BIONICLE: Expectations - A G2 Short Story

 EXPECTATIONS

Okoto, the Region of Stone

The sun had mercifully begun to set, but it did little to put Nilkuu at ease.

His canteen was empty. His throat was parched and dry. He could feel his forehead slick with sweat behind his mask. His legs were tired and sluggish, his feet dragging through the sands of the Okotan desert. With each step he took, he felt he was that much closer to collapsing to the ground and letting the Endless Dunes take him. Someone else would have to be Protector of Stone, because he was certainly not going to be in any position to protect anything if he carried on like this.

Unable to contain himself anymore, Nilkuu called out to the tall, brown-armored figure walking ahead of him. “Could we please stop for the night?”

Toa Pohatu, Master of Stone, stopped in his tracks to look back at him. “But we’re almost there,” he said. Nothing in his voice indicated that he noticed or cared about Nilkuu’s current predicament.

“We are seven days away from our destination and we have already been traveling for twice that amount,” Nilkuu said. “Besides, it’s getting dark. We should set up camp and get some rest before continuing.”

Pohatu looked back in the direction he had been walking, where there was nothing but endless desert. “But the mask—”

“The Golden Mask of Stone will still be there in the morning.” 

Nilkuu dragged his way towards a spot where several boulders and rocks had been gathered in a circle. He had no idea who had gathered and placed these rocks in such a convenient position—perhaps previous brave travelers who had trekked through here—but he was not about to complain. Plopping himself down on one of the smaller boulders, he started piling up some of the smaller rocks to prepare a fire. Perhaps realizing it would be futile to change his mind, Pohatu reluctantly walked over to join and sat on a stone opposite of Nilkuu as the Protector of Stone rubbed two rocks together to spark a fire.

“It’s too bad Toa Tahu isn’t here with us,” Nilkuu said, hoping to make light conversation. “Perhaps then this would be a much quicker process.”

Pohatu said nothing, arms folded over his chest as he silently watched the Protector.

Once he had successfully created a small fire, Nilkuu pulled himself up higher onto his boulder and drew himself into a cross-legged position. He stared at the fire for a moment before looking up at Pohatu, seeing the flames glowing off the Toa’s brown mask.

“What do you think of Okoto so far?” the Protector of Stone asked.

Pohatu shrugged his shoulders, not even looking at Nilkuu. “It’s all right.”

Nilkuu frowned. “Just ‘all right?’ I’ll admit, you haven’t had a chance to explore the entire island, but….”

He trailed off, unsure of how to finish his sentence. Pohatu continued to stare at the fire, betraying no emotion in his eyes. Although he could not see behind the Toa’s mask, Nilkuu doubted that Pohatu’s expression would be anything but a blank slate.

Chewing his lip, Nilkuu debated whether or not to speak his mind. For the past several days, he had been wanting to voice his thoughts to the Master of Stone but had always thought better of it. Now, however, was perhaps the best—and possibly only—opportunity he had to do so. He only hoped that the Master of Stone did not take it the wrong way.

Taking a deep breath, Nilkuu said, “I must admit, Master Toa, you are not at all what I expected.”

This got Pohatu’s attention as his eyes shot up to meet the Protector’s. “What?”

“Ever since I was a child, I have heard stories of the Toa and their adventures. My father would regale me with tales that had been passed down for generations from our shared ancestor Kerato, who heard them first-hand from the Mask Maker Ekimu himself.”

Pohatu continued to stare at Nilkuu, unfazed by anything the Protector was saying. “Okay?”

Nilkuu sighed, casting his gaze back down at the fire. “The Pohatu of those legends was much different than you. The Pohatu I grew up knowing was a fun-loving adventurer who served as the heart of the Toa. His spirit was warm enough to even melt the ice around Toa Kopaka’s heart as the two of you went on to become great friends. Together you would scour the Land Above for masks of power, brave the treacherous skies of the Phantoka, and face off against Mavrah and his horde of the undead.”

He looked back up at Pohatu, meeting the Toa’s emotionless gaze.

“But you are not that Pohatu. You do not have the same warmth and heart that the Pohatu I knew does.”

“Probably because I’m not that Pohatu,” the Master of Stone replied. “I’ve never done any of those things you mentioned. At least, I don’t recall ever doing them.”

“And perhaps you didn’t,” Nilkuu admitted. “Perhaps they were merely tales that my father—or any of his predecessors—spun on their own, or were stories that Ekimu himself made up.”

He exhaled deeply as he returned his gaze to the fire.

“Perhaps I was naïve to think that you could ever satisfy my own preconceived notions. Not only is it unfair to me but it is unfair to you, to burden you with my impossible expectations.”

Pohatu tilted his head to the side. “Do you prefer the Pohatu that you grew up with?”

“I….” Nilkuu cleared his throat, still harsh and dry. “I mean, yes, but only because I spent so many years listening to and retelling those stories about him. I’ve only known you for a few weeks.”

“Why can’t I be just as good as that Pohatu, if only in different ways?”

To this, Nilkuu had no answer. Pohatu then uncrossed his arms and leaned forward.

“Listen,” he said, his voice unexpectedly soft. “What I’m about to say is between you and me, okay?”

Nilkuu looked up at him in surprise but nodded all the same. “Of course, Master Toa. Please, speak your mind.”

Pohatu waited a moment before speaking. “The reason I’ve been so… quiet and… I dunno, cold to you, is because… I’m not sure who I am supposed to be.”

This did not surprise Nilkuu. When he and the villagers had first encountered Pohatu, the Master of Stone had expressed confusion over his very identity.

“I don’t remember anything about my past life,” Pohatu went on. “Everything I know about myself and the other Toa is based on what you’ve already told me. Who knows, maybe I was the same as the Pohatu you heard stories about. Maybe I was warm and adventurous and best friends with Kopaka, who I haven’t even met yet. Maybe I did brave the Mavrah and scour the Phantoka or… whatever those things you mentioned were.”

He let out a sigh as he rested his chin on his hand.

“The point I’m trying to make is… my memory is a blank slate. So is my personality. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to act and I’m afraid that, if I act the wrong way, you and the villagers will reject me.”

“Of course not,” Nilkuu objected. “We would never dishonor you in such a way, Master Toa.”

“Good to know. Even so, I’m still afraid to open up to them. This is all brand new to me; a new world, a new life. I’m still not even fully convinced that this is just one long dream.”

Nilkuu chuckled. “Well, that makes two of us then.”

Pohatu glanced at him and Nilkuu could have sworn he saw the hint of a smile in the Toa’s eyes. The Master of Toa then reached behind his back and brought out his canteen, handing it to the Protector.

“Here,” he said. “Help yourself.”

Nilkuu shook his head. “No. I couldn’t—”

“I insist. I’ve barely drank from it and you look like you need it more than me.”

Nilkuu did not need any more convincing and he eagerly took the canteen, removing his mask to drink from it. Once he had finally satisfied his thirst, he set down the canteen and wiped his mouth.

“Many thanks, Master Toa.”

“Please, it’s just Pohatu. Right now, I don’t feel like I’m the master of anything yet. I’m just following your lead.”

Nilkuu chuckled. “Fair enough.” Letting out a yawn, he then laid down on the boulder and rested his head on his hands. “Now then, let us get some rest.”

“You go ahead,” Pohatu replied. “I’ll stay up to keep watch.”

Too tired to argue, Nilkuu closed his eyes. “If you insist, Mast— …Toa Pohatu.” 

This Pohatu may have not been the one he had been expecting, the Protector of Stone thought. But he was pretty sure he was going to like him all the same.

The fire continued to crackle as Nilkuu found himself drifting off into a much-needed sleep.

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XVI, Epilogue

EDITED 11/27/2021 Removed Soundwave/Soundblaster from the scene since it doesn't really make sense for his character at this point.

EDITED 5/11/2022 Removed Mindwipe

EPILOGUE

Earth

Violet bolts of lightning lashed out from dark storm clouds as they gathered over the barren landscape, thunderous roars bellowing from deep within. They were all that Galvatron needed to tell him that he was in the right place.

