Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XV, Chapter Thirteen

 CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Everything appears to be in order.” Lord Imperious circled around the Talisman, held securely within its chamber. “There are some signs of it having been tampered with, but that is to be expected. Cybertronians are a naturally curious race; no doubt more than a few of them tried to see for themselves exactly what it is capable of.”

Psychokhan came galloping into the chamber, an eager look on his face. “My lord, the Chaos Bringer is in range! The moment is now!”

“It is, isn’t it?” Lord Imperious mused aloud. “How I have waited so long for this day to come. Thankfully, it is practically a guarantee that the wait will have been worth it.”

He turned around to gaze upon the mechanical being he had brought into the room with him after getting pass Megatron and his Decepticons. The one who called himself Primus sat on his knees in a dejected state, his head hung low. It was a rather pathetic sight, especially for someone who claimed himself to be a “god.”

Gliding over to him, Lord Imperious bent down and lifted Primus’ chin up with a finger. “Would you care to do the honors, my friend?”

“Wh-what?” Primus replied, his single optic dilating.

“This is your plan, isn’t it? This is what you’ve been building towards.”

Primus shook his head. “No. Not my plan. Never was my plan.”

“But you did all of the work!” Lord Imperious said. “You were the Grand Architect, pulling the strings for several thousands years. I simply guided you along, giving you advice and helping out when I could. You only have yourself to blame for thinking the outcome was going to be any different than what it would inevitably be.”

He then grabbed Primus by the shoulders and pulled him up to his feet before pushing him towards the Talisman.

“All you have to do is pull the switch,” the Destructon whispered into the false god’s ear. “Then it will all be over. You will finally be able to rest.”

Primus stared at the Talisman but did not move, although he could feel his arm start to twitch with every word spoken into his audio receptor.

“Your creator will be proud,” Lord Imperious continued. “He may even finally give you the love and recognition you’ve longed for.”

Another moment of hesitation passed. Then, Primus raised a hand towards the Talisman… and pulled the switch.

*  *  *

“We have arrived, Lord Megatron,” Terrorsaur said from the controls of the Darksyde. “What are your orders?”

Beast Megatron leaned forward in his command chair, resting his chin on a hand. “Perform a spark scan. Make sure that Scorponok is actually here at this location.”

As Terrorsaur performed the scan, Beast Megatron observed their destination through the viewport of the ship. The forested area was referred to by the humans as “the Bennington Triangle” and was notorious for being the site of numerous disappearances and even supernatural encounters. Such myths were irrelevant to him, of course; his only interest in it was for who resided here.

“My liege?” Scorponaut turned in his seat to look at Beast Megatron. “I’ve just detected the Maximals’ ship on the radar. They’ve followed us here.”

“As to have been expected,” Beast Megatron said. “Raise the shields but don’t take any action, even if they do fire on us.”

“You don’t want us to fight them?” asked Blackarachnia.

“Unfortunately, there’s no time in our schedule to do so. In fact, while I’m thinking about it… prepare the transwarp drive for a jump.”

Some of the Predacons exchanged looks with each other. Blackarachnia frowned as she looked back at the Predacon leader. “For what year?”

Beast Megatron pretended to think about it. “How about… Cycle 9701? Yes, that sounds about right.”

“The year of the Cataclysm?” Dinobot asked. “Why that specific date?”

“No particular reason,” Beast Megatron lied with a shrug. “Have you finished your scan, Terrorsaur?”

“Yes, my liege,” the red pteranodon squawked. “I’ve picked up exactly one spark signature and it is a match for Scorponok’s.”

“Excellent.” Beast Megatron grinned as he leaned back in his seat, folding his hands in his lap as he crossed his legs. “Prepare the primary laser cannon. Fire on my mark.”

*  *  *

“There they are, Big Bot,” Cheetor said from the controls of the Axalon. “Straight ahead.”

Primal Major leaned forward in his command seat, his optics focused on the claw-shaped Predacon spacecraft ahead of them. Even as the Axalon closed in on it, the Darksyde did not move from where it hovered over the forested area below.

“They’ve got their shields up,” Rhinox pointed out. “I bet they’re prepared for us to start shooting at them. Shall we go ahead and start firing?”

“Hold for now,” Primal said. “Something’s not right.”

“What are you talking about?” Rattrap asked. “They’re right there! We’ve got ‘em in our sights!”

“That might just be what they want, Rattrap. They might be trying to lure us into a trap.”

“What can they do? Fire back? It’s what we were expectin’ them to do anyway. I say we—”

“Er, Primal?” Arcee spoke up, standing near a side viewport with Bumblebee and Bulkhead. “There’s… something in the sky.”

Primal frowned. “Rhinox, switch visuals.”

The rhinoceros Maximal pressed a command and the display on the front viewport changed to show an overhead image of Earth’s sky. Right away, the crew were greeted with an ominous formation of dark, almost pitch-back clouds, with violet energy stewing within.

“Jumping gyros!” Cheetor exclaimed. “That’s one hell of a storm brewing!”

“That’s no ordinary storm,” Lio Convoy said quietly, standing to Primal’s side. “I’ve been on Earth for over a year and none of the storms I’ve experienced on this planet have been anything like… that.”

Purple lightning flashed as strong winds began to pick up, and the Axalon shuddered as it braced itself against a powerful gust. Within the clouds, the violet energy started to crackle, becoming brighter and brighter as it separated into two distinct clusters, taking on the vague appearance of….

“Eyes,” Rattrap said. “Those are eyes. I’m not hallucinating things, am I? Those are most definitely eyes, right?”

“Sweet Primus….” Primal’s voice came out in a whisper as he marveled at what he was seeing. Both he and the others were all enveloped at the sight unfolding before them that they didn’t even notice as the Darksyde fired its primary cannon at the ground below.

Lio Convoy’s hand fell onto Primal’s shoulder. “This is it, isn’t it?” he murmured. “This is what the Grand Architect was trying to bring about. What Onyx Prime was helping him bring about.”

Rattrap pulled himself up into an almost fetal position. “We’re all gonna die.”

No one told him to shut up this time as the Earth exploded around them.

*  *  *

“NO!” Scorponok bellowed. “This can’t be happening! This can’t be—”

An explosion knocked him off his feet. All around him, his secret lair within Glastenbury Mountain was falling apart. Something had blasted it from outside, and had quickly followed it up with subsequent blasts. Scrambling to his feet, he transformed to his mechanical scorpion mode and made a break for the exit. There would be time to mourn over his losses later; first, he had to get out with his life and then find out who was behind this attack.

While he succeeded in performing that first step, emerging from the lair just as the mountain started to cave in behind him, the sight he was greeted with outside made him instantly forget that second one.

All around him, the Earth was burning. The once-lush forest had been rendered a reddish hellscape; the green trees had been sheared and burnt to cinders. No longer did foliage obstruct his view as he was now granted a full, complete view of the area around him as infernos raged.

As Scorponok tried to wrap his processor around what he was seeing, trying to deduce what could have been responsible for this, he looked down at the ground… and noticed something off about it.

Where there had once been dirt was now a patch of metal. That patch started to quickly expand, spreading out across the land and blanketing over the apocalyptic scene laid out in front of him. Behind him, the Glastenbury Mountain erupted in an explosion of dust and rubble as a metal spire sprouted out from beneath it, stretching up to stretch the sky.

A feeling of dread gripped his spark. Was this Megatron’s doing? It was not unlike the cyber-forming campaigns the Decepticons had waged during the Great War, such as when they converted worlds such as Nix Terra and Shimazu Nine into new colonies for their expanding empire. Except the Decepticons had lost the devices they had used for those campaigns near the end of the war; how had Megatron reacquired such technology? Unless…

The Talisman! Of course! Scorponok started to seethe with rage upon this realization. Of course the Decepticon leader had figured out what the Talisman was capable of and used it before Scorponok could. It would have just been his luck; no matter how hard he tried, how much he schemed, Megatron always managed to be one step ahead of him.

Megatron has nothing to do with this.

Scorponok froze up, his optical sensors darting around in search of the low, booming voice he had just heard. “Who… who said that?”

You intrigue me, Scorponok. The numerous ways you have managed to cheat death… I am impressed. I would go so far as to say I am envious of your wiliness.

Scorponok felt the world shift and looked down to see that the ground was starting to shrink beneath his feet. He then realized that the ground wasn’t shrinking… he was growing. At the same time, a strange substance started to coat over his armor plating, replacing his purple and green shades with black and gold.

I could use your mind among my new Heralds. Perhaps you may even fare better than your predecessor.

Scorponok’s eyes went wide as he realized who it was speaking in his head… then his equilibrium faded as he subjected himself to the will of his new master.

Arise once more… Dark Scorponok.

*  *  *

“Optimus? Please tell me you copy.”

“I copy, Elita.” Optimus Prime’s voice was somber and quiet, though Elita-One knew she didn’t need to ask why that was. “And before you ask, yes. Yes, I see what is happening.”

She slumped forward onto the central control unit of Metroplex’s command center, running a hand over her helm. “Are you… are you and the others all right? Are you in danger of—”

“We have just evacuated from the Ark. We managed to get out in time before the mountain caved in on it. We are making our way towards the nearest site of civilization, although… I doubt we are going to find any signs of life.”

“Do you think… do you really think the humans have perished?”

“It would be a miracle if they haven’t. I have seen the effects of cyberforming first-hand before. While us Cybertronians aren’t affected much by it, the same cannot be said of organics. I’m afraid….”

Optimus’ voice trailed off, but Elita did not need him to finish his statement. Mustering all of her emotional strength, she managed to say, “Let me know when you can get in range of Metroplex. I will prepare an orbital jump for you.”

