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.
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