The reborn warrior stood on a precipice that loomed over the dry field where Unicron’s essence was concentrated. For all the Destructons’ efforts, the Chaos Bringer was not yet fully infused with the Earth itself and was so far only contained in a relatively small chunk of it. As time went on, his essence would soon spread and take over the entire planet, returning him to a physical form.

Until then, Galvatron would have to bide his time and ensure that the Autobots did not do anything to impede the process. And he would not be able to do that alone.

A dark shadow fell over him and Galvatron looked up to see a titanic figure in black and gold armor looming over him. “Scorponok. I’m glad you could join me for this occasion.”

Scorponok merely grunted in response.

Turning his attention back to the dry field, Galvatron raised his hands to the sky, where lightning continued to crackle.

“Now then,” he intoned. “Arise, my brethren!”

The dry barren land began to uncharacteristically bubble as figures began to emerge from beneath it. The first to rise was a mighty mechanical being in white and black armor with red claws and massive purple wings. In a previous life, he had been known as Gigatron, a warlord of the Decepticon Empire. Now, he was but another servant of the Chaos Bringer. Joining him shortly after was Bludgeon, an orange-clad skeletal warrior who had served as a Herald before, and had been given a second lease on life.

Ideally, more would join them in number as time went on and more fell into the thrall of Unicron’s embrace. But this was a decent start, Galvatron thought.

There was just one piece missing….

“I apologize for my tardiness.”

Galvatron and Scorponok both turned to see a black and teal truck driving up to them. As it started to transform, Galvatron noticed Scorponok begin to tense up. He did not get a chance to question his fellow Herald’s behavior as the last arrival stepped up to them.

“So then,” said Scourge. “Shall we get started?”

*  *  *

Elsewhere, on a world located at the very edge of the universe, Lord Imperious Delirious sat cross-legged as he conversed with the voices in his head; the voices he had been hearing for all his life.

“It is done, my masters. Earth and Unicron have been joined.”

“And yet there is still much to be done,” said the voices in his head.

“Not so,” the leader of the Destructons calmly replied. “All we need to do is cyber-form the planet so that—”

“No! The process must be delayed. The universe has become threadbare.”

Lord Imperious frowned to himself. “Is that not what you wanted? We needed to make the universe threadbare in order to release Unicron’s essence from the Dead Universe.”

“Yes, but as a result of the Cybertronians’ meddling with the timeline, things have become unstable. The walls between dimensions are beginning to crumble; in some places, they have even become non-existent. They have already found easy access to universes connected to their own… but now the gateways to the multiverse have widened.”

“What does this mean?” Lord Imperious asked.

“It means we must restore balance and integrity before we can proceed with the final stages. If we do not, everything will collapse in on itself and it will all have been for naught.”

“Tell me how to fix it then, and I will see it through.”

“We know you will. We created you for that very purpose.”

Uncrossing his legs, Lord Imperious rose to his full height and cast his gaze to the twin moons in the sky.

“By the will of the Vok,” he whispered to himself, “it will be done.”

And no matter how long it took, he would see it through.

ALIGNMENT: CONCLUDED

TRANSFORMERS REGENERATED WILL RETURN IN:

“BEYOND IMAGINATION!”

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XVI, Chapter Seven

 CHAPTER SEVEN

The Mothership, Mars

Megatron stood in what had been the command center to the Mothership, former flagship of the now-defunct Secret Order. While other Decepticons moved about the room, downloading data from the computers and retrieving anything useful they found, he focused his attention on the red and black bot laying at his feet, their colors having already begun to fade.

“Her name was Plasma,” said the “clone” known as Megastorm, standing beside Megatron.

“And you killed her,” the Decepticon leader said.

“As soon as we received word of Onyx Prime’s death, I realized there was not much point in continuing to follow her,” Megastorm explained. “Rather then try to reason with her, I decided to simply remove her from the picture instead.”

“Spoken like a true ‘clone’ of Megatron,” remarked Starscream, glancing at the Decepticon leader. “You must be so proud.”

“Shut up, Starscream,” Megatron growled. Turning back to Megastorm, he said, “Who were you before the Secret Order captured you and made you into… this?”

“I was merely a Decepticon soldier,” Megastorm replied. “As were my fellow ‘clones’ Archforce and Megaplex.”

“And where are they?”

“Megaplex was sent off to Liege Maximo, wherever he is now. As for Archforce….”

When Megastorm did not finish his statement, Megatron stepped closer to him, glowering furiously. “Well?”

“Plasma carried him off to experiment on him. I don’t know what she did to him or where he is now.”

“Is he no longer aboard the Mothership?”

“You can check the cameras but I don’t think he is.”

Growling with impatience, Megatron turned to the other Decepticons. “Barricade! Access this ship’s footage and find a Decepticon by the designation ‘Archforce.’”

“He should look like me except purple,” Megastorm supplanted.

“Right,” Barricade muttered. He quickly got to work in accessing the Mothership’s cameras and going through all of the available footage. After a moment, he called back to Megatron. “I believe I’ve found him, my liege.”

Megatron stormed up to him. “Where is he?”

“Well, he’s not here anymore,” Barricade said and Megatron suddenly realized how uneasy he sounded. “And I don’t think he’s going by Archforce anymore.”

Megatron frowned. “Bring up a visual.”

Barricade did so and all of the Decepticons in the room turned to a viewscreen as it began displaying footage from the Mothership’s cameras. Laying on some sort of examination table was whom Megatron could only assume was Archforce… even though he no longer bore any resemblance to the Decepticon leader as Megastorm did. If anything, from the purple armor and flayed crown-like helm, he looked much more like a certain other tyrannical despot that Megatron was familiar with….

“Is that… Galvatron?” whispered Thundercracker.

Megatron said nothing as he continued to watch the footage. Archforce proceeded to get up from the examination table and speak to someone just out of view (most likely Plasma). The footage then showed the reborn Galvatron walk down the Mothership’s corridors towards the space bridge. A portal materialized itself for him and Galvatron stepped through it, vanishing from view.

As the video came to an end, Shatter spoke up and said, “I can access the space bridge’s terminal and find out where he’s gone if you would like, my liege.”

“Do that,” Megatron ordered. “We must find out where he is and what he is up to, immediately.”

“Is this going to affect anything?” asked Starscream. “Such as our plans to attack Earth?”

Megatron thought for a moment, weighing all of his options. While he could very well proceed with his planned invasion without facing much if any trouble posed by this reborn Galvatron… at the same time, there were now too many unknown quantities at play. On top of Galvatron, there was also the Destructons, who could strike at any moment. He had been hoping to destroy Earth before then, preventing the Destructons from bringing back Unicron. But knowing that the Autobots would do all that they could to defend that pathetic dirtball of a planet, regardless of any Chaos Bringer, such a prospect was now looking more implausible with every passing minute.

Now that he thought about it… perhaps it would be better to let the Destructons proceed with their plans. That way, the Autobots could make their futile attempt to preserve their precious Earth only to be wiped out in the process. With them out of the way, the Decepticons could then focus all of their might on Unicron himself, while also using the Autobots’ deaths as a point to rally any stragglers left behind to their cause. Without any Prime to turn to, all Cybertronians would have no choice but to put their faith in Megatron and his forces as they defended their home planet from an even greater evil.

After all, he had already succeeded in defeating Unicron once. That in and of itself was a remarkable reputation that even Optimus himself could not deny. And once Unicron was defeated once and for all, Cybertron would at last recognized Megatron as its rightful leader; just as he was always meant to be. And with Trannis gone—and soon Optimus Prime and Galvatron as well—no one would be left to challenge him.

The more he thought about it, the more appealing the prospect sounded, and a grin soon found its way onto Megatron’s face.

“A change of plans may be wise,” he finally said. “Our discoveries here has given me much to think about.”

Starscream cocked his head. “You seem pretty happy about it….”