“Understood.” That was all the Autobot leader said before the connection ended. Elita then hang her head low and joined the rest of the bridge crew in mourning for the loss of the planet they had vowed to protect.

*  *  *

Sari felt her heart stop.

She slumped herself against the wall of the Darksyde, which she had just risked her life to sneak aboard under the guidance of a tiny spider on her shoulder. Down below, the Earth burned as a blanket of metal slowly but surely began to cover it, transforming it into a metallic sphere.

All she could think of was of all the people who were surely dying at this very moment. All of her friends — Jack, Raf, Miko; all of the people she had met in the past few weeks — Verity, Charlie, Tommy; her own father, if he was even still alive. All of them, just gone in the matter of seconds, leaving her the last survivor. And she wasn’t even fully human.

As her breath started to quicken, tears welling up in her eyes, the spider on her shoulder crawled down and grew to full size, transforming into the monstrous Tarantulas.

“This is… unexpected,” the Predacon murmured. “I must say, I did not take something such as this into account.”

“Ah, Tarantulas! What a pleasant surprise!”

Tarantulas moved with a start as a large purple figure suddenly appeared from around the corner. Sari did not pay either of the Predacons any heed, still lost in her grief.

“Gnashteeth!” Tarantulas exclaimed. “What is going on here? Did you know this was going to happen?”

“Confronting me with questions, are you? I believe that you are far more worthy of such an interrogation. Oh, and it’s Megatron, now.”

“Megatron,” Tarantulas spat. “That name alone speaks to your ego.”

“Perhaps. But it is well earned, in my opinion.” Beast Megatron then shifted his gaze to Sari, who was still sitting against the wall with her legs drawn up to her chest. “Ah, you are here as well. Excellent. Things are continuing to unfold exactly as they are supposed to.”

Sari sniffed as she glared daggers at the large robot. “What are you talking about? Are you telling me that it was your plan to wipe out my planet; to kill all of my friends?!”

“It was not so much part of my plan so much as something that I had to allow to happen,” Beast Megatron replied. “Sometimes, in order to fix something, you have to break it further.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying that it’s not too late to fix this. In fact, I know exactly how to fix it.” The Predacon leader grinned. “And you’re going to help me. It’s not like you’re in any position to refuse, anyway.”

Sari took in a shuddering breath but said nothing. She did not want to give him the satisfaction of a response.

Beast Megatron continued to stare at her for a moment before straightening up. “Dinobot, is the transwarp drive ready?”

“Yes, my liege.”

“Then take us away. The fate of the universe rests in our hands. Yessss.”

The leader of the Predacons erupted into laughter as Sari retreated her face further into her knees, not even noticing as the Darksyde’s transwarp drive roared to life and took her and her newfound “crewmates” through space and time.

TO BE CONCLUDED

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XV, Chapter Twelve

 CHAPTER TWELVE

Springer couldn’t feel his legs. It took him a moment to realize that the reason for that was because his legs were several feet away from where the rest of his body was. Groaning, he struggled to either sit up or flip himself around, only to be pinned down by a large metal foot.

“It’s over, Wrecker,” Sixshot said, pointing a white-barreled gun at his face. “You’ve lost.”

Springer laid his head down in defeat. Tilting it to one side to look past Sixshot, he saw visual proof that supported the Six Changer’s words. Kup was on his knees with his hands held behind his head, surrounded by Seekers with their null-rays pointed at him. The Jumpstarters had also been subdued by the Combaticons, while Whirl had been rendered a mangled mess by Killmaster. From where he was, he couldn’t see where Punch and Sandstorm were, but he doubted that they were in any better condition.

Suddenly, a silver and red jet streaked overhead and transformed into a Seeker-type robot, landing atop a nearby building. Springer groaned quietly, instantly recognizing the Decepticon even before he heard their screeching voice.

“What are you waiting for, Sixshot?” Starscream called out. “Finish him! Finish them all and get it over with!”

Sixshot narrowed his optics but did not fire his gun, though he still kept it trained on Springer’s head. The latter wondered what was going through the Six Changer’s head as he seemed to wrestle with his inner thoughts. Springer was surprised it was even taking him this long to just pull the trigger and—

Out of nowhere, an orange and black figure jumped onto Sixshot’s back, grabbing onto the Six Changer’s arm and causing him to jerk the gun away from Springer.

“Sandstorm?” Springer exclaimed.

Sandstorm said nothing as he continued to wrestle with Sixshot, a look of determination fixed on his face. As he watched them struggle with each other, Springer felt himself be carefully dragged away and looked up to see Punch standing over him.

“Sorry for the delay,” Punch said quietly. “We had to get away from Quake and his buddies. In fact, they’re probably still on their way.”

“It’s no use, Punch,” Springer sighed. “We’re in no condition to escape. I can’t transform, Whirl’s a mangled mess, Kup and the Jumpstarters are still surrounded…. It’s over. There’s no hope for us.”

“I already called Elita and gave her our coordinates,” Punch said. “If she doesn’t send backup, then I’m sure Metroplex will get into range so that we can perform an orbital jump.”

Springer shook his head. “There’s no clearance for us to make an orbital jump. Not without taking some of the ‘Cons — including Sixshot — with us.”

“Then we’ll just have to have to hold out for a bit longer until—”

Before Punch could finish, Sixshot finally got a hold onto Sandstorm and wrenched him off his back, throwing him to the ground. He then turned his sights back onto Springer and Punch and aimed his two guns.

“…Until that.”

Without any hesitation this time, Sixshot pulled the triggers of his guns and fired. Punch started to pull Springer out of the line of fire just as the two beams of energy struck the ground, creating an explosion that sent both Wreckers flying.

As Springer hit the ground, he felt several pieces of his armor plating fall off. This time, he did not even look down at the damage. He knew it was all pointless anyway. All he could do was close his optics and wait for the end….

*  *  *

“I must admit,” Sensei Yoketron said, “that this is a most unusual case.”

The memory was fuzzy, owed to the fact that it was the first one in his databank. Standing to his left was a tall, lean bot with white, black, and gold armor-plating and a crowned helmet, while a white and black Autobot with door wings stood to his right.

“He is,” the latter said. “That is why I am entrusting him in your care. Secrecy is key.”

“I will do what I can, Prowl. You have my word.”

Yoketron then turned to Springer and extended a hand. The young Autobot moved to take it… and then the scene changed.

It was always like this, of course. For the life of him, he could never recall anything between his first meeting with Yoketron and his first assignment with the Heliobots. He always told people that he had been trained as a Cyber-Ninja, but had little to corroborate his claims besides his official data file. Other former students of Yoketron, such as Kick-Off and Tap-Out, did not recall having ever trained alongside someone named Springer. Granted, it was not unheard of for Yoketron to train bots in secret for one reason or another… but some things had never quite added up.

The scene changed and the memory became more clearer. He was standing before a group of Autobots, all with helicopter alternate modes.

“This is Springer,” Tomahawk was saying, placing a hand on Springer’s broad shoulder. “He’s going to be your new teammate.”

“’Springer,’ huh?” A red-and-gold bot crossed his arms. “Was ‘Jumper’ already taken?”

While some of the others chuckled, Tomahawk rolled his optics. “Save it, Over-Run. I don’t want any of you butting heads with him or treating him any differently. Rookie or not, he’s still as much as an Autobot as any of you.”

“Welcome to the fore, Springer.” An orange-and-blue Heliobot stepped forward and offered his hand to Springer, which the young green bot shook. “My name’s Evac. Don’t let Over-Run scare you; he treats everyone like scrap.”

Over-Run huffed indignantly. “Leave it to Evac to suck on Tomahawk’s tailpipe,” he muttered. “You’re just vying for that command position, aren’t you, Golden Boy?”

“That’s enough!” Tomahawk barked. “We’re due for a mission to Sansaw Sanserre. Intel thinks that the ‘Cons have an outpost set up near the hot spot of that region.”

The memory changed again before Springer could hear the rest of Tomahawk’s orders. More memories passed by in quick succession: his first mission at Sansaw Sanserre, his fateful mission at the Toxic Sludge Swamps where he first met Impactor, his subsequent recruitment into the Wreckers… they all felt like they had been mere days ago. In retrospect, centuries seemed to pass more like minutes.

When Pova came up, he forced his mind to skip past it. He did not want to relive that day. Not ever.

Suddenly, he was back on Cybertron. No not Cybertron. He was on the Xantium, standing in one of the medical bays.  And he was screaming.

“WHRIL! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

The one-eyed blue Autobot spun around to look at him, his single yellow optic wide as he held some sort of clawed advice, removing it from Twin Twist’s chest. There was shame in Whirl’s gaze, but it was more out of guilt from being caught rather than from performing the action itself.

“They were already dead, Springer,” Whirl said quietly. “I was just helping them pass peacefully.”

“They still had life in them!” Springer roared. He rushed over to the scene and looked down in despair at Topspin’s colorless body. “They still… Kup said that they could still be brought back online once Ratchet had a look at them.”

“Yeah, well, Kup isn’t a doctor, is he?” Whirl snapped. “Look, they were already suffering as it is. Even if Ratchet or someone brought one of them back, that wouldn’t mean anything if he couldn’t bring them both back. You know about their condition, don’t you?”

Springer seethed with rage as he grabbed the device in Whirl’s claws and wrenched it out of his grasp, nearly tearing off the other Wrecker’s arm in the process. “Get out of my sight,” he snarled.

“Is that it then? Just like that? You’re giving me the veto?”

“I SAID, GET OUT!” Springer lunged at Whirl and then… nothing. Everything else was a blur. Obscured by nothing more than blind rage.

