Transformers Regenerated: Tales from the Lost Light - Dungeons & Dinobots

    Disclaimer: I have very limited knowledge of DnD, having only played it once briefly in high school. Most of what I know comes from listening to RPG horror stories on YouTube and watching a few episodes of Critical Role.

    Then again, the characters in this story have just as limited knowledge as I do, so it works out.

    The cast here is based on James Roberts' own comments about what a Lost Light RP group would be like.

DUNGEONS & DINOBOTS

Session 0

“Dungeons and what now?”

“Dragons!” Swerve grinned ear-to-ear as he showed Nautica the cover of some sort of book on his viewscreen. “It’s a game that humans on Earth play!”

Nautica regarded the cover skeptically. There was indeed a dragon on the cover (or at least what she knew to be a dragon), so that part was accurate at least. There were also two humans fighting the dragon, one being a bearded man clad in some sort of wooden armor, and the other a woman with some sort of scarlet garb that showed off her legs. A green orb of energy was also glowing in the woman’s hands, and Nautica was pretty sure humans could not do that, at least based on the limited research she had done on the species.

“So, does it teach them to do magic?” she asked.

“Yup!” Swerve replied. He then paused before saying, “Well, actually, I think it’s all in their imagination. Like, they pretend to do magic but they’re not actually doing it, you know?”

“Oh. But the dragons are real, right?”

“Uh, no, those are still in your imagination. Actually, I think they come in little figurines so you can act as if the dragon is really there. But they’re, like, this small!” Swerve held up a hand and closed his thumb and index finger together. “We’ll have to find figurines that scale better to us.”

“’We?’”

“Yeah, I’m organizing a game at the bar! I’ve already got, like, five other players, so all we need is a Dungeon Master!” 

“A Dungeon Master?”

“Yeah, someone to run the game for us.”

Nautica tilted her head. “Why can’t you do it?”

“Because I’m playing a wizard, and you can’t be a Dungeon Master and a player at the same time. Well, you can, but it’s ill-advised.”

“Ill-advised by who?”

“Look, are you in or not? Because Ultra Magnus sure as hell isn’t gonna do it and he’s the only other rules lawyer I know on this ship.”

Nautica threw her hands up. “All right, fine, I’ll do it.”

Swerve pumped his fist. “Awesome! Wait until I tell the others!”

*  *  *

“So, what do these things do?” Riptide asked as he held up a pair of dice.

“You roll them to make a move,” Swerve said as he took his seat at the round table. Nautica sat opposite of him, staring in complete bemusement at the holographic display projected in front of her. Swerve had made sure to make the hologram a complete replica of the Gamemaster’s Handbook. He had some difficulty because there were, like, five different versions, but he made it all work and just used the best parts from each of them. He was positive that Nautica would quickly get the hang of it.

Sitting next to Riptide, Blades was admiring the figurine that Ten had handcrafted for him as he had for the other players. His character was, according to the handbook Swerve had shown him, a dwarven barbarian. “We get to smash these things together when we fight, right?”

Swerve shrugged. “If you want to, I guess. The books I read didn’t really say anything about that.”

Hound looked up from the figurine of his Cleric and regarded the confused Nautica with a concerned look. “Do you want me to…?”

Nautica waved a hand. “No, no, I’ve got it.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I’ve spent a little time on Earth, so I have an idea about how humans—”

“Trust me, I’ve got it.”

Sitting between Hound and Rewind, Rung looked over to Swerve. “So, when do we start playing?”

“Well, this is just a Session Zero,” Swerve explained. “This is just a way to get a feel for the game and see what we’re all comfortable with.”

“What kinds of things would we not be comfortable with?” asked Rewind.

“Well, you know, things like… romance! Sometimes, players will have their characters get together romantically even if they’re not in real life.”

“Kind of like actors?”

“Yeah, exactly!”

Blades scowled. “Well, I’m sure as hell not hooking up with anyone here. My barbarian only likes smashing dragons, not smashing lips together!”

“And that’s perfectly fine,” Swerve said. “Again, whatever makes you guys feel comfortable.”

Riptide sighed, rolling the dice around in his hands. “I’m still so confused. What are all these dots for?”

“That’s the number on the die,” Swerve said. “You add them up and—”

“Why not just use actual numbers instead of dots?”

“Because—”

“Oh!” Nautica exclaimed. “Now I know what I’ve been doing wrong! I’ve had the display upside down this whole time!”

Rewind sighed as he rested his head in his hands. “This is gonna be interesting, I bet.”

Session 1

“You meet in a tavern.”

“What’s a tavern?” Blades asked.

Nautica winced but Hound saved her from answering. “It’s like a bar. Like what we’re in now.”

“Why not just call it a bar then?”

“It’s supposed to be archaic,” Swerve said. “Dungeons and Dragons takes place a long time ago, before dragons went extinct.”

Blades slowly nodded. “Right. Got it.”

Rung looked around the table. “Has anyone seen Riptide?”

“I think he forgot to show up,” Rewind said. “Does someone want to message him or…?”

“We can wait until next time,” Swerve said. “I don’t think he even rolled up a character.”

Nautica cleared her vocal processor. “Right, okay. So you meet in a tavern. Hound, what’s your character doing?”

“I’m going around the room, spreading the good word of Primus,” Hound said, mimicking the motion with his Cleric figurine.

“Primus doesn’t exist in this world,” Swerve interjected.

“The human equivalent then.”

“Oh!” Rewind raised a hand. “Can I be his bodyguard or something? I looked it up and paladins are, like, religious knights, and if Hound’s cleric is a religious leader, then it makes sense that the two would go together, right?”

Swerve looked to Nautica. “Your call, Dungeon Master.”

“Um, sure.” Nautica shrugged. “I don’t see why not. What about you, Blades? What are you up to?”

“I’m sulking in a corner, sharpening my axe,” Blades said sullenly.

“Rewind and I approach him,” Hound said.

Blades pounded his fist on the table, a gleeful expression on his face. “I swing my axe at them and chop their heads off!”

The entire table went silent, with some looking back and forth between Swerve and Nautica. Nautica looked to Swerve but the white and red minibot merely shrugged, gesturing to indicate that the choice was in her hands.

After taking a moment to look at her handbook, Nautica took in a breath before looking over to Hound and Rewind. “Roll for initiative. You too, Blades”

The two exchanged glanced before rolling their respective dice. Blades did the same. Hound looked up from his and said, “Eighteen,” while Rewind said “Twenty.”

Blades scowled. “Four.”

Nautica looked back at her guide and her face brightened. “Okay. Blades swings his axe and misses, tripping over his feet and falling face first on the floor.”

Hound and Rewind laughed as they high-fived each other. Blades, meanwhile, crossed his arms as he sunk back in his seat. “Just lucky,” he mumbled under his breath.

Rung raised his hand to get everyone’s attention. “I notice the commotion and walk over to see what’s going on. I am playing a healer, so my first priority would be to—”

“I’m fine,” Blades snapped. “I get back up and dust myself off. I’m fine.”

“Okay,” Nautica said. “So, now that you four are together… Swerve, where are you?”

Swerve beamed. “Oh, I’m not at the tavern. You guys haven’t met me yet.”

Nautica frowned. “I thought everyone was supposed to meet in a tavern.”

“Traditionally, yes. But who says we have to follow tradition? Let’s subvert expectations a bit. Trust me, when I show up, it’s gonna be a big moment. Just you wait!”

Session 2

“Anytime you could show up would be great,” Blades muttered.

“Let’s not deus ex machina this,” Swerve said. “Trust me, it would ruin the moment.”

“Okay, Rewind, the tentacle monster has a tendril wrapped around your neck,” Nautica said. “What do you do?”

“I, uh, cut it with my sword?” Rewind asked tentatively.

“Roll.”

“For what?”

“Uh, initiative.”

“I thought I already—”

“I don’t know, just roll your dice, okay?”

Rewind did so. “Sixteen.”

