatening to split itself apart. Primus did not appear to be bothered by this. In fact, although he lacked a mouth, Rodimus was pretty sure he would have been smiling.

“Prepare yourselves, my friends,” the Grand Architect said quietly. “The Beast is on his way.”

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XIV, Chapter Five

 CHAPTER FIVE

Planet X

“Your friend is unwell. He has been twisted by this Hell.”

“You said it, lad,” Kup muttered, sitting across from his cellmate. The small orange bot went by the name Wheelie and had an odd way of speaking, often using rhymes. So far, Kup had not been able to discern much about Wheelie’s history and how he had ended up in the Quintessons’ clutches, though he supposed it didn’t matter much at the moment, with there being more pressing matters at hand.

He looked outside to see that Guzzle had been brought back out for another match. While the mad tank-bot was still shaking and loudly declaring his craving for more bots to kills, Kup could tell that he was not as energized as he had been previously. These barbaric matches were wearing Guzzle down, and the Quintessons had not been doing much to keep him in good shape. If this next match didn’t kill Guzzle, the next two or three certainly would.

“Much as I hate to admit it, I’d say he’s our best chance of breaking out of here,” Kup said quietly. “If we could find a way to distract him and lure him here, maybe we can provoke him into tearing the door open.”

“Your idea is sound but I cannot lie, if the monster comes to us, we most certainly would die,” said Wheelie.

“It’s a big risk, I know. But honestly, I’d rather have him tear me apart than be fed to the Sharkticons. Besides, your small and would have a better chance at evading him.” Kup’s expression turned grim. “He wants me dead anyway.”

Wheelie gave him a quizzical look but thankfully did not ask Kup to elaborate on the last bit. “Among the Sharkticons, I have a friend,” he said instead. “He can save us from a terrible end.”

It was Kup’s turn to look quizzical. “You’re friends with a Sharkticon? How did that happen?”

“Gnaw is his name. He did not eat me, whereas the others would have. Visits me he sometimes does when his masters are not looking.”

Kup frowned. “And how exactly is he going to help us? Do you have any way of summoning him?”

Wheelie shook his head. “Gnaw arrives as he pleases. Far be it from me to impede on his freedom.”

“Well, I’m afraid we can’t abide by your friend’s schedule. We need to get out of here now or else we’ll never have another shot at this.”

Kup watched through the bars as Guzzle was taken into the arena. Waiting for him there was another batch of Monstercons, all looking terrified of what they knew was their impending doom. Guzzle looked down at them with a look of hunger in his optics.

“Ah— dessert time!” Guzzle rubbed his large hands together. “What do we have on the menu tonight? Some Croctobot stew with a side of Lobstercon?”

“W-we ain’t afraid of you!” cried a teal and yellow reptilian Monstercon, shaking as he pointed a gun at Guzzle. “W-we outn-number you!”

Guzzle laughed as he brought his fist down onto Razorgrille, smashing him into the floor. “Numbers don’t mean nothing.”

“This… this isn’t worth the XP,” murmured a red-orange lobster-like Decepticon. “Can I skip this level? There’s gotta be a cheat code for it. I knew I should have leveled up before getting to this part….”

Bisk turned to run away only to be grabbed from behind by Guzzle. Just as the ex-Wrecker was about to tear the Monstercon in half, Kup chose that moment to make his move.

“Hardspark!”

Guzzle froze and a deathly silence fell over the room. One of the Quintessons overseeing the arena turned in the direction of Kup and Wheelie’s cell and sneered.

“Silence, or your time will come sooner than you would prefer,” growled the overseer.

Kup ignored him and proceeded to speak to Guzzle. “Remember Hardspark, lad? Your brother? The same brother that I killed?”

Guzzle roared out in rage and he threw Bisk into a bat-like Monstercon, before turning in Kup’s direction. His optical sensors flared madly as steam exhumed from the vents in his faceplate.

“I’d say it’s by time you got your revenge, wouldn’t you say, pal?” Kup went on, aware that Wheelie was staring at him as if he was a mad man (he wouldn’t have been wrong, either). “You’ve been denied your shot at me once too often.”

“Silence!” the overseer bellowed. “Do not interfere with the match!”

Kup smirked, locking eyes with Guzzle. “Come and get me, kid. I know you want to.”

With an ear-splitting roar, Guzzle charged towards the cell, barreling past the Allicon guards that stood in his way. As he backed up against the wall, Kup glanced at Wheelie.

“You can still transform, can’t you, lad?”

Wheelie slowly nodded, still looking between fear of Guzzle and annoyance with Kup.

“Once you see an opening, go through it. Go and find Gnaw or whatever his name is. I’ll hold this guy off.”

“You will not last long,” Wheelie whispered. “He is much too strong.”

“I know. That’s the idea.”

The Quintessons’ efforts to reel Guzzle back in were ineffective and the tank-bot came crashing into the cell, undeterred by the electrical shocks that the bars tried to surge into his body. Without hesitation, Wheelie transformed into a small orange car and sped off, leaving Kup to his fate.

“YOU’RE GONNA DIE, YOU SPAWN OF A GLITCH!” Guzzle roared. “I’M GONNA KILL YOU SO HARD!”

Kup smirked in the face of death. “Promises, promises.”  

*  *  *

“Well, well, well. Looks like we have a useful distraction.”

Leo Prime peered through the bars of his cell to see that Guzzle had broken off from his fight with the Monstercons and was instead attacking one of the many cells that surrounded the arena. He then glanced at Steel Jaw, who had a thoughtful smirk on his lupine face.