Megatron chuckled. “Let’s just say a better opportunity has presented itself… and I intend to seize on it.”

Metroplex

“It’s good to have you back with us, Cerebros.”

“It’s good to be back,” Cerebros replied, his image displayed on the viewscreen in front of Elita. “I’m preparing to dock Fort Max with Metroplex. I’m gonna have some Titan Masters for you to round up and put in the brig.”

“Have they been giving you trouble?” Elita-One asked.

“They have but they’re being cooperative at the moment. I’d still keep an eye on them.”

“Noted. I look forward to hearing what you’ve been up to lately.”

Cerebros nodded and snapped off a quick salute before signing off. Once his image had dissipated, Elita turned around to face the two other commanders with her in the command center: Star Saber and Primal Major.

“Optimus has informed me that Earth’s leaders have approved of the Orbital Command Hub being relocated here,” Elita said to them. “We’ll need to start gathering resources to allocate there once it’s in position. Things might get hectic here.”

“Don’t they always,” Star Saber remarked. “Hopefully our enemies don’t choose to strike when we’re in the middle of all that.”

“When they do, we’ll be prepared either way,” Elita said. “Especially now that we have two Titans.”

“Well, one Titan and a dead one,” Primal muttered.

Elita shot him a look but decided to let the comment slide. “Anyway, I believe Optimus is currently speaking with Rodimus at the moment. I have no idea what they could be discussing.”

“Have you told them about my proposal?” Primal asked.

Elita huffed. “No, I have not. And I won’t because you and I both know it’s going to be shut down. Brainstorm and Perceptor have already told us that—”

“This has nothing to do with the current situation. It has to do with the Predacons.”

“Going by Sari’s report, it sounds like they died when they went through the Warren,” said Star Saber.

Primal shook his head. “I refuse to believe that. That Sari girl is still alive, isn’t she? And she’s a human! If she can survive the Warren, then Gnashteeth and his crew most certainly did.”

“Even so,” Elita said, “they are not a priority at the moment. We must focus our resources on the Decepticons and the Destructons.”

“And how do you know the Predacons aren’t still involved? For all we know, Gnashteeth could be pulling the strings this whole time! If we don’t do anything about them and they strike when we’re not prepared—”

“I think you’re giving them too much credit,” Star Saber said.

Primal glared at him. “And you’re not giving them enough. If you Autobots won’t do anything about them, then I will have to take matters into my own hands.”

With that, he turned and stormed out of the command center. Once he was gone, Star Saber looked over to Elita.

“Are you just going to let him go?”

“I can’t really do anything to stop him,” Elita sighed.

“You can lock him out of his ship—”

“That will only make matters worse. Besides, as much as I hate to admit it, he does have a point. For all we know, the Predacons could still be scheming and getting involved in all of this. Seeing as how the Maximals have been at war with them for the past millennium… maybe it is best to let them handle this matter while we handle ours.”

Star Saber raised an optic ridge. “And if they end up making things worse for us?”

Elita stared grimly after the door Primal had just went through. “Then Matrix save us all.”

*  *  *

“Are you still going through with it?”

Optimus Prime sighed as he paced back and forth in Rodimus Prime’s office aboard Metroplex. “I’m honestly not sure at this point,” the older Autobot leader admitted. “Initially I was, but after our last conversation, I have begun to see the futility in it. Maybe I am naive to think that Megatron could ever change back to the way he was.”

“If you want my honest opinion,” Rodimus said solemnly, “I don’t think Megatron was ever that good of a bot to begin with.”

Optimus stopped to look at him. “How would you know? You never met him when he was Optronix, did you?”

“No, but I know quite a few bots who did—such as you. Everyone I’ve asked has had their own story to tell regarding Optronix… and you wanna know the one thing that they all had in common?”

Optimus folded his arms. “I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

“That Optronix was a talented Autobot who did great things… and was also an aggressive, arrogant afthole who talked down to everyone and had great ambitions. Ambitions that mostly involved being the sole leader of Cybertron.”

“The High Council did always promote him to be the next Prime….”

“Yeah, and he believed it,” Rodimus said. “He let it get to his head. And you know something else? Kup once told me that, one day, Optronix went on a rant about the High Council and how his first act as Prime would be to disband the Council altogether. Now, I don’t know about you, but that statement’s got dictator-shaded red flags all over it. Like it or not, Optimus, but your brother didn’t become Megatron; he was always Megatron. The Decepticons just gave him the environment he needed to be who he truly was. No brainwashing required.”

Optimus Prime bowed his head as he took in Rodimus’s words, allowing them to sink in. “You may be right,” he finally said. “Perhaps I have simply convinced myself to think that he used to be a better bot back then, when in reality….”

He trailed off but Rodimus did not need him to finish his statement. Rising up from his seat, he stepped around his desk and walked over to Optimus, placing a hand on his predecessor’s shoulder.

“Hey, it happens. We all want to see the good in people. It’s just that, sometimes, there isn’t any good to be found.”

Optimus nodded solemnly. “Indeed.”

“So you’re not gonna space bridge your way to Trypticon?”

“No. No, I am not.”

“Good, because Elita would kill me if she found out I let you do that.” Rodimus chuckled as he slapped Optimus’s shoulder, something he most likely wouldn’t have been able to get away with were he not also a Prime. “Now that that’s out of the way, allow me to ask this: Do you want the Matrix back?”

Optimus gave him a confused look. “What?”

Rodimus opened up his chest compartment to reveal the artifact in question. “Just got it back from Primus. I know we’ve been doing the ‘co-Prime’ thing for a while now, but….”

Optimus shook his head. “No. Absolutely not. That was merely a temporary thing. You are the rightful Prime and I have no intention of taking back full command. Besides, I know that Dai Atlas and the others are not as… confident in your capabilities as a leader as they are in mine. If I take back the Matrix or share command with you, that will only cement their beliefs.”

“Fair enough,” Rodimus said, closing up his chest compartment. “In that case, I’ve got a job offer for you.”

Optimus blinked. “A job offer?”

“Convoy and I have been talking about putting a certain special unit back together, now that the Wreckers are… currently out of commission.”

“You’re referring to the Convoy Corps.”

Rodimus nodded. “We’ve got Lio back, as well as Toxitron—who Convoy tells me used to be called ‘Battle Convoy.’ He also thinks that there are still others out there and is working on reaching out to them. Like you, he’s a bit wary about being in command again, so… I was wondering if you would be up to the position.”

Optimus considered the offer. “Well,” he murmured. “I already look the part, seeing as my current armor is known as the ‘Star Convoy Armor,’ at least according to Wheeljack.”

“There you go!” Rodimus beamed. “You’ve already got your codename!”

Optimus narrowed his optics. “And if I turn down your offer? What will you have me do then?”

Rodimus tapped his chin in thought. “Well,” he said, “the hallways do need cleaning….”

Optimus Prime stared at his successor for a moment. Then, he threw his head back and laughed. It was a deep, booming laugh that echoed throughout the room, and was eventually joined by Rodimus Prime’s own laughter.

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XVI, Chapter Six

 CHAPTER SIX

The Ark, Earth

“An orbital what now?”

“An Orbital Command Hub,” Optimus Prime repeated.

William Fowler stared at the Autobot leader from the railed platform he was standing on, trying to gauge whether or not Prime was messing with him. “Mind telling me what that is?”

“It was a space station we used as a primary outpost after the war had moved into its intergalactic phase,” Optimus explained. “When the war ended, we relocated it to Cybertron to serve as an auxiliary satellite.”

“And now you want to move it into Earth’s orbit?” Fowler asked.

Optimus nodded. “Given the uncertainty as to what the Decepticons’ next move will be—as well as when the Destructons will make theirs—I feel that it would be most pragmatic for us to establish a more permanent residence here in your solar system in the event that we must defend your planet when the time comes.”

“That giant ship you’re using isn’t good enough?”

“Metroplex has been a valuable asset but even he—in his current offline state—won’t be enough to defend Earth should the Decepticons return with their entire armada.”