Everything else after this point was nothing pleasant. Just more deaths. More failures.

Nothing worth remembering.

*  *  *

It was a desperate ploy, Sandstorm knew. The odds of it accomplishing anything were against him, most likely. But at this point, it was the least he could do.

He knew it wouldn’t atone for what he did. It wouldn’t make up for him killing Stratotronic or Skram or Blitz. It wouldn’t make up for the list of other Autobots he had planned to murder before he was caught. It wouldn’t make up for the deal he had made with Magmatron to attain rulership over Paradron. It wouldn’t make up for any of those things.

But it was the least he could do.

As Sixshot stormed towards Springer, who lay battered and broken even worse than before, Sandstorm scrambled to his feet and charged towards the Six Changer, ramming himself into the giant’s back. While it hardly did anything to knock the Decepticon off balance, it did divert his attention away from Springer and towards Sandstorm.

“Knew I should have finished you off when I had the chance,” Sixshot growled as he pointed his gun at the Triple Changer.

Sandstorm knew there was no point in any further acts of valiance. He could only hope that Punch and the others would use this as an opportunity to buy themselves a few more minutes of living, for all that it was worth.

He closed his optics as Sixshot fired his gun once. Then twice. Then several more times until he lost count and all of his systems shut offline for good.

*  *  *

“Punch? This is Elita. Do you read me?”

Punch could feel his whole body shake as he watched Sandstorm’s mess of a corpse collapse onto the ground. “Y-yeah,” he responded, not bothering to steady his voice.

“We’ve placed Metroplex in range,” Elita went on. “Get ready for an orbital jump.”

“I’m not sure that’s gonna be a good idea,” Punch said. “We’re surrounded by ‘Cons and you might end up taking a few of them with us.”

“Brainstorm’s already figured a work around for that. So he says, at least. Is Springer with you? He’s not responding to my calls.”

“Yeah.” Punch looked down at the mangled Springer, barely clinging onto life. “Yeah, he’s with me.”

“Then get ready. We’ve already got a lock on Kup and the Jumpstarters.”

Punch braced himself as he grabbed onto Springer by the shoulder. Sixshot had returned his attention to them now and was starting to storm towards them again. He looked across the battlefield and locked eyes with Kup, whose face was an unreadable grimace.

Just as the Six Changer closed in on them, there was a flash of energy and Punch could feel himself being pulled up through a beam of light. Before he knew it, he was laying on metal flooring and the scenery of Decepticon City had been replaced by the metal halls of Metroplex’s interior.

“See? I told you it would work!” said Brainstorm, standing at a nearby control station. “Honestly, Wheeljack should ask me to—”

“Somebody get a medic!” Elita-One exclaimed. “We’ve got injured!”

While other Autobots rushed forward to retrieve the injured Springer, Whirl, and the Jumpstarters, Elita walked over to Punch as he got up on his feet.

“I have no idea if you were roped into this against your will or not,” she started to say. “In any case, any reprimands will have to wait. We have bigger matters to attend to.”

“Of course we do,” Punch muttered. “What kind of matters?”

“The Predacons are up to something down below,” Elita explained. “The Maximals are currently in pursuit; once they’ve located them, they’ll send us the coordinates and we’ll head down to lend a hand.”

“The fun just never ends, does it?” Punch said dryly.

“No. No, it doesn’t.”

*  *  *

“You idiot!” Starscream screeched. “Why didn’t you kill them all when you had the chance?!”

“Enough, Starscream.” Megatron descended down onto the now-empty battlefield, having observed everything from the sky above. His formidable silver and black form strode over to Sixshot, who stood in the place where Springer and Punch had just been beamed away.

“You have proved yourself well, Sixshot,” the Decepticon leader said to the Six Changer. “Now that the inconvenience has been dealt with, we can tackle the issue of Scorponok and his schemes.”

Sixshot bowed his head. “Of course, Lord Megatron. I live only to serve—”

“Lord Megatron!” The cry came from Skywarp, pointing at the central tower of Trypticon’s city mode. “Look!”

Megatron turned to look in the direction Skywarp was pointing… and froze. Standing atop of the tower were four mechanical beings with varying body types. One was large and bulky, with multiple spikes protruding from their body; another had a serpentine form with a feminine upper body atop a snake-like lower half; the third one had the build of a centaur, with a sword already drawn. The fourth one, standing in the center, stood tall and proud, emerald wings folded behind them like a regal cape.

He would have recognized them anywhere. Even if it had been over a thousand years since he had last seen them.

“Impossible,” he murmured. “This… this must be some sort of trick. I defeated them! I saw to their imprisonment!”

“Defeated us, Optronix?” The lead figure descended down from the tower, landing several feet away from Megatron. Despite the distance, Lord Imperious Delirious’ voice could be heard throughout the city. “It was not you who dealt the defeating blow. That honor goes to the Logicons, as much as I loathe those balloon-headed freaks.”

None of the Decepticons moved to stop the leader of the Destructons as he slowly made his approach towards Megatron. It was as if they were too frozen in fear to do anything, lest they suffer a fate worse than death.

“It would appear you have not been informed of our return,” Lord Imperious went on. “I apologize for keeping you out of the loop; we’ve had… other matters to attend to. I had thought that perhaps the Grand Architect would have informed you of your purpose here on Earth.”

“My… purpose?” Megatron repeated, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. “And what in the blazes is a ‘Grand Architect?’”

“Ah. So he didn’t contact you at all. Typical.” Lord Imperious sighed loudly in an over-dramatic fashion. “Oh, well. It doesn’t matter. Thankfully, you’ve done the wise thing and stayed put, rather than try and do anything drastic.”

“What are you talking about?” Megatron snarled. “What is going on here?!”

“It all has to do with the artifact that you have built your ‘city’ around,” Lord Imperious replied. “The Talisman, as you call it.”

“What about it?”

“If you would indulge me for a moment, I would like you to take me to where you are currently keeping it so that I may explain in better detail.”

“Do you take Lord Megatron for a fool?!” The massive Decepticon known as Lugnut stormed up, brandishing a large mace. “You shall not trick him so easily! If you wish to get close to him, then you must go through me!”

Lord Imperious gave him a disinterested glance before turning back to Megatron. “You’ve amassed quite a cult, I see. Clearly things haven’t changed much since our last encounter. Speaking of which, is the Convoy Corps still around these days?”

Megatron scowled but did not rise to the bait. “Why don’t you explain the Talisman to me here and now? Then I may consider taking you to it.”

Lord Imperious laughed. “You are not in any position to negotiate with me, Megatron. I shall do what I please; with or without any arbitrary conditions that you may try to conceive. In fact, I don’t even need to explain it to you at all. In just a few moments, you will all see for yourselves what purpose it serves in the greater scheme of things to come.”

“Enough with the riddles!” shouted Blitzwing. “I say we blast these guys to the Pit here and now!”

“You can try,” Lord Imperious said. “You will fail. As you should recall, it took a lot more than mere force to contain the four of us. I strongly doubt that you Decepticons will fare any better here.”

“We shall see about that!” Lugnut bellowed as he charged towards the Destructon, his mace raised high. 

Lord Imperious responded by reaching out and seizing him by the neck, lifting up the massive Decepticon with all of his might before throwing him back down to the ground, causing the ground to shake violently.

The other Decepticons stared on in shock before raising their weapons and, even as Megatron cried for them to stand down, opening fire. Bolts of lasers bounced off of Lord Imperious’ body effortlessly as he proceeded to stride across the field, making his way towards the chamber which held the Talisman. Sixshot moved to intercept him only to be knocked down as easily as Lugnut had been. Skywarp tried to teleport in front of him but was easily knocked aside. A sonic boom from Thundercracker did nothing to deter the Destructon, nor did a round of fire from Blitzwing’s tank barrel.

His mind racing, Megatron looked around until his optics landed on Killmaster, who was standing there motionlessly as he watched everything unfold.

“Killmaster! Use your wand to stop him!”

Killmaster glanced at the Decepticon leader but did not move from where he stood. Megatron snarled as he rolled his hands into fists.

“I command you! Do as I say!”

When Killmaster still did not move, Megatron cursed under his breath before readying his arm-mounted fusion cannon. “If you want something done at all….”

He raised his arm, pointing his weapon at Lord Imperious’ retreating back.

“Do it yourself.”

As the barrel of his fusion cannon started to glow, Lord Imperious slowly turned around to face him. The seams of the Destructon leader’s face started to hiss and split open, revealing an indescribable visage beneath it.

Just as Megatron fired his cannon, Lord Imperious — and everything else around him — vanished into thin air and the blast from the fusion cannon hurled into the void. Megatron let out a startled yell as he staggered back, whirling around to take in the empty void he now found himself in.

“WHAT IS GOING ON?” he roared. “WHERE AM I?”

“I just saved your life,” came a low voice as Killmaster suddenly materialized before him. “You should be grateful.”

“Grateful?!” Megatron retorted. “You did not stop Lord Imperious when you had the chance, when I ordered you too! Now you have stopped me from finishing him once and for all!”

Killmaster shook his head. “You wouldn’t have. You would have failed and he would have killed you. I couldn’t let that happen.”

“Then why didn’t you imprison Imperious here instead of me?”

“He and the other Destructons are no strangers to dimensional prisons like this one,” Killmaster explained. “He would have found a way out eventually and most likely end me in the process. Believe it or not, this is the preferable outcome.”

Megatron sneered at the massive Decepticon. “Preferable how?”

“Because at least in this scenario, we have a chance — however minuscule — of reversing what is about to come.”

“How do you even know what is going to happen? Are you some kind of prophet?”