“Okay, your sword cuts through the tentacle and you manage to free yourself.”

“We make a run for the exit,” said Hound.

“No!” Blades interjected. “I cut the monster to pieces with my—”

“Blades, you’re dead, remember?” Nautica said.

He deflated. “Oh. Right.”

“Can we carry his body out of the cave?” Rung asked.

“If you’re quick about it, sure,” said Nautica.

Swerve watched as everyone played out their parts. He was pretty happy to see that they were all seeming to get the hang of it. It was honestly pretty close to what he had been seeing from broadcasts showing humans getting together and making a whole performance out of their game…

As his optics fell on Rewind, an idea suddenly sparked in his head. “Hey, Rewind, you’ve got your camera, right?”

Rewind looked up at him. “Uh, yeah? I’ve always got it.” He tapped the side of his head. “Right here, remember?”

“Awesome! Okay, guys, I’ve got an idea.”

“Is your character gonna finally show up?” Blades groused.

“Soon! But first… have you guys heard of a show called Critical Role…?”

Session 3

“Okay, we’re rolling,” Rewind said.

“Oh, god.” Nautica put her hands to her mouth. “Am I supposed to say something?”

“Just introduce yourself,” Swerve whispered to him.

“Um, okay. Hello, everyone. I’m Nautica. I come from a planet called Caminus and, uh, we’re all Autobots and—”

Swerve ran over to Rewind and forcibly turned the Recordibot’s head so that the camera was on him. “And we’re playing Dungeons and Dragons! That’s right! Put in the headlines: ‘Alien Robots Play Dungeons & Dragons Live On Twitch!’”

“’Twitch?’” Rung asked.

“It’s a livestreaming platform. I had Rewind set up an account and everything.” Swerve looked back into the camera. “You are broadcasting straight to there, right?”

“Yes, Swerve,” Rewind said. “Please let go of my face.”

“Awesome! How many viewers do we have so far?”

“Five. And I think three of them might not even be real humans…”

“Not to worry. We’ve just started.” Swerve ran back to his seat and pushed forward his figurine. “You’re just in time, too, because we’re about to introduce my character: Swervius Maximus of the Highwinds! A dragonborn wizard!”

“Wait,” Blades said. “I thought the dragons were the bad guys. Are you playing a bad guy?”

“No, but I am, let’s say… morally ambiguous.” Swerve smiled slyly. The others simply stared at him blankly.

Rewind broke the silence. “Ooh. There’s been an uptick. Fifteen live viewers now.”

Swerve grinned. “See, I told you! Now then, let’s get started….”

Session 6

“You… want to join our game?”

“Sure,” Rodimus said, taking the seat that had originally belonged to Riptide. “I’ve been hearing the buzz and thought it would be cool. Gives me an excuse to not listen to Magnus drone on….”

“Okay,” Nautica murmured. “What character do you want to play? I have the books right here, so you can—”

“Oh god, I didn’t come here to do any reading.” Rodimus raised his hands. “Just give me whatever sounds the coolest and I’ll roll with it.”

“Um, okay.” Nautica perused through the guides. “How does a… lionfolk fighter sound?”

Rodimus rubbed his chin. “Lions are the ones with the big beards right?”

“Uh, they’re called manes, but… yes.”

“Awesome. Let’s go with that.”

“Okay, great! Now, let me catch you up on the campaign. Last session, we—”

Rodimus waved a hand. “You don’t need to do that. I can figure it out.”

Nautica frowned. “But we have five sessions worth of—”

“It’s all right. I can handle it. Let’s just play.”

Nautica sighed. “All right. Blades, you’ve just been resurrected by….” She cringed slightly. “Swervius Maximus. How are you feeling?”

“Like a million Shanix!” Blades exclaimed.

“Good. Now, your party has made it into the town of Erip’mav, which is ruled by a family of vampires.”

“LET’S CHOP OFF THEIR HEADS!” Blades roared.

“Calm down, Blades, we just got into town.” Hound sighed. “Besides, maybe these vampires are friendly.”

“We do have that vial of blood that we got from the shopkeeper’s chest,” Rung pointed out. “Maybe we could use that as a peace offering.”

Rodimus looked from one player to the next with an incredulous look. “Why are you guys carrying around blood? And what the hell is a vampire?”

Nautica glared at him. “I thought you said you could figure it out.”

“All right, all right. Never mind. Carry on.” Rodimus huffed exasperatedly. “When do I get show up?”

“You can show up now, if you’d like. Maybe your character is a resident of the town and greets the party.”

“Okay.” Rodimus waved at the others. “Hi everyone.”

“You need to state the action you’re performing,” said Rung.

Rodimus huffed. “I walk up to you guys and wave, saying ‘Hi everyone.’”

“Hello,” said Hound. “And what is your name?”

“Rodimus.”

“That’s it?” Swerve asked. “You don’t have a cool name for him?”

Rodimus glanced at him. “Do I need to to?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” said Nautica. “Besides, I’m sure ‘Rodimus’ fits in just as well as ‘Swervius Maximus….’”

“Yeah!” Rodimus grinned. “Call me Rodimus. Rodimus Prime!”

Nautica buried her face in her hands. “Solus protect me….”

*  *  * 

“…the Vampire Queen laughs as she holds up the severed head of the watchman!” Nautica held up her arms and let out a shrill laugh, startling more than a few members of the table. “’This is the fate that befalls those who defy us!’ she declares!”

“Wow,” Hound muttered. “And here I thought you hated acting….”

“All right, what do we wanna do, guys?” Rodimus asked. “I say we fight them!”

“Sounds good to me!” Blades agreed.

Rung sighed. “I suppose we don’t have much choice. That peace offering certainly didn’t go anywhere….”

“I draw my sword and cast a fireball!” Rodimus declared.

Nautica stared at him. “You’re a fighter.”

“So?”

“Fighters can’t cast fireballs.”

Rodimus frowned. “You let Swerve do it.”

“Because he’s a wizard. You’re a fighter. You can’t cast fireballs.”

Rodimus huffed. “Fine. So what can I do?”

“You can charge at her and swing your sword.”

“Okay, I do that!”

“Roll initiative then.”

Rodimus rolled his dice and counted them up. “Twelve.”

“You run up at the Vampire Queen and swing your sword. She catches the blade in her hands and pulls it out of your hands before pushing you back.”

“Scrap! I slash at her with my claws—”

“You’ll have to wait your turn. Blades, do you want to go next?”

Before Blades could respond, Rodimus suddenly pushed back his seat and stood up. “Sorry, guys, but I’ve gotta get back to the bridge. Captain stuff, you know.”

“Oh, okay,” Nautica said. “Maybe you can join us for the next session.”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll be there.”

Rodimus left the room, and as soon as he was gone, the rest of the players exchanged glances.

“He’s not coming back, is he?” Swerve asked.

“Nope,” everyone else said in unison.

Intermission

Rewind came running into Swerve’s bar excitedly, nearly knocking into Whirl as he made his way to the group’s table, where the others were enjoying refuels rather than playing the game.

“Guys! Guys! You’re not gonna believe this!” He jumped into his seat. “The stream of our latest session hit over a million views last night!”

“See?” Swerve exclaimed. “I told you it would be a good idea! If humans can make it big playing fantasy games, then so can robots!” 

“You bet! I’ve even been perusing human networks—they call it the World Wide Web, I think?—and people are just fawning over us! They’ve even made fan art of our characters!”

“Proof or it didn’t happen,” Swerve demanded.

Rewind reached into a compartment and brought out several physical images of said art. One showed Blades’s dwarven barbarian in a frenzy. Another showed Hound’s elven cleric and Rewind’s paladin going about their crusades. A third was a highly detailed portrait of Rung’s red-haired, bespectacled character. Finally, there was one that showed the winged Swervius Maximus casting magic into the sky.

“Wow,” Blades said as he looked at his picture. “They even got the right shade of blue for my face!”