Fowler ran a hand over his brow as he tried to take this all in. “Look, I get what you’re saying and it’s a good idea and all… but I’m gonna have to twist a lot of arms in order to even think about getting that ball rolling. After everything that’s happened so far, a lot of the big suits upstairs aren’t exactly keen on trusting you guys, even after I convinced them that Joshua Red had gone nuts with betraying you guys to the ‘Cons.”

“I understand, Agent Fowler,” Optimus Prime said solemnly. “Do whatever you can to convince your superiors and we will do what we can to protect your planet.”

“Don’t worry, I trust you on that. After everything we’ve been through, I’d be a fool not to.”

Fowler turned to leave only for Optimus to stop him by speaking. “Before you leave, Agent Fowler, I must ask: have you had the chance to speak with Rodimus Prime?”

Fowler stopped to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “You mean the new guy? Yeah, of course. Spoke to him a few times over the past year. Why?”

“What is your overall impression of him?” 

“Uh… honestly? He’s fine, I guess. Kind of hot-headed and definitely a lot more inexperienced compared to you, but I can tell he means well.” Fowler cocked his head to the side, smirking slightly. “Why? Feeling a bit insecure today?”

“No, not at all,” Optimus replied. “I was merely curious. Especially since, in the event that I am forced to relinquish all command, you will only have him to speak too.”

“That sounds awfully ominous,” Fowler remarked. “You know something that I don’t, Prime? Something you want to say?”

Optimus Prime was silent for a moment, almost as if he was debating whether or not he did have something to say. Instead, he simply shook his head and said, “No, Agent Fowler. That will be all.”

Not at all convinced, Fowler gave the Autobot leader one last wary look before taking his leave.

*  *  *

“So… what’s it like being the head of a giant alien robot?”

Hunter O’Nion took another swig from his beer can before looking at Verity. “Honestly? It’s not that bad once you get used to it.”

Verity snorted. “I’m being serious, smart ass.”

“So am I. Really. Sometimes I forget that I am still part-human.”

“I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not.”

“Neither can I.” Hunter took another drink. “Well, my Sunstreaker side can. He’s really not a big fan of it. Which is probably why I’m rarely separated from him.”

Verity ran her hand over the hood of the yellow car they were sitting on. “Is he okay with us sitting here.”

“No. But he can’t tell me no because he can’t live without me.”

“Is that true? So, like, if you die, then…?”

Hunter nodded. “Vice versa is also true. I’m basically his One Ring.”

“Ah. So that’s why he won’t let you get far from him.”

“Exactly.”

The two sat there in silence for a moment, watching the sun as it slowly set behind the mountain range, casting a golden glow over the dry Oregon landscape.

Hunter then broke the silence by saying, “So! What about you? What have you been up to since Sunny and I went off to do space robot things? Besides the space robot things here, that is.”

Verity shrugged. “Not much, honestly. This past month is the most excitement I’ve had since… well, since you left. I’ve been traveling the country as usual, trying to find somewhere to stay, somewhere to belong. It’s… you know, I like the thrill of not staying in one place and getting to see the world and not have to live by somebody’s rules. It’s a great feeling. But sometimes I kinda wish I could just… stop for a moment, you know? Get off the train and relax. Rest my legs.”

“I hear ya,” Hunter said. “What about the others? Jimmy and Spike?”

“Jimmy moved to South Dakota, of all places. I saw him there working at a junkyard for some Yeager guy. I never got the chance to ask him how he got there because we were being hunted by Sector Seven and all that.” Verity looked down at her fingers, scraping off some dirt in the corner of her nails. “And Spike went back to work at his dad’s salvaging company. Haven’t heard from him since. To be honest, I never really liked him. Just kinda rubbed me the wrong way. He acted like he was the lead protagonist in some crappy young adult novel.”

Hunter nearly snorted out the drink he had been taking. “That is awfully specific,” he commented.

Verity laughed. “Come on, you’ve seen him! You were friends with him, weren’t you? He had that whole awkward teenage vibe about him.”

“I mean, hey, we were all seventeen at the time. We might as well have been the leads of some crappy young adult novel.”

They once more lapsed into silence, enjoying each other’s company for just another moment. There were so many things that could have been said but Verity knew that this wasn’t the time or place. It likely would never be.

As the last few rays of sunlight vanished behind the mountains, Verity said, “So, what’s next? Are you and your robot friends going to stick around or are you heading back into space?”

Hunter shrugged. “Dunno. The boss bot hasn’t said anything yet—”

Verity snorted again. “’Boss Bot.’ Totally using that.”

“—and I’m not sure what we’re doing to prepare against the Decepticons or the Destructons or Unicron or any of the other dozen bad guys who want us dead right now. At this point, I’m just going with the flow.”

“Sounds good.”

After downing the last of his drink, Hunter tossed the can aside and looked at her. “And you?”

“No idea. I’ll probably stick around here for a bit longer, just to see what happens. That Sari girl seems pretty interesting, so I’ll probably hang around her.”

“’Interesting’ as in a cool mystery sense or in, like, a romantic sense?”

Verity glanced at him. “Are you suggesting I’m gay?”

“I dunno, are you?”

“Hunter, you can’t just ask someone if they’re gay.”

“Hey, it’s cool either way,” Hunter said as he got down from the hood of Sunstreaker’s car mode. “I’ve been hanging out with gay robots for the past two years.”

Verity’s eyes went wide. “You’re joking.”

“Granted, it’s different for them than it is for us. But if you squint and stretch your mind far enough, you can see it. It’s all about subtext. Though, honestly, sometimes it’s just plain text.”

“I really can’t tell if you’re joking.”

Hunted shrugged. “Believe what you want. You might wanna get down; Sunny really wants to get going.”

As Verity got down from Sunstreaker’s hood, she spared a moment to look at Hunter’s human face for what could have been, for all she knew, the last time. “Do you ever wish you could go back?” she asked quietly.

“Go back to what?”

“To being human. A full human and not some weird cyborg that forms the head of a giant alien robot.”

Hunter gave the question some thought. “Not really,” he finally admitted. “Mostly ‘cos it’s hard for me to imagine ever going back. Sunstreaker and I have been bonded for so long, and gone through so much, that I don’t think we could ever be apart from each other even if it was possible to revert what’s been done to us.”

Verity slowly nodded. She then asked, “Do you regret it?”

Again, Hunter had to think about. Then, he shook his head. “Not really, no.”

Verity exhaled. “Okay. I just wanted to make sure you were happy. I mean, I wasn’t sure if you had any family or….”

“No.” Hunter gestured widely to the crashed remains of the Ark nearby. “This is my family now.”

The yellow car started to shift and Verity stepped aside as it changed shape, taking the form of a tall robot. Hunter began to change too, folding up into a robotic head with a black helmet and wide yellow “ear” pieces. The robot then bent down and picked up the head before attaching it to its neck.

“And I wouldn’t trade it for the world,” Sunstreaker said.

*  *  *

“Hard to believe it’s been twenty-nine years.”

Bumblebee glanced at the human woman sitting to his right. On his left sat Sari Sumdac, who had volunteered to accompany him on this visit. After all, she had been one of the first to meet Charlie Watson and her Bumblebee... and had been there when that Bumblebee died.

“I find it hard to believe that it happened at all,” he remarked. “Granted, I was in stasis lock during all the years that you knew your Bumblebee, so… yeah, I guess it goes without saying.”

Charlie nodded, saying nothing as she continued to stare at the lake in front of them. The reflection of the moon shimmered in the calm, peaceful waters. 

Clearing some static in his vocal processor, Bumblebee then said, “I wasn’t there when he died… but I’m sure he went out knowing that he did some good.”

Charlie looked up at him. “Did he?”

“He did,” Sari confirmed. “He destroyed that Talisman thing that these guys have been fretting over. Now that it’s gone, we don’t have to worry about the Decepticons trying to use it.”

“That’s good,” Charlie murmured. “I guess. But the Decepticons are still out there, aren’t they?”