“No,” Killmaster admitted. “I just know enough about the factors involved to accurately predict how events are going to proceed. If I had allowed you to be destroyed by Lord Imperious, then there would be no hope for the universe.”

“Stop speaking in riddles!” Megatron snapped. “Tell me what is going to happen!”

Killmaster lowered his head, his expression darkening. “The sacrifice which earned you the respect of a martyr is about to be made obsolete.”

“Sacrifice? What are you…?” Megatron paused for a moment, allowing the words to sink in. He reached through his memory banks and dragged up the one memory that best correlated with them. Then, his optics went wide.

“No,” he whispered. “Impossible. I… I destroyed him.” 

“You did,” Killmaster nodded. “But an entity such as the Chaos Bringer is not so easily defeated for good.”

The pulse of his newborn spark quickening, Megatron tilted his head up to look Killmaster in the eyes. “How… how can we stop him?”

The silence with which Killmaster responded was the worst answer the Decepticon leader could have ever received.

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XV, Chapter Eleven

 CHAPTER ELEVEN

“All right,” Sari said, standing at the mercy of Tarantulas. “You’ve got me. What do you want from me?”

The spider Predacon tittered in response. “Ah, compliance. Such a rare experience for me. Although, what assurance do I have that you will do as I ask once I explain things to you?”

“Seeing as how you’ve somehow gotten the ability to freeze time, there’s not really anything I can do besides whatever you’ve got in mind,” Sari replied, folding her arms. “So go ahead. Out with it.”

Again, that horrible cackle. “Oh, this is just too much for me. You are everything I could have hoped for and yet so much more.”

Sari raised an eyebrow behind her mask. “What do you mean?”

“Your independent mind,” Tarantulas replied. “Your free will. If I hadn’t known better, I never would have suspected you to be a lab-born experiment.”

“How do you know I’m a ‘lab-born experiment?’ Were you… were you involved in my creation?”

“Not to a great extent,” Tarantulas said. “I was secretly in touch with Scorponok — something which I hid from my ‘friends’ in the Secret Order — and he summoned me to Earth to provide some input on his operations. I provided him with some samples of the Obtenteum I had created from Shockwave’s Regenesis ore here on this planet which allowed him to craft the material needed to create the perfect techno-organic. I am pleased to see that such material has held up in the past nineteen years.”

“Yeah, so am I,” Sari muttered. “So, besides gushing over me, what exactly is it that you want me to do?”

“It’s rather simple, really,” Tarantulas cackled. “I want you to help me break reality.”

“Break reality… I’m sorry, what the hell does that even mean?”

“It means exactly what it sounds like it means. For some time now, I have been studying this Autobot we captured back in Verenya and I have since discovered that he was sent through time by the artifact we know as the Talisman. His mere existence has become a temporal anomaly. This — combined with all of the transwarp experiments that Decepticon and Autobot alike have dabbled in — has led me to believe that the very fabric of time and space of our universe has become threadbare and on the brink of collapse. The recent event of Unicron’s spirit being freed from the Dead Universe via the Grand Architect’s weapon has only further solidified my hypothesis.”

“Right,” Sari said carefully. “You lost me after the words ‘temporal anomaly.’ Can you just tell me how I’m supposed to factor into all this?”

Tarantulas growled in annoyance. “Perhaps if you weren’t so impatient and would let me finish,” he said. “I have come to the realization that my thoughts are perceived as nonsense by others, thus leaving me alone to be aware of this situation. Because of this, rather than try to fix the issue on my own, I have decided it would be better to compound the issue. That way, people will have no choice but to acknowledge the issue and do something to fix it… if they even have time to do so.”

Sari frowned. “So… you want to collapse the universe just so you can spite people you don’t like? Is that what you’re trying to get at?”

“More or less. That is where you come in, of course.”

Sari folded her arms. “How so?”

“The Predacon ship in the sky — they call it the Darksyde — carries a transwarp drive,” Tarantulas said, pointing at the clawed spacecraft in question. “I want you to sneak on board and use it to travel to a specified point in time. Once there, you will make a drastic change to history that will sufficiently disrupt the universe.”

“You can’t give me any more details?” Sari asked. “Like, which specific point in time are we talking about? What change am I making?”

“I will tell you once you are on board the ship,” Tarantulas replied. “I wouldn’t want you running off and blabbing about my plans to the Autobots, now would I?”

Sari sighed as she looked up at the Darksyde, frozen in place as everything else was. She already knew that she was not going to carry out Tarantulas’ plans; it was simply a matter of pretending to go along with him for long enough so that she could get the full details of his plan without actually executing it. How exactly she was going to go about that, she was not quite sure yet.

“All right,” she finally said after a moment. “I’ll do it.”

She cringed as Tarantulas erupted in another fit of maniacal laughter. “Excellent! Trust me, little one, you will be doing the universe a great favor by trusting me.”

In more ways than you know, eight eyes, Sari thought to herself.

*  *  *

“So,” Bulkhead said, “does anyone want to ask who invited him?”

Bumblebee grimaced as he and his fellow Autobots, along with their Maximal allies, all stared up at Onyx Prime, standing forebodingly at the top of Sumdac Tower. Even the Predacons had stopped fighting and were exchanging equal looks of confusion.

“What do we do?” he heard the Fuzor known as Quickstrike whisper. “He didn’t warn us about this.”

“Don’t do anything until we hear back from Megatron,” Dinobot growled back.

Bumblebee did not know what the Predacons were doing following Megatron all of a sudden, though he supposed he should not have been too surprised. Deciding not to dwell on it, he looked over to Primal Major.

“What should we do?” he asked. “Should we wait for him to make the first move?”

“Are ya’ kidding?” snapped Rattrap. “He’d annihilate us without so much as lifting a servo! I say we start shooting at him.”

“Wait,” Rhinox said, raising an emerald hand. “He’s starting to move.”

Indeed, Onyx Prime had started to crouch down and looked as if he was about to take flight. Without warning, Rattrap let out a cry and started shooting at the ancient Prime, though his blaster left little damage on Onyx’s ancient black armor plating. Just as Primal moved to disarm Rattrap and reprimand him, Onyx Prime jumped down from his perch and landed on the ground before them, tucking in his great orange wings.

“Lay down your weapons,” Onyx Prime growled softly. “I mean you no harm.”

“Like hell you don’t!” Rattrap cried, trying to wrestle his tiny arms out of Primal’s firm grasp. “What are you gonna do, brainwash us again! Over my cold, offline chassis!”

“I am not going to brainwash you. I just want to talk.”

“Go ahead, start talking,” said Cheetor, raising his own gun. “Just don’t say anything that will scratch my itchy trigger finger.”

“Stand down, all of you!” Primal barked. He then turned his attention to Onyx, his optical sensors narrowed. “What do you want, Onyx?”

“What I want has just been taken away from me,” the ancient Prime replied. “The Underbase has just been destroyed, ruining my plan to use it to end the dynasty I once considered myself to be a part of. Even if I do go through with executing Optimus or Rodimus or anyone else who still calls themselves a Prime, I will still be met with resistance and a new Prime will simply rise to take their place. It would ultimately be counterproductive.”

“What exactly changed your mind?” Primal asked. “Just a year ago, when we defeated Thunderwing and the Fallen, you seemed more than happy to allow Rodimus to carry the Matrix of Leadership and serve as Prime.”

“It was because of our conflict with Thunderwing and the Fallen that led me to change my mind,” Onyx Prime said. “During our pursuit of Liege Maximo, I realized just how dangerous the title of Prime was; how it fed into our egos and made us power-hungry. That much was demonstrated by Thunderwing, by the Fallen and Quintus, even by myself and Nexus initially. It was because of this realization that I withdrew myself from the pursuit and left Nexus and Convoy to their fates; as much as it pained me to do so, I knew their deaths would be better for the universe in the long run.”

“Is that why you are back in your original body and not in the gestalt created by the original five Predacons?” asked Rhinox. “Not to say you aren’t imposing as it is, but you are noticeably a lot… smaller than you were the last time you were on Earth.”

Onyx Prime nodded. “My body — this body — is ancient, and I knew it would not be sufficient for the conquest of Cybertron that Nexus and I had originally planned. With his help, I transferred my spark into a Prime Master which was then carried around by the Predacon leader Razorclaw without his knowledge. Once the Enigma of Combination was retrieved and Predaking was formed, I promptly took over their combined state.”

“Where is Predaking now, then?” asked Arcee.

Onyx Prime shrugged. “I left him to Liege Maximo’s mercy along with Nexus and Convoy. Primus knows what he has decided to do with him.”

“Speaking of which,” Primal said, “do you have anything to do with the bot running around calling himself ‘Primus?’ He also goes by the Grand Architect, if that rings any bells.”

Onyx Prime stiffened at this. “I… am aware of such an individual.”

“Not what I asked. We already know that Liege Maximo is working with him, and it’s pretty convenient that you abandoned your fellow Primes to Liege Maximo as soon as you got to Planet X where Primus was building his ‘God Gun’ or whatever it is called.”

“Enough!” Onyx Prime snarled before rolling his claws into fists. “Yes, I did inadvertently work with Liege Maximo and the Grand Architect. In fact, it was Maximo who helped solidify my decision to change my course of action. He reached out to me through a private connection, knowing that I was not as noble as Nexus or Convoy, and told me of the Grand Architect and his plans. He told me that Primus was planning on retaking control of Cybertron and abolishing the succession of leadership that was the Prime title. This already aligned with my shifting views and I agreed to help facilitate their endeavors.”

Primal frowned in confusion. “The Titan Masters told us they knew nothing about the Grand Architect and were simply following your will.”