“These are so badass,” Swerve murmured as he gawked at his fan art.

“And don’t worry, Nautica,” Rewind went on. “People are simply gushing over your performance in last night’s session, especially as the Vampire Queen.”

Energon flushed into Nautica’s cheeks. “Really…?”

“Yup! Just…” Rewind hesitated. “Maybe don’t search your name on the Internet.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing! It’s just… people really seem to like you.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“No! Not at all! It’s just that… humans tend to have strange ways of showing their appreciation. Ways that might come across as—”

“I’m looking it up.” Nautica brought out her datapad and began typing.

“No no no don’t—!” Swerve lunged to take the datapad out of her hands but Blades stopped him, grabbing him by the waist.

“She’s gonna find out eventually!” Blades said. “Just let it happen!”

Swerve could only watch helplessly as Nautica perused the human networks with a bemused expression. “Seems fine so far,” she murmured. “They do seem to draw me a lot more… curvaceous than I actually am, but it all seems innocent enough.”

She continued scrolling as Swerve groaned into his hands. Blades grinned wickedly. Hound and Rung looked confused. Rewind simply hung his head in shame.

Finally, it happened. “Oh my,” Nautica said.

“I am so sorry,” Rewind sighed.

“Is that a…?”

“It’s probably exactly what you think it is.”

“But we don’t have those.”

“They don’t know that.”

Nautica covered her mouth with a hand. “And that… that’s not Skids, is it?”

“Remember when he guest starred in Session Four? People think you and he had very good chemistry.”

“I was just playing as an enpeecee or whatever it’s called!”

“NPC,” Swerve corrected, his voice muffled by his hands.

Rewind shook his head. “Sadly, humans have difficulty separating fantasy from reality. Which could explain the popularity of this game, funnily enough.”

Nautica was silent as she slowly lowered the datapad, her expression a mix of emotions. Swerve lowered his hands but kept his gaze solely on the table.

“I understand if you guys don’t want to play anymore…”

“I mean, it has been fun,” Hound said. “Honestly. But I’m not sure if it can be a long-term thing. Humans have their ways to spend free time, we have ours…”

“Yes, and scheduling is something of a hurdle,” said Rung. “I already had to postpone too many appointments….”

“At least we defeated the bad guy!” Blades said. “That Vampire Queen was the bad guy, right? The one whose head I chopped off last session?”

“I mean, she was one of them.” Nautica sighed. “But, I think it might be a good idea to take a break. Maybe we can come back together when our schedules are more open.”

Rewind turned to a dejected Swerve. “You can also organize a new party, if you want?”

Swerve looked up at him. “I can?”

“Yeah, I’ve read that humans have multiple campaigns running simultaneously all the time. There’s over a hundred bots on board; I’m sure you can find at least a few that might be interested in playing. You can even DM!”

“What about the livestreams?”

“Don’t worry about that. I can keep on recording the sessions and I’ll figure out the Twitch channel.”

“What are you losers talking about?”

Everyone looked up to see Whirl looming over their table.

“Dungeons and Dragons,” Swerve said. “It’s a game that humans—”

“I know,” Whirl interrupted. “I’ve been watching the streams. Kind of boring, if I’m being honest.”

Swerve scowled. “Okay, then, butt out of our business if you’re gonna—”

“But I know how to make it not boring.”

Swerve frowned. “How’s that?”

Whirl waved a claw. “Follow me.”

Session 0

“…and those are the rules,” Swerve said in conclusion. “Any questions?”

“So we roll the dice and then shoot?” Strafe asked as he loaded up his gun.

“When you’re in combat, yes. But you won’t be in combat all of the time.”

“Most of the time,” Whirl piped in as he set up the practice targets.

“Do we get those little figurines like you guys did in Nautica’s campaign?” asked Atomizer.

“Only if you want. In this game, you basically are your characters. You don’t need figures to represent yourselves.”

“Are shooting ranges normal settings for these kinds of games?” asked Doubletap.

“No,” Swerve admitted. “But then, we aren’t the normal kinds of players. We rolling, Rewind?”

Rewind gave the thumbs up.

“All right, then. Let’s get this game started!”

Riptide sighed as he rolled around a pair of dice in his hands. “I’m sorry… but what do we do with these things, again?”

Transformers Regenerated: Beyond Imagination II, Chapter Eleven

 ELEVEN: ALPHA AND OMEGA

Autobot City, Earth

As soon as he had materialized on the transmat pad, Prowl began running in the direction of where the Timemaze was being kept. He could already hear Elita-One calling after him, but there was no time to waste. Converting to his motorcycle form in order to pick up speed, he eventually made it to Perceptor’s lab where the device had been installed. There, both the Autobot scientist and Brainstorm were standing in front of the Timemaze, staring at its multitude of screens which appeared to be going haywire.

“What’s going on?” Prowl asked as he shifted back to his robot mode.

“It just turned on all by itself!” Brainstorm exclaimed. “Thought we heard some voice coming from it… like someone was trying to call out to us.”

“That could easily have been a form of interference,” said Perceptor. “Still, I can corroborate that neither of us were near the Timemaze when it started—”

He was cut off by a blast of static coming from the monitors. On one of the screens, Prowl could make out the vague shape of someone’s head through the veil of white noise. His audio receptors automatically readjusted themselves as they picked up on what indeed sounded like a voice.

“Hel-o? C-n an-on- -ea- -e?”

“See?” Brainstorm said. “I told you it sounded like a person.”

Prowl shushed him before stepping closer to the monitors. Tentatively, he asked, “Who is this?”

“M- -ame i- G-gawa-t. I- cal-in- fr-m—”

Static obfuscated the rest of the speech. Frowning, Prowl looked over at the Timemaze’s controls, which connected to the device’s archway. “Perceptor, is there anyway you can pinpoint where they’re calling from?”

“I have not had the opportunity to properly study the Timemaze and how it operates.” Perceptor sighed. “But I can try.”

“Please. And quickly.” Prowl then paused as a thought crossed his mind. It was not a pleasant thought, but as he began to think about what could possibly be at stake, he realized that he may very well not have any other choice. “Actually, on second thought, give me a minute.”

With that, he quickly departed from the lab and made his way down to the brig, where Tarantulas was still sitting in his cell. As Prowl approached the cell, the Predacon scientist looked up and began to cackle.

“It’s already begun, hasn’t it?”

Prowl glared at him. “What are you talking about? Do you know what’s going on?”

“Come now, Prowl. Haven’t our conversations taught you anything?” Tarantulas brought his hands up and tapped his fingers together. “I have finally gotten their attention, despite your efforts to stop me. It won’t be long now.”

“Whatever.” Prowl opened the door to the cell and brought out a pair of stasis cuffs. “I need you to come with me. Someone is trying to contact us through the Timemaze and I need you to help us figure out where they are calling from.”

Tarantulas laughed. “As if I would help you, especially now of all times. Come now, Prowl. How naive can you really be?”

Prowl scowled. “If you won’t come willingly, then I will drag you there myself.”

“You can do that.” Tarantulas tapped his chin. “Or… you can check on your little techno-organic friend.”

Prowl’s scowl became a frown. “Sari?”

“I said: Or you can check on your little—”

Without waiting for him to finish, Prowl closed the cell again before running off again, this time searching for Sari Sumdac. As he went from room to room looking for her, Wheeljack came running up to him with an incredibly concerned expression on his faceplate.

“Prowl, I just got a call from Prime. He says that—”

“Not now, Wheeljack,” Prowl snapped. “Have you seen Sari?”

“Uh, not recently. Why?”

“Scrap.” Pushing past Wheeljack, Prowl continued his search, his spark pulsing rapidly the entire time. Eventually, he found a room that was occupied by Professor Isaac Sumdac and, to Prowl’s relief, his daughter Sari. Upon seeing Prowl, Sari got up from the chair she had been sitting in.

“Prowl? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Prowl replied. “But it involves you.”