“Yeah,” Bumblebee said quietly. “They always are. But whatever they pull next, we’ll stop them. Just like we always do.”

“You sound sure about that.”

“As sure as I can ever be.”

The three of them lapsed into silence; a silence that none of them dared to break. There was nothing left to be said. All they could do now was wait for whatever the world threw at them next.

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XVI, Chapter Five

 CHAPTER FIVE

Trypticon, New Kaon

“Get… off of me!”

Megatron roared as he fired a blast of energy from his fusion cannon, rendering one of the Brunt drones that had been trying to restrain him into a pile of scrap. He then wrenched his arm free from the claws of another drone and smashed his fist into its head, knocking it to the floor. Before he could revel in this triumph, more Brunt drones appeared to take the place of those he had just demolished and he once more found himself wrestling with them.

“Fight for as long as you want,” Trypticon’s voice rumbled from all around him. “There is no escape for you.”

“Do not underestimate me,” Megatron snarled as he blasted a Brunt unit through the chest with his fusion cannon. “I have survived far worse than this, Trannis. Do not presume for a single nanosecond that you can defeat me so easily!”

“I presume nothing,” Trypticon replied. “I only need to keep you preoccupied long enough for me to carry out my plans. I have a near infinite supply of Weaponizers at my disposal and your spark will give out long before that well runs dry.”

Another beam of energy from his arm cannon destroyed three Brunt drones at once. “You want to take that bet?”

When Trypticon did not respond to this, Megatron spared a second to glance in Full-Tilt’s direction. The so-called “captain” of Trypticon continued to sit in his command chair, watching on in silence. No doubt that it was through Full-Tilt’s optical sensors that Trypticon—or Trannis, whichever he was calling himself now—was watching everything unfold. In fact, Megatron couldn’t help but wonder if there was much to distinguish the three individuals at this point. Trannis’s spark had been placed into Full-Tilt’s body so that it could then be transferred into Trypticon’s body. From that moment, the three of them had been permanently linked. Even after Trannis’s spark was extinguished, his consciousness remained in Trypticon’s processor which was also Full-Tilt’s processor. They had become one.

He intended to change that.

After grabbing a charging Brunt and throwing it against the wall, Megatron set his sights on Full-Tilt and charged towards the stationary Decepticon. Two more Brunts leaped out from behind the command chair but were quickly blasted away by his fusion cannon. Closing in on Full-Tilt, Megatron reached out and grabbed him by the neck before wrenching him out of the command chair, tearing out cables that had been connecting Full-Tilt to his seat.

“I believe you have long outlived your usefulness,” Megatron growled as he drew Full-Tilt close to his face.

“Killing me will do nothing,” Full-Tilt replied in a monotonous voice. “We—I have become eternal.”

Pressing the barrel of his fusion cannon against Full-Tilt’s abdomen, Megatron sneered. “Allow me to test that claim.”

A beam of energy lanced from the cannon and punctured a hole through Full-Tilt’s torso. At that moment, the entire room began to shake as a deafening, agonized roar filled the air. The Brunt drones that had been attacking Megatron suddenly seized up and started to clutch their heads as if in pain.

“This… cannot… happen!” Trypticon bellowed. “I am… Trannis! I am… Trypticon! I am—”

Whatever else Trypticon had been about to say was abruptly cut off as the entire room plunged into darkness. Behind Megatron, the remaining Brunt drones collapsed, the clanging of their metal bodies against the floor echoing all around him. As Megatron released Full-Tilt’s deactivated corpse, there was a flash of purple light as a Seeker in black and purple armor plating suddenly appeared before the Decepticon leader.

“Lord Megatron!” Skywarp exclaimed. “Are you injured? Soundwave told us that you would be here and—”

“Soundwave told you, did he?” Megatron snapped. “I look forward to hearing his explanation for everything.”

“Er, one problem with that, my liege,” Skywarp said awkwardly.

Megatron shot him a look. “What?”

“Soundwave is gone. He… he opened a portal and—”

Skywarp did not get a chance to finish his statement as Megatron slammed his fists against a wall and released an energon-curdling roar from his vocal processor.

*  *  *

Freedom. It was such a foreign concept in Soundwave’s mind. In fact, he could not even recall the last time he ever, truly considered himself to be free.

From day one, he had been in servitude to some higher power. From the Thirteen Primes to Ratbat, from Shockwave to Trannis, from Megatron to Shockwave once more…. For the several thousand years he had been online, he had always been second to someone. Only his companions — Ravage, Laserbeak, and the others — saw him as someone to look up to for leadership and guidance. His fellow Decepticons hardly ever gave him that respect unless instructed so by Megatron; Starscream and Shockwave certainly never regarded him as an equal in the command structure. They only tolerated his presence due to his position as Megatron’s adviser.

But those days were behind him now. Today was going to be the start of a new chapter.

Standing on a precipice that oversaw Trypticon’s stationary form, Soundwave turned around to regard his companions. Ravage, Laserbeak, Buzzsaw, Frenzy, and Rumble all looked to him with expectant expressions. These five had stuck with him for all these years, through thick and thin. He could hardly imagine his life without them.

That would have to change.

“This is where we part ways, my friends,” Soundwave said to them. “You are free to choose your paths, but it must be independent of mine.”

“You’re sure you want to go through with all of this?” Ravage asked, optics narrowed skeptically. “Not so long ago, you seemed pretty content with following Megatron as usual.”

“I was never content,” Soundwave confessed. “Ever since Megatron’s return, I have felt… uneasy about this whole situation. Trypticon whispering in my audio receptors certainly did not help matters.”

“But Trypticon’s been taken care of now,” said Rumble. “We managed to shut him off and I’m sure Megatron’s gotten out of his predicament. Why can’t we go back?”

“You can,” Soundwave corrected him. “But I cannot. Now that I have betrayed his trust for a third time, there is no way I can return to the Decepticons now.”

Ravage tilted his head. “What are you going to do then?”

“That is something I cannot tell you, because I know you will follow me and I do not want that.”

“Why?” Laserbeak squawked, flapping his wings. “Is it going to be dangerous?”

“Very,” Soundwave said. “Perhaps even fatal.”

Ravage continued to stare at him. “You’re absolutely sure about this?” he repeated. “Nothing we can say or do to change your mind.”

Soundwave shook his head. “Thank you for following me all this way,” he said softly. “I will forever cherish all of the time we have spent together. I would have not missed it for anything.”

With that, his chest window began to glow and a portal opened behind him. He stepped into it and it closed as soon as he was fully in.

*  *  *

“Upon reviewing the security footage, it would appear Soundwave’s little minions had a hand in shutting Trypticon down,” said Shatter, standing in front of a row of viewscreens in the command center. “As you can see here, the Decepticon designated Ravage tears out a set of cables that are wired to Trypticon’s brain module. This, in time with you destroying Full-Tilt, was what shut the Titan down. We have since been able to restore power to the facility without reactivating Trypticon himself.”

“No scrap,” Starscream muttered, standing beside the seated and silent Megatron.

Shatter ignored the remark as she continued. “I have already mobilized our units to search for Soundwave and his minions. The energy dispersion left behind by the portal he opened indicates that he could not have gone far and is most likely still here on New Kaon.”

She paused in her report, awaiting any comments from Megatron. When the Decepticon leader provided none, she shut off the viewscreens and bowed to him.

“Unless there is anything else, my liege, I will get straight to work. All hail Megatron.”

With that, Shatter departed from the room, leaving her superior officers to themselves. Once she was gone, Starscream stepped away from Megatron’s throne and turned around to face him.

“First Shockwave, then Soundwave. I’d better watch my back in case anything happens to me.”

Megatron glowered at him but continued to say nothing. Starscream worked his jaw as he debated over what words to string together and speak, and whether he should even speak them.

“Shall we continue with the mobilization of our forces as planned?”