“Of course they told you that. Seeing as how my schemes and Primus’ were more adjacent rather than interconnected, I saw no need to inform them of the higher power I was working with, although I’m sure Sovereign at the very least suspected a connection as events developed.”

“Well, I’m glad we cleared that up,” Rattrap said dryly. “So now that your precious Underbase is gone, what are you gonna do now? Run crying to Primus?”

Onyx Prime glared at the rodent Maximal and Primal opened his mouth to give Rattrap another reprimand when Cheetor tapped him on the shoulder.

“Big Bot! We’ve got company.”

Bumblebee joined Primal and the others in looking up towards the sky. Having joined the Darksyde was a blocky orange transport which was more in line with Autobot ship design than it was with Decepticon or Predacon design. The Darksyde itself made no move to stop the transport as it quickly made its descent. At the same time, the ship lowered its landing ramp to reveal a herd of beast-formers, all bearing the green Maximal insignia. At their forefront was a white and gold mech with a red chestplate and a helmet that bore an uncanny resemblance to that of Optimus Prime.

“Leo Prime?!” Primal exclaimed. “What in the AllSpark’s name is he doing here?”

“Well, you did call for backup,” Cheetor pointed out.

“Don’t just stand around!” Dinobot snarled to his Predacons, who were still gawking in silence at both Onyx Prime and the new arrivals. “Shoot them down!”

As the Predacons started to open fire, Leo Prime and the Maximals began pouring out of the ship. While several of them returned fire with the Predacons, Leo Prime seemed to be ignoring both them and the astonished stares from Primal and his crew. In fact, as the former Maximal leader transformed into his lion form and let out a thunderous roar as he made his lunge, Bumblebee quickly realized exactly who his target was mere seconds before Leo Prime collided with Onyx Prime.

*  *  *

“Ah, and here we have the pretender,” Onyx Prime rumbled as he threw the attacking white lion off of him. “Here for another desperate play for power?”

“Shut up!” Leo Prime snarled, transforming back to his robot mode. “This has nothing to do with power or titles! This is for all of your lies and deceptions! For what you did to my people on this very planet!”

“’Your people?’ They’re not ‘your people,’ Cybertronian. They never were. They only followed you because of what you pretended to be, not for what you actually were.”

“Enough!” Leo Prime drew a large golden sword. “It doesn’t matter what you or anyone else thinks. I don’t even care how history remembers me as a person; so long as they remember me for what I did.”

“For constantly failing?” Onyx Prime chuckled. “I suppose they will.”

Leo Prime roared as he charged towards the ancient Prime, swinging his sword. Onyx crossed his arms to block the first wave of strikes, allowing the former Maximal leader to push him back a few steps. When Leo paused, Onyx chose then to lash out with his claws, delivering a series of slashes across the Maximal’s chest. He then grabbed the golden sword by the blade and wrenched it out of Leo Prime’s grasp, tossing it to the side.

“Pathetic,” the ancient Prime opined.

“I’ll show you pathetic,” Leo Prime retorted as he brandished a set of claws from his servos before pouncing onto Onyx. He proceeded to claw at Onyx’s face, wrestling against his foe whenever the older Prime attempted to grab his arms or push him off. Upon seeing an opening in Onyx’s neck, Leo seized on the opportunity and plunged his claws into the space beneath Onyx’s head, eliciting a pained cry from the dragon. Leo Prime savored the sound as he pushed his claws deeper.

“How does it feel?” the former Maximal leader whispered into his audio sensor. “To be knocked down several pegs from your high-and-mighty pedestal?”

“You tell me,” Onyx growled back. He then grabbed onto Leo by the back and used all of his might to lift him up, extracting the claws from his neck in the process. This brought back another wave of pain to the ancient Prime, causing him to lose his grip on Leo as he started to cough and sputter energon.

As Leo Prime got back to his feet and prepared to make another strike, he heard a familiar voice call out his name. He looked over to see Primal Major standing there, weapons drawn but none of them aimed at him.

“I know I’m not the first face you want to see right now,” Leo Prime muttered, looking away from his successor. “I promise you that I’m not here to usurp command from you or anything like that.”

“Actually, I was going to lend you a hand,” Primal replied. “Any grievances I have towards you can wait; defeating Onyx Prime and the Predacons takes priority.”

Leo Prime smiled slightly beneath his mouthplate. “You’re a better leader than I could ever be, Primal,” he said quietly. “Perhaps you’re even more worthy of the name Prime than I am.”

“Neither of you are worthy of anything,” Onyx Prime rumbled as he rose back up, energon still leaking from the gash in his neck. “Least of all the title of Prime.”

“Fine by me,” said Primal, brandishing a pair of swords. “Handing your aft to you will be satisfaction enough.”

Onyx narrowed his eyes at the two Maximal leaders, now standing side-by-side and ready for battle. “Such insolence.”

He then transformed into his dragon mode — a process which sounded painful in and of itself — before charging towards the pair. Unable to breathe fire any longer, the dragon instead settled for lashing out its head with its long neck and snapping at Primal. The primate Maximal managed to roll out of the way in time as he swept his swords in a smooth motion, cleanly severing Onyx’s right wing at the hinge. As the dragon howled in pain, Leo Prime retrieved his own sword and moved to cut off the left one only to be knocked aside by the one-winged beast’s tail.

“I cannot end like this!” Onyx Prime bellowed. “I refuse to fall before a pretender Prime and his accomplice!”

“Fine,” Leo Prime grunted as he got back to his feet once more. “You don’t want to be humiliated? Then look at things this way: You are not fighting Leo Prime, leader of the Maximals. Nor are you fighting Leo Prime, self-proclaimed Beast King of Eukaris.”

He gripped his sword with both hands, his optics blazing like a pair of blue suns.

“You are fighting Lio Convoy, the first resistor.”

The dragon’s eyes went wide as Lio Convoy charged towards it and brought his sword down not onto its last remaining wing but onto its neck. Its encounter with the late Kicker Jones had left the armor plating connecting the dragon’s head to the rest of its body weak and vulnerable, making it easier for the golden blade to cut through it and severe the beast’s head.

An agonized scream reverberated from deep within the dragon as it changed shape one last time into Onyx Prime’s robot form. While far from fatal, the loss of his beast mode head had left the ancient Prime disoriented and in intense pain, unable to get a grip on his surroundings. Lio Convoy quickly took advantage of this opportunity and drove his sword straight into Onyx Prime’s chest, piercing straight into his spark chamber.

Onyx’s optic flashed for a second before dimming. Lio Convoy held onto the sword handle as the ancient Prime collapsed onto his knees, energon beginning to seep from his wound.

“Convoy…” Onyx Prime coughed, splattering purple fluids on the Maximal’s chestplate. “Should have… figured….”

Slowly and carefully, Lio Convoy pulled the sword out of Onyx Prime’s chest. The ancient Prime moved to clutch his wound but was too weak to so much as shift a piston. Instead, he used the last of his energy to lift his head up to look into his slayer’s optics one last time.

“Savor your feeling… of triumph. I am not… the greater threat… that you have to—”

Whatever else Onyx Prime had to say was to cut off short as all life fled from his optical sensors and he collapsed onto the ground. The ground shuddered slightly from the impact, then went still.

As Lio Convoy stood over the body of the fallen dragon, Primal came up to stand beside him. Sheathing his swords, the leader of the Maximals placed a hand on his predecessor’s shoulder and allowed himself a small smile.

“Credit where it’s due,” he said. “That was impressive.”

“Does this absolve me in your eyes?” Lio Convoy asked.

“We’ll see,” Primal replied. “Come on. We’ve still got work to do.”

*  *  *

It was done. Onyx Prime was dead.

Beast Megatron had watched the action unfold from the safety of the Darksyde. His plan had worked and events had developed exactly as he had foreseen them. While there was still much more to be done, he was comforted by the fact that things were proceeding smoothly so far. Now it was time for the next step.

“Predacons,” he spoke into his comm unit. “Return to the Darksyde at once.”

“What?!” Dinobot responded. “But the Maximals are still here! They’ve just killed Onyx Prime!”

“Yes, and they will be dealt with in due time. But first, we must proceed to the next item on the agenda.”

“What about Tarantulas? You said he would be here.”

Beast Megatron smiled to himself. “Indeed I did. I did not say we were done yet, Dinobot. Please exercise some patience for once.”

He heard the saurian Predacon snarl but nonetheless acquiesce to the command before ending the call. Down below, the Predacons started to transform, with those capable of flight picking up those who were not. Some of the Maximals moved to stop them but were stalled by their leader. No doubt Primal was trying to display mercy after having just helped in killing the once and former ruler of the beasts.

Beast Megatron sneered in disgust. Typical heroic nonsense.

Once the Predacons were all aboard, Beast Megatron punched in a few commands and the Darksyde shot off for its next destination.

*  *  *

“Man, and just when I was starting to get warmed up!” groused the Maximal known as B'Boom as the Predacon ship took off. “Talk about anti-climatic.”

“We should probably follow them,” suggested Arcee. “I doubt they’re up to anything good; their presence here may very well have been a ruse.”

“Hey, at least we got something accomplished,” Rattrap said, kicking Onyx Prime’s lifeless corpse. “Not for nothing, but I’d say slaying one of the first Primes is a pretty impressive feat.”

“It’s been done before,” Rhinox reminded him. “Besides, the Thirteen were never demigods or any of the sort; just ordinary mechs like you or me.”

“Eh… ‘ordinary’ is a weird way of putting it.”

“There’s no time for this,” Primal said. “We should head back to the Axalon and chase after them.”

“Wait!” Bumblebee said. “We need to find Sari and Kicker! They were in the tower when it… when Onyx Prime showed up….”