“Me?” Sari’s expression was one that wasn’t so much confused as it was worried. “How?”

“I’m not sure yet. Someone seems to be calling us through the Timemaze and Tarantulas is being ominous as usual. I need you to come with me.”

Sari nodded before donning her armor and using her repulsors to follow Prowl back to Perceptor’s lab. As soon as they arrived, Prowl saw that the viewscreens on the Timemaze were no longer showing static but were instead blank, showing nothing but a black screen.

“Did it shut off?” Prowl asked.

“I do not believe so,” Perceptor replied. “I’m still detecting an output of energy. Plus, I can still hear it humming as if it were still activated.”

“We didn’t hear anything else from… whoever that was,” said Brainstorm. “We’re still trying to pinpoint just where exactly—”

He was cut off by the sound of skidding as Wheeljack came peeling into the room, rolling on the tires built into his feet. “Prowl, this is really serious,” the Autobot scientist said. “Prime just called me and he says that the Ark’s records have been entirely erased!”

Prowl stared at him, mouth agape. “What?”

“And what’s more is that I can’t even get access to Teletraan-I! I haven’t gone to the Command Center yet, but I radioed Elita, and she said—”

“Uh, guys?” Sari said quietly. “Something’s happening on the monitors.”

Prowl turned back around, and instantly froze. The screens of the Timemaze were back on, and a face was now clearly visible on the screen. A face that, while not an exact match, was a dead ringer for Megatron.

From all screens, a cold yet smooth voice spoke. “I am alpha and omega. The beginning and the end.”

At that moment, the Timemaze’s archway came to life as a portal materialized within it. Through the portal, Prowl could make out the outline of a large figure with massive, almost dragon-like wings. While he did not recognize the strange mech, Sari appeared to, as she immediately deployed her arm blades.

“No. No! Not you! It can’t be…”

She let out a cry of rage as she lunged at the incoming figure, moving too fast for Prowl to stop her. The face on the screens continued speaking.

“I am that which is, which was, and is yet to come.”

“Sari!” Prowl ran forward, summoning one of his throwing stars to his hands. The silhouetted figure raised an arm, which seemed as if it ended in a dragon’s tail, and extended it towards Sari, catching her with its clawed end. The figure then raised their other arm and unleashed a stream of fire at Prowl, causing him to stagger back.

“And you will know my name is Megatron when I lay my vengeance upon you.”

When Prowl recovered from the attack, the figure was already walking back into the portal, taking Sari with him. Without a second thought, and ignoring the warning cries from Perceptor and the others, Prowl ran after them, stepping through the portal and falling towards whatever destination awaited him.

Savage Land

Grimlock groaned as his systems booted back online. His visual sensors came on and he was greeted with the sight of a ceiling made of green. He quickly realized that the ceiling was in fact a canopy of treetops, and that he was back in the jungle rather than in the Predacons’ fortress.

Sitting up, he saw that the other Dinobots were nearby, coming back online as well. Slash was tending to them, and as Grimlock looked down he saw that Wheelie was by his side.

“What… what happened?” Grimlock asked. “How did…?”

“The fortress collapsed,” Wheelie explained, forgoing his usual rhyming scheme for the sake of clarity. “Sky Lynx managed to dig us out, and then we found you. The Predacons are all scattered; no idea what they could be up to. They’re probably just as confused as we are.”

“Where’s Sky Lynx now? Did he say what happened to him when we lost contact with him?”

“He says he had spotted Predaking arriving on the island. He went to confront them but got knocked out. He’s out searching for them and Tripredacus now.”

“Shouldn’t do it alone,” Grimlock grunted. “Should have waited until we were available to help.”

“I know,” Wheelie said. “I tried to tell him, but… he seemed pretty confident about his abilities.”

“Hn. Just like Sky Lynx to do that.” Grimlock looked around, noticing the presence of several Maximals. Many of them appeared to be wearing morose expressions, not just out of confusion or shock from what had just happened. “Did everyone make it out okay?” he asked tentatively.

Wheelie looked down. “Some Maximals were lost in the fight with the Predacons as well as the fortress’ collapse. I believe one of the casualties was Vicarius, your… doppelganger.”

“Hn,” was all Grimlock had to say to that.

The next several minutes passed on in solemn silence; a silence which was broken by the sound of thrusters as Sky Lynx swooped in from above and landed amidst the impromptu Maximal-Dinobot camp.

“My friends, I am afraid I have lost sight of the two terrible titans,” the massive Autobot said. “But not to worry! I can carry us all back to Autobot City so we can regroup and strategize our next plan of action!”

“Are you sure you can carry us all?” asked Rhinox from the group of Maximals. “There’s quite a few of us…”

“Oh, you would be surprised, my friend. Size can be deceiving, especially when you take mass-shifting into account!”

“Wheeljack told me that mass-shifting was a myth,” Rhinox muttered.

Sky Lynx seemed to disregard the remark as he converted to his transport mode, lowering his ramp. Figuring that there was not much point in arguing otherwise, the Dinobots and Maximals began to board the large Autobot. As they did, Grimlock spotted Primal and moved over to walk alongside the Maximal leader.

“Were you able to rescue everyone that the Preds had captured?” he asked.

Primal dipped his head. “I did a headcount and we seemed to have gotten everyone… save for the ones we lost in the fortress’ collapse. Also… we haven’t found any sign of Lio Convoy.”

Grimlock stopped to look at him. “Should we go back for him?”

Primal sighed. “We looked everywhere for him—you guys were out for a long time—but there’s still been nothing. Everyone else is accounted for, dead or alive, so I don’t see why he wouldn’t have turned up. Unless, of course, the Preds have already taken him.”

“So, what? You want to leave without him?”

“Of course not… but a part of me feels that if he wanted us to find him, we would have.”

Grimlock tilted his head. “What makes you say that?”

“Reintegrating with us hasn’t been easy for him ever since the whole Mayhem incident.” Primal shrugged. “Even I still have a hard time trusting him now. I feel that, if he is still alive, he’s probably gone off on his own again, perhaps to find atonement through some other means. And if that is the case… then I feel that we should leave him to it.”

Grimlock grunted. “Not sure how I feel about that.”

“I know,” Primal said. “But at this point, we don’t really have many options. Maybe once we’re back at Autobot City, we can figure things out once we’ve talked with Elita and Optimus.”

With that, the two of them followed the others in boarding Sky Lynx, and within moments they were taking off, leaving the Savage Land behind. None of them knew why a portion of the land had inexplicably broken off and was now floating in the sky, but right now Grimlock did not want to dwell on such questions. There was still too much for him to sort out.

Making his way to where the other Dinobots and Wheelie were sitting, Grimlock took a seat opposite the rest of them. When he spoke, he addressed them all, but his optical sensors were focused on Slag.

“How is everyone feeling?”

Snarl shrugged. “Glad to finally be leaving this place.”

“Same,” agreed Sludge.

“Hope I don’t see any more Predacons for a while,” said Swoop.

Slag met Grimlock’s gaze and snorted. “Better than earlier, I guess.”

Grimlock merely nodded. The Dinobots had never been the most vocal or open bunch; what they said here was probably the best he was going to get.

And he didn’t see much problem with that.

A quarter of an hour had passed when Sky Lynx’s voice cut in over the intercom. “We… seem to have a problem, I’m afraid.”

Grimlock stood up from his seat, as did Primal. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t get in touch with Autobot City. In fact, I can’t get in touch with anyone.”

“Could be interference still,” suggested Primal. “Just fly us straight back to Autobot City and we can—”

“That’s just it, Primal; Autobot City is gone!”

“What?!” Grimlock exclaimed.

“Apparently the Savage Land is floating just above where Autobot City would be… but it isn’t there. In fact, nothing is there. It’s all just vegetation and animals and… I don’t see even the smallest hint of human life!”

Murmurs broke out among the crew. Grimlock exchanged a glance with Primal, who seemed to share in his consternation. Before either of them could say anything, Sky Lynx spoke again.