Again, nothing but silence.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” With a slightly less respectful bow, Starscream prepared to take his own leave. “Let me know when they catch Soundwave. I will want a front-row seat to his punishment.”

The Air Commander left and Megatron now sat alone in his throne room, with no Soundwave to confide in and no Trypticon-Trannis to mock him. All he had now were his own conflicted thoughts.

He had no idea how much time had passed when one of the viewscreens turned on, displaying the face of Astrotrain.

“Lord Megatron, someone has just emerged from the space bridge.”

Megatron fixed his steely gaze on the Triple Changer. “And?” he said impatiently. “Who are they?”

“He says his name is Megastorm,” Astrotrain answered. “And, uh… well, maybe I should just show him to you.”

The image on the viewscreen changed and Astrotrain’s face was replaced with that of a green and purple bot whose appearance made Megatron feel as if he was looking in a mirror.

Suddenly, all thoughts of Soundwave and Trypticon receded to the back of Megatron’s mind and he leaned forward in his throne.

“Bring him to me. I’m sure our conversation will be an enlightening one….”

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XVI, Chapter Four

 CHAPTER FOUR

Fortress Maximus, somewhere on Earth

“We have to stop making this a habit.”

Cerebros stirred at the familiar voice as his systems booted back online. As his visual sensors came back into focus, he was greeted with the sight of several diminutive Cybertronians standing in front of him. In the lead was a bot in orange and red armor plating, whom Cerebros immediately recognized as the Titan Master Infinitus.

“You…” Cerebros started to say. “What are you… what just happened?”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Infinitus asked.

Cerebros struggled to think for a moment. “You… you and your friends attacked me and Dai Atlas… and then one of you plugged their needles into my neck….”

“That would’ve been me,” said a gray and red Titan Master whom Cerebros recognized as Stylor. “I was trying to bring back your memories as Kord. I’m not sure if I was successful, though….”

Infinitus tilted his head questioningly at Cerebros. “Do you remember anything? About your past life?”

“I’m… not sure,” Cerebros muttered. “I’m still trying to remember what happened in the last… however much time has passed.”

“More than a couple of days, I’ll tell you that much. After we took control of Fortress Maximus, we went after Iaconus, a dangerous Titan whom we thought had perished long ago. We followed him to Liege Maximo’s colony world only to be brought back here by Onyx Prime just as Iaconus destroyed Liege Maximo’s planet. We fled the first chance we got and left you and our leader Sovereign to Onyx Prime’s mercy.”

“Thanks for that,” Cerebros said dryly. “Really appreciate it.”

Infinitus looked away out of shame. “I regret dragging you and Fortress Maximus into all of this and treating both of you the way we did. But we became desperate—Sovereign especially—when we realized Iaconus was still online. You may not remember, but the destruction he brought… it was perhaps one of the many factors that ended up driving the Thirteen Primes apart.” 

“I’ll take your word for it. What about Onyx Prime? Is he still around?”

“No. He is dead. I’m not sure how but we’ve all sensed it. That is why we have returned here, to you; now that Onyx is no more, we are no longer in fear of his retribution.”

“Is that right?” Cerebros narrowed his visor as he took in the crowd of Titan Masters standing in front of him. “Then how come there are a lot less of you now? I remember there were tons of you back when you first brought me and Fort Max here.”

“Some of the others fled to the Decepticons,” said a red and black Titan Master. “I guess they thought they would have better luck with Megatron and his folks than with the Autobots.”

“Most of them had already been aligned with the Decepticons back when we were in hiding, Convex,” Infinitus pointed out. “It’s only natural that they would seek refuge from those they perceived to be their own kind.”

Cerebros groaned to himself, still struggling to process everything. “Great. So what now?”

Infinitus shrugged. “That’s entirely up to you. Sovereign is dead now, thanks to Onyx. We don’t have a leader anymore.”

“We have you,” said Stylor.

Infinitus shook his head. “I’m not leadership material. Been there and done that already. Besides, what would I be leading you towards? We don’t have a goal or purpose anymore.”

“Tell you what,” Cerebros said. “How about I take you guys to my Autobot buddies and we can lock you up in the brig for all of the trouble you’ve caused. That sound like a good purpose for you?”

“I told you he would still be pissed with us,” Convex muttered.

Infinitus sighed before looking back at Cerebros. “I suppose that’s as good a fate as any. Do whatever you think you must.”

“I will,” Cerebros said, already headed for Fortress Maximus’s controls. “Not like I needed your permission anyway….”

As he started to bring the Titan’s systems back online, Cerebros heard Infinitus approach him from behind but did not turn around to look at the Titan Master.

“Cerebros, please understand that it was never our intention to bring you harm. We just wanted what we thought was right for Cybertron.”

“I’m sure you did,” Cerebros replied. “Unfortunately, I’m not sure that justification will be good enough for the others. After everything you’ve done, especially just now with me, it’ll be hard for any of them to trust you.”

“I understand,” Infinitus said, lowering his head in defeat. “I just… I just wanted to make that clear.”

Cerebros did not offer any further reply. Within minutes, Fortress Maximus was back online and lifting up towards the sky.

Metroplex

“I was wondering how long it would take you to finally see me.”

Primus sat alone in his cell, separated from his two visitors by a ray shield. Rodimus Prime stood by the ray shield with his arms folded over his chest while Convoy stood behind him, watching on in silence.

“I take it you still have the Matrix?” Rodimus asked.

“Not even a hello? Is that how little I am worth to you now?” Primus bowed his head, looking at the floor. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You and the others never paid much attention to me.”

“We don’t have time for your pity party. We’re trying to fix the mess you caused and—”

“The mess I caused?” Primus’s head snapped back up, his single optic flaring. “You were there when Lord Imperious revealed his true scheme, Rodimus. You should know that it was never my intention to—”

“It doesn’t matter if it wasn’t ‘your intention,’” Rodimus snapped. “You still fell for the Destructons’ lies and did all of their dirty work. If you were the ‘all-knowing god’ that you claimed to be, you would have seen right through their deception.” 

To this, Primus seemingly had nothing to retort with. After a moment, a compartment opened up in his chest and he reached in to pull out a familiar looking gold spherical artifact with silver handles. The Matrix of Leadership glowed as brightly as it had before when Primus had first taken it from Rodimus Prime. The ray shield lowered and Rodimus stepped into the cell. Convoy was close behind him, a weapon trained on Primus in case the false god tried to pull something on them.

“Do you intend to use it against Unicron?” Primus asked as he handed the Matrix to its rightful bearer.

“We haven’t discussed it yet,” Rodimus replied, opening up his own chest compartment to place the Matrix back in. “I doubt we will since it would mean destroying Earth as well. We would need to somehow exorcise Unicron’s soul out of Earth before destroying it with the Matrix.”

Primus shook his head. “That won’t do you any good. The Matrix can destroy Unicron’s body but it cannot fully eradicate his essence. When you first defeated him two years ago, you only succeeded in destroying his current vessel while his essence was banished back to the Dead Universe.”

“You seem to know more about Unicron than any of us do,” Rodimus said. “Mind telling us the full story?”

At first, Primus did not speak and Rodimus started to think he wasn’t going to answer. Then, the former Grand Architect looked over to Convoy and asked, “Do you remember Antilla?”

Convoy shifted, still keeping his weapon pointed at Primus. “I… yes, I remember Antilla.”

“Do you remember how the Antillans used a weapon to wipe out all life on their planet, forcing the Primes’ forces to flee?”

“It’s all a bit foggy in my memory, but… yes, I remember.”

“Then you would have witnessed the birth of Unicron as you know him. The weapon that the Antillans used was the Talisman; through means that escape even my understanding, the Talisman managed to open a portal to the Dead Universe and infuse its essence with Antilla, creating the being you know as Unicron.”

Rodimus glanced at Convoy. “Did you know about this?”

“Not at the time,” Convoy replied. “Liege Maximo may have said something about it while I was in his captivity, but by that point I had already fallen into despair and was no longer paying attention to him.”