A winged Maximal Fuzor promptly stepped up and picked up the yellow Autobot, flying him up to the opening in the top of the tower where Onyx Prime had made his appearance. As Silverbolt set Bumblebee down, the latter immediately spotted a young human woman with dark hair, who was looking around in distress and confusion.

“Verity?” Bumblebee asked. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s a long story,” Verity muttered. “I met up with Sari and her boyfriend or whatever and they just… he just sacrificed himself or something and Sari—”

“Where is she?” Bumblebee cut her off. “What happened?”

“I don’t know! She was right here a minute ago and then… then poof! She was gone! I have no idea where she is!”

Bumblebee grimaced. He looked around the ruins of the room they were in, but he knew there was no point to doing so. Wherever Sari was, it was certainly not here.

This, he decided, was starting to become an annoying habit of hers.

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XV, Chapter Ten

 CHAPTER TEN

It had been many years since Counterpunch was last among his own kind.

It was surreal seeing so many familiar face, bringing back memories that he had suppressed for so long. More than a few had served alongside him during such battles as Sectus Four, Gravett Tau…

Athenia.

Counterpunch shook his head, pushing back the unwanted memories. He needed to focus on the here and now, rather than dwell on the past.

He continued to push his way through the Decepticon camp of Verenya, though at this point it might as well have earned the name “Decepticon City.” The immobile alternate mode of Trypticon dominated the once-human inhabited city, with Decepticons freely moving from one building to another. It was as if they had been living here for all their lives. Of course, that might have been the point; if Megatron was recommitted to being an evil tyrant as he appeared to be, then it was likely in his endgame to make Earth another colony for the Decepticon Empire.

After walking past a pair of Seekers, who both gave him a second glance which made him feel uneasy, Counterpunch glanced at the Autobot “prisoner” he was escorting. While Sandstorm had since regained consciousness, he was still out of it for the most part and was walking in some sort of daze, requiring Counterpunch to guide him for reasons other than to keep up the charade they were pulling. He could only hope that no one would try to stop and question them before they got to where they needed to be.

As they neared their destination — the central purple tower of Trypticon’s city form — Counterpunch spotted an entourage of heavily armed guards standing near the entrance. After taking a moment to steel himself, he proceeded to make his approach until he was brought to a halt by the lead guard.

“Stop right there,” growled the bulky blue and maroon Decepticon. Counterpunch believed his name was Quake. “What is your purpose here?”

“I caught this Autobot sneaking out on the outer perimeter,” Counterpunch replied. “He took quite the beating, but I managed to subdue him.”

Quake narrowed his optics, a scowl crossing his gold face. “What’s your ID number?”

“D-111.” At this point, he already knew it was over. “I believe we’ve met before. Weren’t you at the Battle of Dormanus Five?”

“Yeah. I remember you,” Quake grunted. “What was your name again? Puntercounch or something?”

“Counterpunch. Glad to see you’re still in the land of moving parts. Can I go in now?”

“I don’t think so.” Quake tilted his head slightly as a large cannon lowered from his back onto his shoulder. At the same time, the rest of his guards raised their own weapons. “You see, we Decepticons don’t take too kindly to being played at our own game. And when you Autobots try to pull the same trick again, after having already been caught the first time… it’s a bit insulting, to say the least.”

Counterpunch shrugged. “Fair enough. To be perfectly honest, this wasn’t so much a deception….”

In the distance, an explosion went off. It was quickly followed by angry screams and the sound of blaster fire being exchanged.

“…so much as a distraction.”

*  *  *

“I must admit,” Megatron said as he stared down at the massive Decepticon warrior kneeling before him. “I would not have expected this from someone like you, Sixshot.”

“My loyalty to you is unquestionable, Lord Megatron,” Sixshot replied, his head bowed. “Besides, I know better than to even think of turning against you, given the failsafes you have installed in soldiers like myself.”

Megatron allowed himself a smirk. “Indeed. Even so, I’m surprised Scorponok did not take that into consideration when he sent you to assassinate me.”

“In the brief interaction I had with him after he awakened me, I was given the impression that Scorponok has gotten desperate in his schemes. I’m not entirely sure what he has gotten up to in the past hundred years after he put me in stasis, but I would wager a guess that he has been largely unsuccessful in his endeavors.”

Megatron chuckled. “I agree with your assessment. To be honest, Scorponok’s machinations have been rather entertaining to a point. However, I believe he has long since outlived his usefulness to me in any capacity. Perhaps it is time to—”

The Decepticon leader was cut off by an alarm going off. As he rose from his throne, a nearby viewscreen lit up to display Soundwave’s face.

“Lord Megatron, we appear to be under attack.”

“Is it the Autobots?” Megatron asked.

“Affirmative. There appears to be seven of them. Visuals indicate that they are members of the Wreckers.”

Sixshot straightened up at this. “I encountered them on the way here. I shot down one of them into the ocean; I had thought that would have dissuaded them from pursuing me.”

“From what I know of them, very little dissuades the Wreckers from doing what they want to do,” Megatron muttered. “Even Prime has difficulty keeping a leash on them.”

“Shall I finish the job then?”

“Yes,” Megatron said without a moment’s hesitation. “Wipe them out. All of them.”

*  *  *

“Do you know if Punch and Sandstorm made it inside?”

“No idea, Kup,” Springer said as he slashed a Vehicon across the chest with his sword.

“Do you know if they‘re even still alive?”

“Again, no idea.”

Kup glared at him as he pummeled a Seeker in the face. “Then what the hell was the point of this god-forsaken plan?!”

“Sandstorm’s in no condition to fight, so I needed to get him out of harm’s way.” Springer transformed into his helicopter form and began strafing along a row of Decepticons that had just lined up to attack him. “Also Punch, because he’s not built like the rest of us and he probably would have complained about the whole situation.”

“Oh, like I’m doing now?” Kup retorted.

“From you, I’m used to it by this point.”

Kup rolled his eyes but decided to keep his focus on the situation at hand. Whirl had already gone off on a shooting spree while Topspin and Twin Twist were tag-teaming against a bunch of Combaticons. To say that the Wreckers were vastly outnumbers would have been an understatement. In fact, Springer was likely well aware of that fact and knew that the chances of them all getting out of this one alive were astronomically slim. Still, he would have felt better about it if he knew what Springer’s end goal even was.

“Well, look what the garbage-bot dragged in today!”

Kup looked over to see a tan and purple tank rolling across the battlefield. “Blitzwing,” he muttered. “I’ll be honest, I kind of expected better of you. Out of all the ‘Cons, you were one of the very few I respected. I thought for sure you would have stuck with us even after Megatron came back.”

“You don’t know me, old timer,” Blitzwing growled. “My reasons for remaining loyal to my kind are mine alone. Don’t expect me to change just make you happy.”

With that, the tank fired a round from its barrel. Kup dodged before transforming into his truck mode and accelerating towards the Decepticon. Blitzwing continued to fire even as Kup transformed again and grabbed onto the tank’s barrel, spinning himself onto the tank. He then forcibly turned the turret as it fired again, blasting away some of the other Decepticons.

“Still pulling your old tricks, I see,” Blitzwing chuckled. “I guess some things never change.”

“Save it for your memoirs, old friend,” Kup said quietly.

*  *  *

“Nemesis! We meet again!”

Killmaster regarded the blue helicopter attacking him with a look of utter disinterest. Whirl didn’t care. He wasn’t doing this for the recognition or the glory. He was doing this to tie up loose ends.

Not so long ago, he would have been going about this with a lot more of a dramatic flair, as he usually did whenever he encountered his self-proclaimed “arch-nemesis” on the battlefield. Of course, their rivalry had always been a superficial one at best; as far as he knew, Killmaster had never reciprocated in declaring him to be his arch-nemesis in turn. Indeed, Whirl had simply given him that title because, to be perfectly honest, no one else fit the bill. 

During the Wreckers’ campaign against Squadron X, the others had their arch-enemies. Impactor had Macabre, Roadbuster had Earthquake, Twin Twist had Fang… but Whirl never had any personal grudge against any of them. In his eye, they were nothing more than generic mooks that didn’t stand out from any other Decepticon. Thus, when he first encountered Killmaster during the war and lost his single optical sensor to the Warrior Elite, Whirl had latched onto that like a cyber-moth to a light. At last, he had finally found the Megatron to his Optimus Prime.

Then, ten years later, Killmaster vanished during the Battle of Luna 2, depriving Whirl of ever taking his revenge. That was basically the story of his life; any time he wanted something, it was taken away from him just like that.

His home. His business. His face. His hands. He was lucky he even still had his life. And yet, people wondered why he was “messed up in the head.”

Maybe if the universe didn’t constantly treat me like crap, I wouldn’t have turned out this way.

But now that Killmaster had somehow returned from wherever the hell he had been for the past five hundred years, Whirl could finally check off the last thing on his personal “bucket list;” something that would give him even the slightest semblance of happiness. Ever since Cyclonus had died, a void had been left in his life. This would finally give him a chance to fill that void, if only for a moment.

Whirl rammed himself into Killmaster, thought the massive Decepticon was barely pushed back an inch. He then transformed to his robot mode and performed a back flip, landing a mere few feet from the purple and gold giant as he deployed his guns.

“I hope you enjoyed your five-century-long nap, ‘cos after I’m done with you, you’ll be taking a permanent slumber!” Whirl said. “Any last words before I put you down for good?”

Killmaster stared down at him, the expression on his monstrous face unreadable. Whirl was about to interject with another quip when his nemesis finally spoke, his rough voice reverberating loudly.

“How’s your eye?”

Whirl froze up, forgetting all sense of grandeur. “Wh-what?”