“And… this is the strangest part, and I wanted to save it for last because there was no way I could lead with it… but there’s a second moon in the sky.”

To this, no one had anything to say. No one but Primal Major, who crossed his arms and huffed.

“Well, that’s just prime.”

*  *  *

Light years away, on a discreet alien planet, Bug Bite was filled with glee.

Everything was going exactly as he had hoped. Expanse was still locked in his alternate mode, unable to transform or escape. No one had any idea where in the galaxy he was, and even if they did there was no way they could stop him at this point. It was all about to go down. He had finally won.

There was just one last matter to address.

“It’s happening,” he said to the gathered holograms of Cybertronians projecting in front of him. “I’m finally about to set things right.”

“I don’t believe it,” said Crasher, crossing her arms. “After all these years, you really think this wild plan of yours is going to work?”

“Patience is always rewarded, old friend,” Bug Bite replied, grinning wickedly. “We may have had our setbacks, but it is all going to be worth it in the end.”

“’We?’” Bad Boy laughed rudely. “Don’t include all of us in this, pinhead. I certainly didn’t want any part in your lunacy.”

“Well, if you want me to take all of the credit, I gladly will.” Bug Bite’s optics went from one hologram to the next until they finally landed on one mech in particular, whose hateful eyes were glaring back at him. “Anything to say, Cy-Kill, before I commence the atonement of our people?”

Cy-Kill, leader of the Renegades, scowled at him. “If any of this ends up screwing things up worse than they already are, I’m going to have your head, Bug Bite.”

Bug Bite smirked. “I appreciate your support.”

He then pointed a remote control at Expanse, and with the press of a button the ex-Decepticon converted to robot mode, still unable to move or speak. He pressed another button and Expanse’s transwarp drive was immediately engaged.

“You know,” Bug Bite continued, “I had prepared a speech, but I don’t think any words would do this momentous occasion justice. So instead, all I shall say is… long live Gobotron!”

All the gathered Renegades could do was watch from afar as a great bright light emitted from Expanse’s transwarp drive and engulfed the whole world in white.

*  *  *

Prowl grunted as he landed on the ground, face first. The floor was metal, but it didn’t look like the floor of Perceptor’s lab. If anything, it made him think of Cybertron more than anything else.

He quickly got up to his feet… and immediately saw that he was, in fact, on Cybertron. Great metal spires stretched towards the sky, rising higher than any building he had seen on Cybertron, both before and after the Great War. From where he stood, he could see a variety of Cybertronians walking and driving about, both Autobot and Decepticon alike. But what stood out to him the most were the Transformers that looked unlike anything Prowl had seen before, with alien forms that looked almost as much organic as they were robotic.

As Prowl tried to take it all in, he noticed the approach of two Cybertronians, both bearing the same “alien” look. One of them, bearing a silver and maroon color scheme, nodded their head in greeting to Prowl.

“Welcome, offworlder. I understand that you may have some questions.”

“Offworlder?” Prowl frowned in confusion. “This is Cybertron, isn’t it? I’m from here.”

“Yes, but this is not your Cybertron. This is Axiom Nexus.”

“Axiom Nexus?” Prowl shook his head. “I… I don’t understand. You see, I stepped through this portal and…”

“Don’t worry,” said the other strange mech, clad in yellow armor plating. “We’ve heard all kinds of stories about how one ends up in Axiom Nexus. You are not the first, nor will you be the last.”

“Can you send me back then? Someone captured a friend of mine and I’m trying to find her.”

The silver mech frowned. “I’m afraid that we cannot do that. Not because we do not want to, but because….”

“Because what?” Prowl snapped.

“Because,” said the yellow bot, “there is nothing to send you back to. Your universe has been erased.”

All Prowl could do was gape in shock, unwilling to accept the words he had just heard. The silver bot picked up on his distress and stepped forward to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. At least, it was supposed to be reassuring, but it hardly did the trick.

“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Silverbolt, New Arrivals Coordinator for Axiom Nexus. I will help you through processing and we can—.”

Prowl was no longer listening. Before this “Silverbolt” even had a chance to finish, he kicked his legs up onto the other bot’s body and struck Silverbolt’s face with his foot. He then launched himself off the other mech and transformed to his motorcycle mode, speeding past the pair and zipping into the streets of Axiom Nexus, dodging security bots left and right.

“We’ve got a runner!” he heard the yellow bot cry. “This is Commander Cheetor to all units! We’ve got a Prowl from an undesignated Primax stream fleeing through the streets!”

From all directions, security bots came running towards Prowl, transforming into their alternate modes to take pursuit. However, many of them had bodies that were far more wider and clunkier than his, and his sleek motorcycle form allowed him to navigate through small and narrow spots much easier than they could. 

For once, he was actually thankful for Tarantulas for giving him this new body….

Still, he knew that his pursuers would not be giving up any time soon. He needed to find a place to hide, but even if this planet was Cybertron, this “Axiom Nexus” place was foreign to him, its layout nothing like Iacon. As he took a detour down an alleyway, he saw a robed figure standing in the middle of his path. Converting to robot mode, Prowl jumped up onto the walls and was about to run across them in order to avoid the obstacle only for the robed mech to suddenly reach out and grab him, pulling him off the walls.

As Prowl struggled to escape, the mech spoke to him in a hushed tone. “Come with me. I can help you hide.”

Something about the mech’s voice sounded awfully familiar, but he could not place it as he instinctively followed the mech into a small alcove. He could still hear the sirens of his pursuers wailing as the robed mech inputted a code into a hidden door, which opened and the pair quickly entered a small dingy room. The door slid shut behind them and the sounds of the city were muffled into silence.

Prowl exhaled to cool his overheated systems before looking to the robed mech. “Thanks for the save, stranger. I have no idea what’s going on…”

“You are not the first, nor will you be the last.” The stranger’s voice was definitely ringing a bell to Prowl’s audio receptors, but he almost did not want to believe it. It was too good to be true, and at this point he was quite fed up with deceptions and lies. “Rest assured, however, I can help you find a way home.”

“Right,” Prowl said, not bothering to conceal his doubt. “And just who do I owe my thanks to?”

The stranger turned on a small overhead light and pulled down his hood, revealing the visage of a purple and crimson mech with metal protrusions extending from his face. Not for the first time in the past ten minutes, Prowl was rendered speechless, unable to even speak the name of the bot standing before him.

“Judging by your expression, I think you know quite well who I am,” said Alpha Trion. “And rest assured… all shall be explained.”

TO BE CONTINUED

Transformers Regenerated: Beyond Imagination II, Chapter Ten

TEN: THE KING IS CROWNED 

He remembered the day like it was yesterday.

It was the third year of the First Great War, not long after the Kudon Act had been passed. He was still fresh out of the academy when he and his fellow graduates were thrust into the Elite Flying Corps after nearly half of the unit had been wiped out during one of the Decepticons’ early attacks.

He remembered standing there with his teammates, facing off against a sole Decepticon who had once been their comrade. They didn’t have a name of their own but was these days known as a Predacon; a member of one of the many disparate tribes that had been united under the Decepticon banner. The black and orange winged beast waved their golden sword high in the sky.

“I challenge you, Autobot, to a duel, one-on-one. Just the two of us. The winner takes the name of the loser.”

He remembered hearing Strafe snort behind him. “What kind of stupid rule is that?”

“It’s an ancient rule,” said Doubleheader. “It was how many Cybertronians earned their names during the War of the Thirteen Tribes.”

Strafe snorted. “Nerd. Anyway, this isn’t the War of the Nineteen Tribes or whatever. You don’t need to do this, Divebomb.”

Divebomb looked back at his comrade and shrugged. “Why not? He’s just one lousy ‘Con. I can take him.”

The Predacon grinned at him wickedly. “If you fight me, then you agree to the conditions I have outlined. Do you accept, Divebomb of Vos?”