“How did the legend of Unicron start, though? Did you and the other Primes come up with it or did it originate somewhere else?”

“I’m not sure how or where it originated, but it definitely predated our time,” Convoy said. “I believe it was derived from the Old Cybertronian word for ‘uncreator.’”

“Indeed,” Primus said. “The Uncreator. My opposite. The Quintessons saw us as two halves of a whole and created me to serve as a counterbalance to the Chaos Bringer.”

“But the incident at Antilla happened long after the time of the Guiding Hand,” said Convoy. “How could the Quintessons have known about Unicron before he existed?”

“The idea of Unicron existed long before his physical creation. According to Quintesson myth, he was the chaotic half of their god Daiakuron while Primus was the peaceful half. While they had no proof of Unicron’s existence at the time, they nonetheless saw the need to create me so as to counteract Unicron’s inevitable arrival. It just so happened that their predictions came true in more ways than one.”

“I’m not going to pretend to understand any of this and just take your word for it,” Rodimus Prime said. “Unless you can tell us how to destroy Unicron once and for all, then we have no further business here.” 

“Is that it then?” Primus asked. “You’re just going to abandon your former crewmate in a cell to wither away?”

“You’re no crewmate of mine,” Rodimus snapped. “You’re just using him as part of your body. As far as I can tell, you share none of his good qualities. All I see is the Grand Architect.”

“Would it help if I separated into my individual components again?”

Rodimus blinked, taken aback by this. “You… you can do that?”

“All you need to do is ask.”

Rodimus shared a glance with Convoy before saying, “All right. Go ahead. Just don’t try to pull anything.”

Without a word, Primus’s body began to shift and split apart. His chestpiece disconnected and unfolded into a familiar orange Autobot; his legs folded back up to form Chief Justice Tyrest; his head, the Magnificence, fell to the floor; and his arms reconnected to form the blue and white-armored Adaptus. As the other components tried to recompose themselves and take in their surroundings, Adaptus picked up the Magnificence from the floor and handed it to Rodimus.

“Why don’t you ask my brother Epistemus?” the former Grand Architect said, smirking slightly. “He’s always professed to have all the answers to everything.”

Silently glaring at Adaptus, Rodimus Prime took the Magnificence from him and handed it to Convoy. He then guided Rung out of the cell before reactivating the ray shield, sealing Adaptus and Tyrest in.

“You feeling all right, Rung?” Rodimus asked the psychotherapist as the three of them headed out the brig. “We can take you to Ratchet to get checked up on.”

“I… I don’t know what’s going on,” Rung murmured, rubbing his head. “The last thing I remember is—”

“Don’t worry about it. All that matters is that you’re here and you’re safe.”

“Oh, I would not go that far, Rodimus Prime,” Adaptus said from behind them. “I don’t think any of us are….”

But Rodimus had already stopped listening as he, Convoy, and Rung departed from the brig.

*  *  *

“So,” Wheeljack said, staring at the ancient artifact placed in front of him on his worktable. “How exactly is this supposed to work?”

“How do you think it’s supposed to work?” asked Swerve, standing across from the engineer. He had been holding onto the Enigma of Combination ever since receiving it from a dying Cannonspring, using it to create the combiner Defensor when the Destructons attacked the Lost Light not so long ago. “It’s the Enigma of Combination. It makes combiners, like magic.”

Wheeljack shook his head, rolling his optics. “Magic doesn’t exist, Swerve. There has to be more to it than that.”

“Well, how else do you explain it being able to merge the Protectobots into one giant robot?” Swerve asked.

“Well, for one thing, the Protectobots had already had their bodies modified to form a combiner,” Wheeljack replied. “During the war, shortly before the Cataclysm, Optimus Prime had us look into creating combiners in response to rumors of the Decepticons doing the same. We didn’t get as far as actually combining them when Thunderwing went on his rampage, but the work had already been done. My guess is that the Enigma just enhanced what they had always been capable of doing.”

“Oh.” Swerve seemed somewhat disheartened by this revelation. “I never would have guessed. I don’t think First Aid ever brought it up.”

“Probably because he and the others were sworn to secrecy.”

“Were there any other Autobots involved in the project?”

“Yes. The Aerialbots and the Technobots volunteered and received the same treatment. If the Enigma can do the same for them that it did for the Protectobots, then we’ll have at least three combiners to combat any the Decepticons have made so far. Which is still one too many for my liking….”

“Hey, three is better than none!” Swerve then thought for a moment before saying, “Could you modify me to form a combiner?”

“No,” Wheeljack said, a bit too quickly. “Don’t have the tools or the resources at hand.”

“Is that really the case or are you just saying that to—”

“Enough chatter,” Wheeljack said, picking up the Enigma from the table. “I need to call some bots up to my lab. Maybe have Perceptor and Brainstorm stop by, too. You might want to step out ‘cos it’s going to get pretty crowded….”

Taking the hint, Swerve sighed and stepped out of the lab. As he did so, he saw Rodimus Prime and Convoy walking in his direction, accompanied by a familiar orange bot.

“Rung?!” Swerve exclaimed. “By the AllSpark! We thought you were—”

“Not now, Swerve,” Rodimus said. “We need to take him to Ratchet so we can make sure he’s—”

“Wait.” Convoy stopped at the door to Wheeljack’s workshop, peering inside. “What’s that you got in there?”

“What?” Wheeljack asked, turning around and holding up the Enigma of Combination. “This?”

Convoy’s optics narrowed. “Where did you get that?”

“A while ago, we picked up Nexus Prime—or what was left of him—and he gave the Enigma of Combination to us right before he went offline,” Swerve said. “I say ‘gave’—it’s more like I took it out of his subspace pocket while he was on his repair slab.”

“Swerve,” Rodimus groaned in exasperation.

“Hey, we were getting murdered by the Destructons at the time!” Swerve said defensively. “Desperate times and all that, you know.”

Unfazed, Convoy asked, “Did he say anything before he… before he died?”

“I wasn’t there but Velocity told me that he said something about five that needed to be one or something like that,” Swerve replied. “I’m not sure what he could have meant about that.”

“He was probably referring to the five bots that made up Primus,” Rodimus suggested.

Convoy shook his head. “No. He wouldn’t have known about that. None of us did. If anything, I believe he was referring to himself. Nexus Prime was comprised of five components.”

“Okay…?” Swerve said. “But… they’re all dead now, except for one of them I think. Why would he use his last words to ask us to find his own dead components?”

“I can’t say I know for sure at the moment,” Convoy admitted as his gaze wandered to the Enigma in Wheeljack’s hands. “But if there’s one thing I know about Nexus, is that there’s always more than one way to interpret his words.”

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XVI, Chapter Three

 CHAPTER THREE

Metroplex

“Forgive me for sounding skeptical,” said Dai Atlas, speaking via viewscreen along with his fellow councilor Windblade. “But I find all of this very hard to believe.”

“I don’t blame you,” Sari Sumdac said, standing before the gathered Autobots in Metroplex’s command center. She had never felt so small in her life, standing in the presence of so many giant alien robots. “To be honest, this all feels like a very bad dream.”

“If only it were,” muttered Elita-One. “So what you’re saying is that the Destructons actually succeeded in transforming Earth into Unicron… but you stopped it by going back in time?”

“I guess so,” Sari said, shrugging. “I’m still not exactly sure what happened. When the Predacons jumped into hyperspace or whatever, we got caught in something called the Warren and it threw me back in time to just moments before that Primus guy was about to pull the Talisman’s switch.”

“But the Destructons pulled the switch anyway?”

“Yeah, but the Talisman was damaged in the process so I guess it didn’t do everything they were expecting it to do.” Sari paused to take a deep breath. “And then Goldwheels blew up the Talisman and himself.”

“Goldwheels?” asked Windblade.

Elita waved her off. “Long story. So where are the Destructons now?”

“No idea,” said Sari. “My guess is they’re trying to find a way to finish Earth’s transformation. I’m not sure how much time that gives us….”