“I admit, more time has passed for you than it has for me,” Killmaster went on. “Still, it’s hard to forget the way you reacted when I tore out your optical sensor. Should have known that’d be a touch subject for you.”

“You… you remember…?”

“Like I said, it’s been five hundred years for you but only ten for me. I don’t blame you if—”

“You remembered,” Whirl said quietly. “After all this time… you remembered.”

As difficult as it was to distinguish a particular emotion from Killmaster’s face, the look in his eyes was definitely one of bemusement. “Are you… surprised?”

“Dude, you’ve just made me the happiest I’ve been in my two thousand years of being online. Thank you.”

“Er… your welcome, I guess.” Killmaster raised his wand, which started to spark with energy. “I’m still going to kill you, you know.”

“Yeah. I know.” Whirl then raised his guns and opened fire.

*  *  *

“Wreckers. Why did it have to be Wreckers?”

Viral and Fearstorm watched from afar as their fellow Decepticons continued to defend their city against their Autobot attackers with varying results. Despite being vastly outnumbered, the Wreckers were making a pretty decent stand against their foes; Viral was almost surprised that they had even lasted this long. He knew they wouldn’t last forever, though.

“What are we waiting for?” Fearstorm asked, already drawing his gun. “Shouldn’t we join in?”

Viral raised a hand to stall his companion but said nothing. Mere moments later, a massive green and purple tank emerged from the central tower of the city, rolling quickly onto the battlefield.

“Is that… Sixshot?” Fearstorm exclaimed.

“Seems like everyone’s been returning from the dead lately,” Viral wryly remarked.

The pair watched as Sixshot approached the Wreckers, firing his guns. The two Jumpstarters were instantly blasted away while Springer managed to avoid the tank’s rounds. The leader of the Wreckers then advanced towards Sixshot in his helicopter form, firing away, just as the Six Changer converted into his mechanical beast form. The robotic wolf proceeded to leap at Springer, colliding with the helicopter and sending them both crashing back down to the ground.

“They’re dead,” Fearstorm murmured. “They are so dead. Sixshot is going to slaughter them.”

Viral glanced at him. “You sound scared.”

“Of course not!” Fearstorm snapped. “I’m simply… mesmerized. You’ve heard the stories, haven’t you? The Wreckers have been a thorn in our side for millennia, since the First War! And now… now they’re going to finally meet their end.”

Viral found it difficult to argue with that. Already Sixshot was pummeling Springer into the ground, giving the green-and-yellow Autobot hardly any opportunity to fight back. The two Jumpstarters were still down for the count, with the Combaticons Brawl and Vortex standing over them. Kup had just been knocked off of Blitzwing by a teleporting Skywarp and was now surrounded by a variety of Seekers. The one known as Whirl was currently in a struggle with Killmaster, one which he was likely to desperately fail in if Killmaster was as invincible as his reputation suggested he was. There was no sign of the last two Autobots that were reported to be among the seven Wreckers, but Viral doubted they were faring any better than the other five.

This was truly it. This was the last stand of the Wreckers.

And he couldn’t stand to watch it.

Without a second thought, without even a single word of farewell to Fearstorm, Viral activated his transwarp drive and teleported away. The sight of what was about to become the Wreckers’ inevitable demise vanished from view and was instantly replaced by the dark interior of Megatron’s throne room. After adjusting his optical sensors to the lack of lighting, Viral turned around to see the only other functioning Cybertronian in the room with him.

“You,” said the disembodied head of Shockwave.

“Where is Lord Megatron?” Viral asked.

“Observing the battle outside,” Shockwave replied. “Why are you here? To mock my current physical state, perhaps?”

“Under vastly different circumstances, perhaps I would,” Viral said. “As it stands however, I am here only to settle things between us once and for all.”

“You’re here to kill me, then?”

“No. I’m here for answers.”

Shockwave’s single optic stared up at him, unblinking. “Of course you are. That is all anyone seeks from me these days.”

“Perhaps if you did not act the way you do, you would not leave behind such burgeoning questions in your wake,” Viral dryly remarked. “In any case, my question is a simple one.”

“Out with it, then. Megatron may return at any moment.”

“You’ve told the Autobots about the Regenesis ores,” Viral began. “Are there any more secrets that you’ve been keeping from everyone, or has everything been aired out?”

“If I answer no,” Shockwave said, “and you do not believe me, how will you go about getting the truth from me? There is nothing of value that you could possibly offer me in exchange for any secrets I may be keeping.”

“Not even restoring you to your body?” Viral asked.

This got a reaction from the bodiless Decepticon as Shockwave’s single optic flashed briefly. “You would not do that. Given your grudge towards me, it would be illogical for you to do anything that would benefit me.”

“Not your Decepticon body,” Viral said. “Your old body. When you were a member of the High Council. Before Megatron put your spark in Shockblast’s body.”

Again, Shockwave went quiet at that. “You are… aware of that?”

“My brief stint as ‘the Necrobot’ gave me some insight into people’s backstories, including yours. In fact, I still have the transwarp drive I used to rescue some others on the original Necrobot’s list of the Disappeared. I could rewind the clock and set things back to how they used to be.”

“Impossible,” Shockwave said firmly. “You cannot change the past. That is what I learned from the Sigma Project and all other experiments with time travel. The most you can do is to simply ensure events that have already happened happen, but you cannot prevent them from happening.”

“What about the future then? I would imagine I could have some effect on the future, or else you never would have sent me and Windtrail on our mission.”

“Perhaps,” Shockwave admitted. “I imagine you could influence events enough to make a particular future inevitable. But the point is moot. I have since come to the conclusion that the invention of transwarp technology, and by extension its use to travel through time, was a mistake. The fabric of time and space is not something to be played with.”

“You speak as if from experience,” Viral said. “Have you yourself done something with transwarp technology that has brought you to this conclusion?”

“Irrelevant. What is done is done. If you value stability for the universe, I suggest you rid yourself of your transwarp drive for good.”

Viral laughed. “As if you’re in any position to stop me anymore. Besides, if you cared for the stability of the universe, you wouldn’t be keeping the secrets that you carry.”

“Believe what you will,” Shockwave said. “It means nothing to me.”

“That’s it, then? No vague allusions? No cryptic warnings? No parting words of wisdom from my old teacher?”

“I have nothing left to impart onto you.”

“Then I suppose this is goodbye.” Viral raised his arm, straightening and flattening it to form a blade-like appendage. “Thank you, Shockwave, in spite of everything. I will remember you as you were.”

He then brought the blade down and Shockwave departed from the material world without a single word. After he had pulled his blade out of his former mentor’s disembodied cranium and wiped it clean of energon, Viral turned away from the gruesome results and activated his transwarp drive once more, vanishing out of the room as quickly as he had arrived.

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XV, Chapter Nine

EDITED 5/23/2021 Changed the end of the last scene to not make the story even more convoluted as it is....

CHAPTER NINE

“This is why I hate machines.”

It was all Captain Fanzone could say to himself to make sense of the chaos unfolding before his very own eyes. When he had gotten a call to Sumdac Tower (or Onyx Tower or whatever it was now), he had a feeling in his gut that it would have something to do with robots; it wouldn’t have been the first time Isaac Sumdac’s inventions had gotten out of hand, at least in Fanzone’s many years in the force. However, as soon as he and his boys got to the scene of the crime, he could already tell that these weren’t Sumdac’s usual inventions.

The first thing that tipped him off was the giant gorilla wrestling with a velociraptor. At first he thought that this was all the result of a breakout at the zoo as well as the attractions at the local amusement park going haywire. But then the gorilla deployed a pair of guns from its wrist and fired them into the raptor’s face, eliciting an angered shriek before it fired laser beams from its eyes, scaring off the gorilla.

As if that wasn’t enough, not that far away a rhinoceros was charging through a horde of giant bugs, among them a fire ant that changed shape into a humanoid robot and drew a pair of blasters, unloading them on the horned beast. Then there was the giant rat having it out with a scorpion with a cobra for a tail… and then there were the giant spiders.

It was all too much for Fanzone to handle. He felt like he was having a fever dream.

“Sir?” One of his officers shook him by the shoulder, rousing him from his stupor. “What are your orders?”

Shaking his head to clear his addled mind, Fanzone said, “Just do what you can to keep citizens out of harm’s way. Don’t provoke any of these… things unless told to.”

“Are we just going to let them fight?”

“For now,” Fanzone muttered. “At least until I call in the big guns….”

*  *  *

“You still don’t understand, do you?”

The only thing Sari knew she understood was to avoid the fire-breathing dragon at all costs. As she hurled two orbs of energy at the raging Onyx Prime, she flew over to Verity and moved the unarmored girl out of the way as the dragon unleashed a column of flames in their direction. While Kicker proceeded to strike at Onyx with his blade, Sari escorted Verity back out into her father’s office before closing the entrance and returning to the fight.

“In my age, there were dozens of Primes,” Onyx went on, swinging a tail at Kicker to knock him aside. “After the Quintessons were driven off Cybertron, many of us were eager to assert dominance over our own planet. We claimed the name ‘Prime’ as a title; it had been a designation used by the Quintessons to distinguish the best of the best from each ‘production line,’ though most people simply associated it with Primus to give it some semblance of divine meaning. Before long, you had Primes ruling over every corner of the planet.”

Unsheathing her arm blades, Sari lunged at the dragon and delivered a quick series of slashes to its face. A low growl rumbled from its throat as it snapped at her and she barely moved out of the way in time before she could be consumed by its mighty jaws.

“But that’s the problem with power. When you divide it between so many people, it’s only a matter of time before it gets to their heads and they start hungering for more. Before anyone knew it, fifty Primes had become twenty-six and twenty-six was soon whittled down to just thirteen.”