Divebomb smiled back at him. “Hell yeah, I do.”

The rest became a blur, and before he knew it Divebomb was laying on his back, staring up helplessly at the sky. The Predacon laughed as he flew away while his comrades looked down at him in disgust.

“Loser,” said Strafe.

“I can’t believe you lost to him,” said Doubleheader.

“Almost makes me ashamed to be an Autobot,” said Dogfight.

The bot formerly known as Divebomb closed his eyes, trying to shut them out. When he opened them again, they were gone and replaced by a strange bestial figure looming over him. The beast warrior crouched down and extended a hand to him.

“On your feet.”

“Who… who are you?” he asked.

“Your past. And your future. Take my hand, and you will be able to reclaim your name.”

He looked at the hand and then at the strange mech’s face. There was something familiar about it; something warm and accepting. Without much hesitation, Swoop took the hand and stood up.

The Ark, Earth

“What exactly are we looking for here?” Bumblebee asked.

“Nothing,” Optimus Prime said as he paced around the interior of the Ark. “Not yet, at least.”

“Straight answers, please. I already have to put up with this from Perceptor…”

“Based on what we know about Expanse, he is capable of traveling across time and dimensions,” Optimus explained. “Meaning that, if Bug Bite now has access to his abilities, then he is likely using him to travel either forward or back in time.”

“And that brings us to here… how?”

Prowl looked up at Optimus. “You think Bug Bite is going to try and change history. Specifically with our awakening on Earth.”

“It is one of many possibilities,” Optimus said. “I’m not sure how we can stop him from here, if we even can, but if there is an opportunity to do so, I don’t want to miss it.”

While the Autobot leader continued pacing, Prowl walked over to the spot where Teletraan-I had once been. While the supercomputer had since been relocated to Autobot City, its original model still remained on the ship, and he was pretty sure he could still access the computer’s backup logs. If there was a way to view its records from the days leading up to the Autobots’ awakening on Earth, then perhaps they would be able to determine whether or not Bug Bite had tampered with history… at least before it was too late.

As he did this, Optimus paused to access his comlink. “Any luck in finding Expanse yet, Wheeljack?”

“Well, Perceptor got a blip of something on the radar. He’s still in the current year, in case that was your major concern, but he’s no longer on Earth. Still trying to pinpoint an exact location.”

“That’s good to hear. Keep working and get back to me as soon as—”

“There’s something else,” Wheeljack interjected. “You know that Timemaze thing we, uh, repossessed?”

“Yes…?” Optimus said tentatively.

“Well, uh, Brainstorm says it’s acting up. I don’t know exactly what that means, ‘cos he was talking really fast, but maybe Prowl could come back here and look at it.”

Optimus looked over to Prowl and the black and gold Autobot had already turned away from the computer, having overheard the conversation. “I’m already on my way,” he said as he hurried for the exit.

“Prowl is en route,” Optimus reported back to Wheeljack. “Keep me updated in case something happens.”

“Will do, Prime.”

While Prowl transformed and drove off, Bumblebee took his place at Teletraan-I, reviewing the data records that were now displayed on the computer’s monitor. As he went through them, a concerned expression began to cross his face.

“That’s strange….”

“What is it?” Optimus asked.

“A lot of the data has been either corrupted or lost. From Cycle 9701 onward, there’s virtually nothing.”

“Likely due to the crash.”

“Right, except… now I’m having trouble finding anything from before then. It’s as if there was never anything there to begin with.” Bumblebee looked up at Optimus. “Wheeljack didn’t have any trouble transferring Teletraan’s files from here to Autobot City, did he?”

“If he had, I’m sure he would have said something.” Optimus was now standing beside Bumblebee, studying Teletraan’s screen himself. Indeed, it seem as if every record that had been logged into the computer was being erased in real time.

“You don’t think we’re too late, do you?” Bumblebee asked quietly.

Optimus was silent for a long moment, simply staring at the screen that was quickly becoming blank. When he finally spoke, his tone was low and grave. “Let me get Perceptor and Brainstorm on the line. Before we run out of time….”

*  *  *

He remembered the day like it was yesterday.

The crowds roared as he threw his opponent across the stadium, sending him crashing into a wall. The bodies were quickly piling up, with Decepticons laying in every single corner.

“You’re gonna run out of bots to throw at me!” he laughed, raising his arms towards the arena’s primary observer.

The black and purple mech stared down at him, steam exhausting from the grill that served as his mouthplace. Exchanging a single glance with one of his lieutenants, Clench stepped forward and projected his voice to be heard by everyone in the arena.

“Send in the next fighter.”

Behind him, one of the gates opened and a massive purple Decepticon stormed in, swinging a mace that was nearly as big as he was.

“TREMBLE BEFORE THE MIGHT OF LUGNUT!”

Snarl grinned as he turned to face his opponent. “Oh, is that all? That’s really the best you have to off—”

Lugnut brought his mace down and the ground exploded beneath Snarl’s feet. The entire arena erupted in a storm of bodies and debris, mechanical parts flying everywhere. Snarl managed to stay on his feet throughout the entire ordeal, raising his arm to shield his face from the oncoming debris.

When the dust finally settled, he was standing in the ruins of what had once been the arena. Clench and his fighters were nowhere to be found, and instead he was surrounded by several Autotroopers, all pointing with their guns raised. They were speaking to him, but he could not make out the words; his attention was instead gravitating towards the solitary mechanoid standing across from him, their appearance indicating a bestial alternate mode.

“Who the frag are you?” Snarl asked.

The stranger deflected the answer as they instead said, “You are looking for a fight worthy of your talents.”

Snarl crossed his arms and shrugged, avoiding eye contact with the stranger. “Yeah, sure.”

“You are looking for the glory of mortal combat. That one fight that is a matter of life or death. Where only one of you will survive.”

“Okay, okay. You’ve got my number.” Snarl grunted. “What of it?”

The stranger extended a hand. “I can give you that battle. Just take my hand.”

Snarl looked up, glowering at the other mech. “And if I don’t?”

“Then you will keep fighting, never knowing the taste of true glory.”

Snarl stared at him in silence for what could very well have been an eternity. Then, ignoring the Autotroopers with their guns pointed at him, he walked over and took the hand.

Savage Land

“Grah!” Psychobat snarled with irritation as he retracted his needles from Wrangler’s necks. “What in Onyx’s name is going on out there?!”

Wrangler groaned as his optics flickered back on, recovering from the daze he had been under as Pyschobat had explored his memories. He wasn’t sure what the Predacon had managed to get out of him, but he was going to make sure that Psychobat didn’t get anywhere with them. First, however, he needed to figure out how to break out of his restraints….

Psychobat turned away from him and walked towards the door. The walls were shaking from whatever sort of battle was going on outside. Swinging the door open, the purple and green Predacon stuck his head outside.

“Can you guys keep it—”

Psychobat never got a chance to finish his sentence, as a green-feathered Velociraptor jumped out in front of him and closed its mouth over his head. With all of its might, the raptor tore the Predacon’s head off and immediately began munching on it, letting his body crumple lifelessly to the floor.

“Sweet spark, Gnash, I didn’t think you were that ravenous….” A raptor with white feathers then poked its head into the room and, upon spotting Wrangler, transformed into a mechanical robot mode. “Guys! There’s someone in here!”

“So?” the voice of a third raptor called back. “Just let Gnash eat them too.”

“No, Slice! I think he’s an Autobot. You know, one of the good guys.”

“Debatable,” Slice retorted.

Wrangler frowned as he stared at the white and gold raptor-bot. “Who… who are you? You look like Predacons, but….”

“Nope!” The white and gold bot proudly puffed out her chest. “We’re Raptoricons! Ten times better than those lousy Preds! Name’s Shred, by the way.” She pointed back to the green raptor still feasting on Psychobat’s remains. “That over there is Gnash. Slice and our leader Thrash are outside.”

“Uh… pleasure to meet you. I’m Autobot agent JP12.”