“How is this useful?” Leo Prime asked. “We’re still stuck in a cell. This doesn’t change anything.”

“But the guards are distracted,” Steel Jaw pointed out. Indeed, the Allicons that had been stationed at their cell had abandoned their post to deal with the raging Guzzle. “Meaning there’s no one here to stop us.”

“Stop us from what? Are you saying you’ve had a escape plan this whole time?”

Steel Jaw flashed a sly grin. “Who do you think you’re talking to? Do you really think I would have gone so many days, so many weeks, without having formulated some sort of plan?”

Leo Prime rolled his eyes, already fed up with the wolf-Con’s arrogance. “Well, what’s your plan then?”

“You know how I have a penchant for sonic weaponry?” Steel Jaw asked.

Leo Prime’s optics narrowed, recalling how Steel Jaw’s “penchant” had botched his plans back on Earth. “Yes….”

“Well, I took an interest in our late friend Carnivac’s ability to temporarily disable others with his sonic howls. I took some time to build a device that could replicate his power.”

“So, what, your plan for escape is to knock everyone out cold, including ourselves?” Leo Prime asked wryly.

Steel Jaw chuckled. “It doesn’t quite work to the same extent. Just enough for our purposes.”

He raised his right arm, which converted into the shape of a gun. He pointed it at the ceiling and it let out a single “burst” of sound, at a low enough frequency that Leo Prime could barely hear it. Instantly, all of the cell doors across the arena opened, allowing the captive Monstercons, Chimeracons, and Star Seekers to pour out.

Leo Prime gawked upon this scene before looking back at Steel Jaw, who smirked back at him.

“Am I forgiven now?”

Leo Prime shook his head as he stepped out of their cell, out into the now-crowded arena. “Ask me again if we survive this.”

*  *  *

Kup should have been dead by now.

He wasn’t just thinking about Guzzle, who was mere inches from killing Kup and was held back only by the Allicons trying to reel him back in. He was also thinking about the countless other near-death experiences and scenarios he had been through over the course of his life. From being trapped in the Nightmare Engine to being shot into a sun, he had practically been through hell and back. Yet somehow, against all odds, he was still holding together to this day. Kup couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing as Guzzle continued to rage in front of him.

“GET OFF OF ME!” Guzzle bellowed as an Allicon stuck an electric prod into the back of his head. “I’M NOT LETTING YOU GREASE-STAINS KEEP ME FROM MY DESTINY!”

Kup knew he should have been using this opportunity to escape. But he knew wherever he went, Guzzle would follow and endanger the lives of not just Kup but anyone around him. No, he had to stay put and make sure that Guzzle was put down for good… even if it came at the cost of his own life.

As Guzzle threw the Allicon off of him and into two others that were approaching, Kup chose that moment to act. Launching into the air, he transformed into his truck mode and rammed himself into the tank. Despite the vast disparity between their sizes, the force of the blow was enough to knock Guzzle back, bringing them out of the cell and into the arena. Returning to his robot mode, Kup threw his fists into Guzzle’s head, not pulling any punches as he tried to keep the ex-Wrecker disoriented enough from throwing back.

Suddenly, a symphony of cheers and roars filled the arena. Looking up, Kup saw that the cells surrounding the arena had inexplicably been opened and countless prisoners were pouring out, all converging on his and Guzzle’s location.

“Oh, slag.” Kup jumped off of Guzzle before the larger Autobot could recover and attack him. At that moment, a serpentine Monstercon lunged at Guzzle and wrapped himself around the ex-Wrecker, holding him in place.

“I’ve got him!” Vertebrake cried. “He’s all yours!”

At first, Kup thought the Monstercon was talking to him, until the other Decepticons all swarmed in and attacked the restrained Guzzle, guns ablaze. Among the assailants was a purple Chompazoid, who eagerly charged towards Guzzle and wrapped his huge maw around the ex-Wrecker’s legs. The scream Guzzle uttered as his legs were ripped from his body was a sound Kup hoped to never hear again.

It wasn’t long before Guzzle was on the ground and Kup could no longer see him beyond the sea of Decepticons that was overwhelming him. Guzzle continued to scream but his attempts to fight back were in vain as the Monstercons proceeded to pull him apart piece by piece. Kup looked away, not wanting to see what would remain of his former comrade once the Monstercons had had their fill.

Looking up, Kup saw that the Quintesson overseers and their Allicon guards were gathering together at the rim of the arena, watching the unfolding events with vague expressions. Realizing that they were not paying attention to him, Kup transformed into his truck mode and drove up the side of the arena. Jumping up, he converted back to his robot form and landed a punch into one of the Allicons’ faces, attracting the Quintessons’ attention. The veteran Autobot held up his fists as the other guards pointed their spears at him.

“You really think you can beat me with those sticks of yours?” Kup said with a wry grin. “’Cons bigger and stronger than you have blasted me with worse, and yet here I am still.”

“Know your place, Cybertronian!” snarled one of the Quintessons. “Stand down and comply or else we will—”

“Rexian!” said another overseer. “We must get this situation under control! Once those… those beasts are done with our fighter, they will come for us!”

Overseer Rexian frowned as he looked back down into the arena. “I believe they already are.”

Kup followed his gaze and saw that the ‘Cons were indeed already finished with Guzzle, leaving nothing but what barely qualified as an endoskeleton, and were now heading towards where he and the Quintessons were.

“Fall back!” Rexian cried. “Fall back!”

With “Nightmare Engine” and “being shot into a sun” already being on his list of impossible survival scenarios, Kup could only hope that “fleeing from Monstercons with a bunch of alien squids” would be one of them.