He unleashed another blast of fire from his maw, spreading all around the room. While Sari and Kicker managed to avoid it, the vats and machinery that occupied the room were not so lucky and were quickly beginning to melt. The Underbase remained unscathed however, continuing to light the room with its golden glow.

“I only claimed the title for myself out of necessity. To protect my own kind from those who would oppress them. In a perfect world, I would have spent all of my years as lonely shepherd, helping those in need of guidance. But we don’t live in a perfect world. We never have.”

“You realize that still makes you part of the problem you’re trying to solve, right?” Kicker said as he went in for another slash with his blade. “By calling yourself a Prime and everything.”

Onyx chuckled. “I am aware of that. It changes nothing.”

“So what happens when your plan doesn’t work out?” asked Sari. “If people don’t turn against Optimus Prime or Rodimus Prime like you think they will, what then?”

The dragon shrugged. “Then I’ll kill them. And anyone else who claims the title of Prime.”

“Then, what, you’ll kill yourself? Or are you thinking about getting a name change?”

“By the time I’m done, my name will be irrelevant. Only when the universe is rid of all Primes will I be able to rest and return to my simple life as ‘Onyx the Shepherd.’ But until then, I will proudly carry the title until it is properly done justice once and for all.”

“Oh. I get it now,” Kicker said. “You’re just a maniac. Gotcha.”

“Question my sanity, will you?” Onyx growled. “Then you may join your precious Primes in the AllSpark!”

Just as the dragon opened its mouth to release another breath of flame, Kicker dove in and drove his sword straight into the beast’s maw, striking something within. Onyx started making gagging sounds as Kicker drove his blade deeper and deeper. Suddenly, a small explosion erupted from the dragon’s mouth and Kicker was sent flying back, crashing into a wall. His sword clattered to the floor while sparks sputtered out from the dragon’s mouth.

“Im— impressive.” Metal clanged together as the dragon changed shape, taking on the form of a winged bipedal robot. “Perhaps I’ve underestimated you two. I’m sure you would have made excellent warriors under my command. It’s a shame I have to destroy you both.”

“Shame this,” Sari said as she flung two orbs of energy from her hands. They simultaneously struck Onyx Prime in the face, which was enough to push the ancient Transformer a step back. Not giving him a second to recover, she lunged and attacked him with her arm blades, slashing at his face in a flurry of motion. Onyx growled in irritation and moved to grab her only for her to move out of his reach.

“Your efforts are futile,” Onyx Prime rumbled. “Techno-organic or not, you are nonetheless susceptible to the same vulnerabilities as any other human. Sooner or later, you will become too tired to continue attack me and thus be left at my mercy.”

“He’s right,” Kicker said weakly from where he laid. “We can’t keep at this forever. Something has to give.”

“Well, we can’t give up now!” Sari protested. “There’s no way I’m backing down and letting him do whatever it is he plans to do.”

“You won’t have to.” Pulling himself up, Kicker retrieved his sword before levitating up into the air. “Besides… he can’t carry out his plans with the Underbase… if he doesn’t have an Underbase to work with.”

“What do you think you’re—” Onyx Prime’s eyes narrowed before widening in realization. “No. You wouldn’t. You don’t know what effect that would have!”

“I think have a pretty good idea,” Kicker said, turning to face the Underbase. “And it’s a price I’m willing to pay.”

“Kicker?” Sari said quietly. “What are you doing?”

“It’s been nice getting to know you, Sari,” Kicker replied as he raised his sword. “I’m sorry it had to come to this.”

“Wait, don’t—”

“NO!” Onyx Prime lunged forward, but it was too late. Kicker had already stabbed the Underbase with his blade and the entire world went white.

*  *  *

“Give up, Maximal!” Terrorsaur squawked as he clawed at Cheetor’s face with his talons. “We outnumber you! There is no hope for—”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before,” Cheetor snapped as he threw a fist into the red pteranodon’s face, knocking the Predacon to the ground. “We’ve dealt with you guys before and we’ll do it again ten times if we have to!”

“Don’t be so sure!” Terrorsaur cackled. “Our glorious leader has something up his servo. I have no idea what it is, but I’m sure it’s going to be stupendous!”

“That’s heartening to know,” Cheetor muttered before throwing another punch at Terrorsaur, leaving the pteranodon laying on the ground in a disoriented state. Turning away from the Predacon, Cheetor could not help but grimace as he beheld the scene around them. Indeed, the Predacons vastly outnumbered the Maximals and Autobots, with many of his comrades being forced to take on two or even three Preds at the same time. If this kept up, they were going to need reinforcements; otherwise, he had no idea how long they were going to last.

“Big Bot!” he called out to Primal, who had managed to subdue Dinobot for the time being. “Any chance we could call Elita for some backup?”

“Already tried that, Cheetor,” Primal replied. “I think the Predacons are scrambling communications.”

“Well, the way I see it, I don’t think we’re gonna last long against these guys,” Cheetor said, drawing his gun and firing on an earwig Predacon that had been trying to sneak up on him. “Dumb or not, they’ve still got the edge in numbers.”

“I wouldn’t give up just yet, Cheetor,” Primal said. “Not until we—”

He was abruptly cut off by an explosion of energy erupting from the nearby Sumdac Tower. The ground shook violently, causing the battle between Maximals and Predacons to come to a halt as yellow energy flashed all around them. Raising a hand to shield his optics from the flash, Cheetor was able to make out a giant winged figure emerging from the tower, their dark silhouette highlighted by the crackling energy surrounding them.

A sinking feeling gripped Cheetor’s spark. As difficult as it was to make out the figure’s details, it did not take long for him to associate a name with its appearance. Even then, he could barely bring himself to so much as whisper it.

“Onyx Prime….”

*  *  *

Everything was proceeding exactly as he had foreseen.

The Predacon who now called himself Megatron watched as things continued to unfold below the Darksyde. Onyx Prime had just made his appearance, bringing the battle to a standstill. The Underbase had seemingly been destroyed, though its residual energies continued to crackle like lightning in a storm. The window of opportunity for the next part of his plan was quickly narrowing, but Megatron was confident that it would go just as smoothly as everything else had.

Besides, the Talisman had already showed him just how things were going to go. When he and Steel Jaw had interacted with the ancient device during their scuffle, it had flung him into a dimension that laid beyond space and time. All of his history was laid out before him like an intricate tapestry, allowing him to see every event in great detail and even how they were intimately connected with other events. It had allowed him to witness everything that had happened leading up to his creation… as well as everything that would happen upon his return.

That was how he came to realize who he was meant to be; the name that was rightfully his. He had seen his future, his destiny, and he was going to do everything he could to bring it to fruition.

This was just the beginning, of course. There was still much, much more that needed to be done.

While the Predacons and Maximals below gawked at Onyx Prime’s arrival, Megatron directed his attention to the communications unit. Moments earlier, it had intercepted a message transmitted from one of the Maximals to their giant Autobot base in the sky and blocked it from reaching its destination. Now that the right moment had finally arrived, Megatron pressed a switch to allow the message to finally transmit to its intended receiver.

With no one else present on the Darksyde’s bridge, Megatron allowed himself to laugh, loudly and proudly. It felt so good to be in control of what would become a historical event like this. He could get used to this.

And he knew he would.

*  *  *

“Sari? Sari! Are you okay?”

Sari coughed as she burst out of the rubble that had once been the Project: Cadmus facility. Her entire body ached while dust and soot covered her armor plating, getting into the vents of her facemask which caused her to inhale them. As the dust settled, she could make out a concerned Verity trying to dig her out, using all of her might to move the piece of rubble that was currently pinning Sari’s legs.

“Hang on,” Sari coughed. “I’ve got it.” She unsheathed one of her arm blades and, once Verity had moved out of the way, brought it down on the slab of concrete. The blade neatly sliced it in half and released her legs. Verity then helped her to her feet, though it took her a moment to find her balance.

“It’s a miracle that you managed to survive all that,” Verity remarked. “Looks like your friend wasn’t so lucky.”

Sari couldn’t bring herself to look in the direction where Kicker and the Underbase had been, not wanting to see the grim results of his sacrifice. “Is Onyx Prime still here?” she asked quietly. “The big dragon robot?”

“Yeah, he’s right behind you,” Verity muttered. “He hasn’t done or said anything yet. His back’s turned to us, so it should be safe for you to look.”

Taking a deep breath (which simply triggered another coughing fit), Sari turned around and looked up at Onyx Prime. The ancient Prime stood there with his wings spread wide, the residual energies of the Underbase flashing around him. The explosion had blown a wide enough hole in the tower that gave her a good look at what was happening outside. The Maximals and Predacons — good and bad beast Transformers from what she had been told — appeared to be in the middle of a battle along with her three Autobot companions. A claw-shaped starship hovered in the sky above, watching over everything like a vast, predatory bird.

Time seemed to have crawled to a standstill. No one was moving or doing anything; the combatants below were frozen in shock staring at Onyx Prime and Onyx Prime himself was immobile. The crackling energy seemed to be the only thing that was actually moving.

Frowning to herself, Sari turned to Verity and was about to say something… only to realize that the other woman had also frozen in place. It was as if someone had just pressed the pause button on a movie. Before Sari could wrap her mind over what was happening, she felt a shadow fall over her. Swallowing hard, she slowly turned around to look up at the large robot standing over her. From the black and purple armor plating and the spider-like appendages hanging off his back, Sari immediately recognized him as one of the Predacons she had encountered back in Verenya.

“So this is it, then,” she exhaled. “This is how I die.”

Tarantulas cackled in response. “Now that, little one, is dependent entirely on whether or not you do exactly as I say.”