Shred winced. “Ooh, that’s a lousy name, even by our standards. Got a better one?”

Wrangler sighed. “Fine. Call me Wrangler then.”

“Now that’s more like it! C’mon, let’s get you out of there.” Shred then proceeded to undo Wrangler’s restraints, freeing him from the stone slab. “There! Now, do you have any idea why we’re floating up into the sky?”

Wrangler stared at the Raptoricon, confused. “No? What do you mean?”

“Oh, never mind. It’s probably nothing.” Shred transformed back into her beast mode. “Now come on! Let’s go scrap some Preds!”

Getting over his bemusement, Wrangler simply shrugged. “That’s something I can get behind, at least.”

*  *  *

He remembered the day like it was yesterday.

He was standing awkwardly in the room, listening to them shout and bicker. He heard his name constantly being spoken, yet he could not pick up what exactly they were saying about him. He could tell that none of it was good.

Eventually, his commanding officer threw his hands up in defeat. “I can’t live with him anymore, Magnus! He is more of a hindrance than an asset!”

Delta Magnus steepled his hands over his desk. “You want me to transfer him out of your unit?”

“Yes! Please! I’m so sick of having to dig him out of the same pits that he makes!”

Delta Magnus sighed. “Very well. I’ll see to it that it’s done.”

Sludge blinked and the scene changed. It was the same room, and Delta Magnus was still there, but the commanding officer was different. Their exchange was nearly identical to the last, and Sludge blinked again. The cycle repeated itself, again and again. He was already losing track of the times he had been transferred to another unit. How long before he was drummed out of the Primal Vanguard entirely?

When he blinked for what had to be the hundredth time, there was no Delta Magnus or commanding officer. Instead, a strange bestial warrior was sitting at what was Magnus’s desk. The mech stared at Sludge over folded hands.

“You are scared of not finding somewhere to belong,” the stranger said.

Sludge shifted awkwardly, unsure on what to say.

“You are tired of being written off as a clumsy oaf,” the stranger continued. “Of being overlooked for anything but your sheer strength.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Sludge rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “Sorry, but who are you, exactly?”

“I’m the one who’s going to give you that sense of belonging. I’m the one who is going to recognize you for more than just being a clumsy yet powerful oaf.” A wicked grin crossed the beast’s face. “I am Volcanicus. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

He extended a hand and Sludge, not seeing anything wrong with what the strange mech was saying, eagerly stepped over to shake it.

*  *  *

“We’re floating. The island is floating.”

“What?” Terrorsaur shoved aside Scorponaut to peer out of the fortress’s window. All he could see was the surrounding jungles of the Savage Land. “The hell are you talking about?”

Scorponaut squeezed back next to him and pointed outside with one of his claws. “Look at the horizon. The mountain line isn’t there anymore. It’s like… it’s like the part of the land that we’re on is breaking off and rising up towards the sky. Can’t you feel the shakes?”

“I do but I thought that was just because of the escaped prisoners.” Terrorsaur shook his head. “I still think you’re talking nonsense.”

While the two Predacons continued bickering, Blackarachnia was pacing back and forth, hoping her anxiety wasn’t too obvious. Ever since the Predacons had established base in this “savage land,” she had always felt that something was off about it, and it wasn’t just because of the humans and creatures that were supposedly temporally displaced.

She cast her mind back to half a year ago, when she and the rest of Gnashteeth’s band of Predacons (”Darksyders” as Terrorsaur liked to call themselves) had fallen through something called the Warren after attempting to make a transwarp jump. The attempt had torn the ship asunder and she and the rest of the crew, save for Gnashteeth, had been deposited here in the Savage Land. It wasn’t long after that that the rest of the Predacons somehow found their way to the mysterious realm, and the Tripredacus Council set up fort in a fortress they had just discovered. Then the Maximals started showing up, bringing them to this current conflict.

Everything about it felt almost… engineered. As if it had been planned and arranged by some mysterious force. Was Gnashteeth behind it, perhaps? No one had seen him in the last six months, and it wasn’t the first time he had vanished without explanation. He hadn’t even explained the journey he had went on during his first disappearance…

The not knowing drove Blackarachnia insane. If no one was going to give her the answers she sought… then she would have to get them herself.

Transforming into her spider mode, she quickly skittered out of the room, leaving Terrorsaur and Scorponaut to their devices. As she made her way through the maze of hallways, she could hear the sounds of battle still going on between her fellow Predacons and the escaped Maximals. She turned a corner that she hoped would lead her away from the battle… only to run straight into a gray-furred winged Maximal.

“Stop right there, evildoer!” Silverbolt proclaimed as he raised a pair of swords. “You shall not get past me!”

“Oh, for spark’s sake.” Blackarachnia sighed as she transformed to her robot mode and readied her crossbow. “I really don’t have time for this. Get out of my way or I will blast you straight to the Pit.”

Silverbolt seemed to stagger in his stance, although he seemed less taken aback by her threat and more by her appearance. Blackarachnia was well aware of the fact that her Predacon body bore a striking resemblance to female organics, and the other Predacons liked to remind her of the fact by making disparaging remarks towards her. Silverbolt, for his part, did not make any such remarks and instead struggled to maintain his defensive stance.

“I do not seek to fight you, maiden,” the Maximal Fuzor said. “Lay down your weapons and I shall bring no harm to you.”

Blackarachnia sneered. “I don’t think so. This is your last chance to get out of my way.”

Silverbolt narrowed his eyes and the two stared at each other in a standstill as the fortress trembled around them. Eventually, Blackarachnia couldn’t take it anymore and she fired her crossbow, launching a web of energy straight at the Maximal. Silverbolt crossed his blades in an attempt to block it but it was no use, and his body immediately seized up before falling to the ground.

Smirking to herself, Blackarachnia sauntered over to where the Maximal lay and crouched down, bringing her face close to his.

“I do appreciate your chivalry though. It’s pretty refreshing.”

Unable to move or speak, Silverbolt could only stare in silence as Blackarachnia continued on her way. Keeping to the shadows, she used her beast mode to crawl on the walls and ceiling, avoiding other escaped Maximals as they ran from their cells and towards the sounds of battle. None of them noticed her as she made her way towards the chambers of the Tripredacus Council.

She came to a stop when she heard voices shouting up ahead. At first, she thought someone had spotted her again. But as she inched her way forward, she instead saw a white and red Maximal shouting out orders as he released a group of his comrades from their cell.

“Wolfang, see if you can find where Primal is! Sonar, Nightglider, go join up with Silverbolt!”

Blackarachnia narrowed her eight eyes as she recognized the appearance of Leo Prime, former leader of the Maximals. From what she understood, he had long since been disgraced after he had led a small band of anarchists here on Earth six months ago. Why the Maximals would continue to put up with him, let alone his orders, was beyond her.

As the escaped Maximals ran past, unaware of Blackarachnia’s presence above them, Leo Prime transformed to his lion form and began running in the opposite direction. Blackarachnia immediately took pursuit, quickly deducing that he was headed for the same destination as she was.

“Fool,” she thought to herself as she followed him. “Do you really think you can take on the entire council by yourself? Such typical naivete.”

There were about a few turns away from the chambers when Leo Prime abruptly stopped and turned around, his lion’s mane unfurling to reveal a pair of blasters. He fired them and Blackarachnia cried out as she came crashing down.

“You think I wouldn’t have sensors to tell me when I’m being followed?” Leo Prime growled as he transformed to robot mode.

Blackarachnia hissed back at him as she did the same. “You’re an idiot if you think you can confront the Tripredacus Council all on your own. I don’t think you quite realize what they’re capable of.”

“I know enough,” Leo Prime grunted. “Besides, I’d rather die fighting them than to live with the knowledge that I ran. I already have so much to make up for… might as well do it here.”

“So you’re doing this for atonement?” Blackarachnia snorted. “Your Maximals are already forgiving enough as it is by keeping you around. This might be a bit of an overreaction on your part.”