“In my experience, it’s usually never enough.” Elita looked over to Rodimus Prime, who had not spoken since the debriefing session started. “What are your thoughts on this? I understand you had some experience with time travel when you were captain of the Lost Light?”

“I did,” Rodimus said. “But the understanding I got from it was that you can’t undo the past; only plant the seeds for the present. At least, that’s the simplest way Perceptor and Brainstorm could put it. Speaking of which….”

His optics drifted over to the two Autobot scientists in question, who were present in the room. The one called Brainstorm, a light blue and gray bot with wings, seemed the most uncomfortable under Rodimus’s gaze as he started shifting his feet.

“I will say,” Brainstorm started to say, “that just before you called us all in here, Perceptor and I had started detecting strange traces of chronal energy. At first we thought it was just from the Predacons’ transwarp jump. But then….”

“Then we started noticing a… fissure in the fabric of space and time,” Perceptor continued. “I am not sure how else to put it, but… let us pretend that our universe is wrapped around some sort of fabric, like a curtain or a blanket. This fissure that we’ve detected is like someone’s taken a blade and started cutting through that fabric. And that tear is growing wider by the minute.”

“Which means what?” asked Rodimus.

“We’re not sure yet. But I doubt it can mean anything good.”

“Fantastic.” Rodimus sighed. “So to recap for everyone: The Destructons are planning to turn Earth into a body for Unicron, the Decepticons are god-knows-where, and the universe is literally falling apart or something like that. And we have no idea what to do at this point.”

“What about the Grand Architect?” asked Dai Atlas. “You said that you’ve finally managed to capture him.”

“We have, but he hasn’t been giving us anything useful. To be honest, I get the impression that he’s as lost as we are.”

Windblade tilted her head. “I thought the Grand Architect was the one behind all of this in the first place.”

“So did I, but it looks like he was just being played like a fiddle by the Destructons.”

“A what now?” questioned Dai Atlas.

Rodimus waved him off. “Nothing. Just an Earth expression.”

“Well, in any case,” said Windblade, “we will prepare the fleet in case the Destructons or the Decepticons—or both—come back in full force. Radio us when you find sight of them.”

“Will do,” said Elita-One. “In the meantime, standby for further instruction.”

With that, Dai Atlas and Windblade signed off and their faces vanished from the viewscreens. All that was left was the face of Optimus Prime, who had remained silent for the duration of the meeting. From what Sari understood, Optimus had entrusted primary command of the Autobots to Rodimus while he stayed on as more of an advisor. At the start of the session, Optimus had made it clear to the others that he would not speak on the situation until he and Rodimus were alone to discuss it. Apparently this was now their cue as Brainstorm, Perceptor, and others in the room started to file out. Elita-One seemed to linger for a moment before following suit, gesturing for Sari to fly alongside her.

After taking one last look at the two Primes, Sari followed the Autobots out of the command center before the doors slammed shut behind her.

*  *  *

“You’re really going through with this?”

“I feel like I have to,” Optimus Prime replied. “This may very well be my last chance to tie up loose ends before it is too late.”

Rodimus Prime frowned at his predecessor’s image on the viewscreen. “I’ve lost count of all the chances you’ve given him. Not to mention all of the times he’s died and come back to life. Do you really think he’s going to change at this point?”

“Honestly? Not really,” Optimus admitted. “However, I feel obligated to at least try… if only for the sake of my own peace of mind.”

“Even if it means your death?”

Optimus Prime was silent for a moment, contemplating the question. Naturally, his faceplate made it difficult for Rodimus to gauge his expression.

“I have considered the probability of such an outcome,” the elder Prime finally said. “Hopefully it will not come to that. But if it does….”

Optimus did not finish that thought but Rodimus did not need him to. With a sigh, the younger Prime turned away and stared at the door Elita and the others had gone through.

“You and I both know how Elita will feel about this,” Rodimus said quietly “Hell, it’s how most of us probably feel. You’re honestly just as guilty as Megatron when it comes to disappearing and dying and coming back and all that scrap.”

“I understand,” Optimus said solemnly. “In any case, I assure you that this will be the last time.”

“Given the low probability of you coming out of this alive, I can’t say that’s very reassuring.”

Optimus seemed as if he was about to reply only to think better of it. Instead, he said, “I will be joining you aboard Metroplex shortly. Make sure the space bridge is ready when I arrive.”

Rodimus said nothing as his predecessor’s image winked out, leaving the viewscreen blank. For several minutes, he simply stood there in the empty command center, listening to the quiet hum of Metroplex’s systems. Then, he turned over to one of the consoles and pressed a button on it. Within seconds, the viewscreen turned on again and the image of an Autobot with a very similar appearance to Optimus Prime materialized.

“Convoy, this is Rodimus Prime. I want you to join me in the brig in less than a megacycle….”

*  *  *

“You know, it should really be me in there.”

Kup sat in front of the CR chamber containing the grievously injured Springer. Punch had walked in on the veteran Autobot not knowing how long he had been in here. For all he knew, Kup had been here from the moment Springer was thrown into the CR chamber after he and the other Wreckers were rescued from the Decepticons’ camp. Whirl and the Jumpstarters had already been discharged from the repair bay, as Punch had run into them on the way here. The fact that Springer had yet to be released in any way did not bode well for the Wrecker leader’s fate.

“I should have done more to talk him out of that godforsaken plan,” Kup went on, barely acknowledging Punch’s presence. “I knew it wasn’t going to end well for us. These things never do. But you know how he is. He’s got that charm to him, you know. That charisma. Always finds a way to get you to see the bright side to any foolish plan he’s got cooked up.”

“It’s a miracle he’s lasted as long as he has,” Punch said. He immediately regretted it when Kup shot him a look. Rather than chew him out however, the veteran simply returned his gaze to the CR chamber.

“I’ve been through this song and dance before,” Kup muttered. “This time last year, in fact. He got done in by Ragnarok, who turned out to be Thunderwing. Somehow he managed to pull through; I can only hope that he does the same here.”

“Have the doctors said anything about him?” Punch asked.

“Ratchet doesn’t want to say anything conclusive yet. Springer is a… unique case when it comes to spark types and whatnot.”

“How so?”

Kup seemed to hesitate in replying only to then let out a tired sigh. “Suppose I might as well tell you. Not much point in keeping it a secret anymore.”

As Punch sat down next to Kup, the older Autobot began telling his story:

“In Cycle 8818, four years into the war, Mesothulas—who you know now as Tarantulas—created an artificial Transformer named Ostaros. This bot’s spark had a synthesized copy of the Matrix’s energy field, meaning no one could ever guess that he was something different than forged or cold constructed bots. Prowl used to work with Mesothulas during this time, but when he decided that Mesothulas had crossed a line, he destroyed his lab and everything in it. Everything except Ostaros, that is. Prowl couldn’t bring himself to kill him and instead brought him into the Autobots, giving him a new name and a full set of false memories. I was the only one of his mentors and commanding officers to be given even a small inkling of the truth, and overtime I was able to piece together the full story for myself.”

“Does Springer himself know?” Punch asked.

“No,” Kup grunted. “And unless he gets out of there, he never will.”

Punch looked back at the CR chamber. “And him being artificially born means Ratchet and the others can’t figure out how to fix him?”

“I don’t know,” Kup admitted. “I told Ratchet the truth about Springer just a few megacycles ago and he said he’s not well versed in those kinds of things to know for sure.”

“And it’s not like Tarantulas is around to give us a hand,” Punch muttered. “Not that he would.”

“Actually, he most likely would,” said Kup. “From what Prowl told me, Tarantulas cherished all of his creations, including Ostaros. I’m sure he would have put aside factional differences to fix his child any way he could.”

Silence fell over the two Autobots as they continued to watch the CR chamber containing Springer. Punch briefly debated whether or not to ask what would become of the Wreckers should Springer not pull through (or even if he did). However, he decided that now was not the appropriate time to ask such a question and elected instead to stay quiet.

Besides, he didn’t want to know the answer either way.