“Whatever. I don’t need advice from a Predacon.”

The former Maximal leader turned to leave and Blackarachnia smirked. “Never turn your back on a femme fatale,” she whispered.

Before Leo Prime had a chance to react, an energy web from Blackarachnia’s crossbow hit him in square in the back. Even before he hit the ground, she was already stepping over him and making her way towards the Council Chambers

As she turned the corner, she expected to see some of the Council’s guards. Instead, however, the stairwell leading up to the doors was vacant of anyone, guard or otherwise. Not wasting any time to dwell on their absence, Blackarachnia made her way up to the doors and pushed them open.

She immediately wished she hadn’t.

*  *  *

He remembered the day like it was yesterday.

He was sitting in the brig, because apparently having a severe disagreement with your field commander was cause for lockup. He had long since lost track of the time; he wasn’t sure if it had been months or years by this point. He heard the cell door open but he did not look up; he knew his time wasn’t up yet.

“Good news, Grim’,” he heard the warden said bitterly. “You’ve got a new cellmate.”

This time, Grimlock looked up, just in time to see a red and gray mech be shoved into the room. The newcomer immediately fixed him with a nasty look.

“You,” Slag growled.

“Me,” Grimlock replied.

Slag shook his head as he sat at the wall opposite of where Grimlock was sitting. “Remember this day too well. What was it you were in for? Getting into a fight with your field commander?”

“Something like that. Least I didn’t shoot him in the back.”

Slag smirked. “Certainly seemed to impress you at the time.”

Grimlock sighed as he leaned forward. “I can tell you’re upset with me, Slag.”

“What gave it away? Me punching you in the face?”

“You were never really subtle.”

Slag snorted as he crossed his arms, looking away from Grimlock. “You showed weakness. Let Scorponok beat you.”

“Is that all?”

“You were in the CR chamber for six months. You’ve gotten out of there quicker for less.”

Grimlock grunted. “I’m getting old, Slag. We both are. Been at this for too long, fighting in too many wars. For too many Primes.”

“Can agree on that,” Slag muttered.

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” Grimlock asked. “There has to be, for you to be acting like this.”

Finally, Slag turned his head to meet Grimlock’s gaze. “You remember why we became friends? Why we even formed the Dynobots in the first place?”

“So we could do things our way. Not follow orders.”

“Yet here we are, trying to rescue some Maximals… because we were ordered to. We defended cities from Waruders because we were ordered to. We fought Decepticons because we were ordered to.”

“You enjoyed it, though,” Grimlock pointed out.

“Besides the point,” Slag snapped. “Point is, you not the same mech I knew back when we first met in this brig. You make a big show about not carrying about Prime and his methods, yet you don’t seem to fight it. You just shrug your shoulders and go along with it.”

Grimlock was silent as he listened to his comrade’s rant, and even when he was finished he had no words to say. No rebuttals to offer. Because deep down, he knew that Slag was right. He had become complacent in recent years, become less defiant as he had back in the early days of the war. Perhaps it was because of age and fatigue… or perhaps it was weakness.

“A weakness that you can both overcome.”

Grimlock moved with a start and both he and Slag turned to see a tall bestial figure standing there in the cell with them. He wasn’t sure how, but Grimlock somehow knew that this was Volcanicus, the original Beast King of Eukaris as described by the Tripredacus Council.

Volcanicus raised his arms to the two Dinobots. “Your comrades have already joined me in unity. Follow your brothers in coming together and unlocking your true potential.”

As he said this, the other three Dinobots suddenly appeared from behind Volcanicus. Sludge, Snarl, and Swoop stared at their two comrades with expectant smiles.

“Come, friends,” said Swoop. “Let us become one.”

Slag exchanged a look with Grimlock before rising to his feet. “Just what’s going on here?”

“Join us and we can show you,” said Sludge. “All of our worries and concerns will go away… once we become Volcanicus.”

“No.” Grimlock stood up as well, getting between Slag and the others. “This is what the Predacons want. For us to become some mindless beast that they can control.”

“What difference does it make?” Snarl asked. “Everyone else thinks we’re mindless beasts. Doesn’t matter if they’re ‘Bots or ‘Cons.”

“No! Dinobots are more than that!”

“Yes,” said the specter of Volcanicus. “You can become more than just mindless beasts. You can become a god.”

Grimlock shook his head. “Give me a break. You can’t be dumb enough to believe this scrap.”

At this, expressions of doubt began to fall onto the faces of Swoop and the others. Meanwhile, a scowl began to appear on the face of Volcanicus.

“You would turn down a chance for glory?”

“Dinobots have plenty of chances for glory,” Grimlock retorted. “Can’t enjoy that glory when you’re part of a combiner.”

Snarl stirred at this, seeming to break out of whatever trance Volcanicus had placed him under. After a moment of thought, he walked over to stand beside Grimlock and Slag.

Volcanicus scowled in annoyance. “Even if you find that glory, will you find a place to stand among the rest of the Autobots?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Grimlock replied. “Dinobots are Dinobots. We stand together, with or without anyone else.”

Sludge was the next to join the group. Growling, Volcanicus grabbed Swoop by the helm and hoisted him up, unsheathing a sword and holding it to his neck.

“Do you? Will you stand for each other, even if one of you is beaten and destitute? After all, there is no room for the weak among winners.”

“Dinobots aren’t weak,” Grimlock declared. “Even beaten, we always get back up… and we never turn our back on our own.”

Spreading his wings, Swoop managed to break free from Volcanicus’s grip and flew over to join his fellow Dinobots. Once united, all five transformed into their beast modes before turning to face Volcanicus.

The once and former Beast King sneered at them. “You are fools to pass up on the opportunity I have presented you. You clearly have the unity needed to combine… yet you do not.”

“Dinobots don’t need to combine,” Grimlock said. “Dinobots strong as is. We Dinobots… KING!”

As one, the five Dinobots opened their mouths and unleashed a conjoined stream of fire that quickly consumed Volcanicus in flames. Around them, the appearance of the military brig faded away, bringing them back to…

The Tripredacus Council’s chambers. The entire room had become engulfed in flames, and both Predaking and Tripredacus were on their knees, aghast at what had just transpired.

“Impossible,” Predaking murmured. “How could they have resisted…?”

Slag transformed to his robot mode and pounded his fist into his open palm. “Should’ve known better than to mess with Dinobots. Never ends well for ‘Cons when you do.”

“No matter,” Tripredacus said, rising back up. “If you refuse to fulfill your destiny, then you shall perish!”

Before either Predacon combiner could make a move, the entire room began to shake violently, causing everyone—including the two combiners—to fall to their knees.

“What… what is happening?” Predaking rumbled.

“The island….” Tripredacus shook his head in disbelief. “The island is rising up. We can feel it….”

At that moment, a column of fire erupted from the pit that the Dinobots had initially been knocked into, catching both combiners off guard. At once, Predaking separated into his five components, with Razorclaw staring in awe at the column of fire.

“What is this sorcery?” the Predacon leader exclaimed. “Just what exactly is this fortress you have discovered?!”

Eventually, the fire dissipated… and in its place hovered the winged form of a bestial mech, clad in white and purple armor plating. While Grimlock did not instantly recognize the strange newcomer, the five Predacons and Tripredacus appeared to, as they reacted to his appearance with complete and utter shock.

“T-Tigerhawk…?” murmured Tripredacus. “But… you’re supposed to be dead!”

“Not according to the will of the Vok,” responded the beast warrior, his voice booming and echoing throughout the room. “And it is by their will… that you shall perish.”

His hands began to crackle with energy, and Grimlock’s optics went wide behind his visor. “RUN!” he roared, pushing the other Dinobots in the direction of the council’s chambers, where a small gold and black Predacon femme happened to be standing.

Tigerhawk raised his arms and unleashed twin beams of energy, hitting the ceiling and causing it to collapse in onto the room’s occupants…