Transformers Regenerated: Prime Wars XVII, Epilogue

EPILOGUE

    "So Liege Maximo's still out there?"

    "Yup." Rodimus Prime leaned against the railing of the balcony, staring out into the night. "Onyx said he and Vigilem took off without a trace."

    "And what of the other Primes?"

    "Onyx, Nexus and Convoy have gone after him," Rodimus replied. "They took the other Titans with them as well. Vector's staying behind, I think."

    Behind him, joints creaked as his visitor sat down. "What about Soundwave? Wasn't he a Prime as well?"

    "Not as far as he's concerned. However, he has agreed to serve an advisory role to the new High Council, along with Shockwave, Starscream and Elita." At this, Rodimus paused before looking back at the bot behind him. "You know, there's always room for one more."

    "Oh no." The red and blue bot chuckled. "My time as a leader for this planet is over. It's time for someone else to take charge."

    "Still, I wouldn't mind the advice."

    Orion Pax hobbled forward and rested a hand on Rodimus' shoulder. "You'll always have it, my friend. If ever you begin to doubt yourself, just turn to me."

    Rodimus smiled back at his predecessor before returning his gaze to the night sky. Above them, Sky Lynx and the Lunabots were working hard to clear the wreckage of Luna 1. Lowering his tone, he said, "There's no way he could've survived that, is there?"

    Orion shook his head. "No."

    "Does it bother you? Knowing he's just... gone like that?"

    Orion sighed as he stared at the moon's remains. "He's been gone for a long time...."

*  *  *

    "Waspinator did nothing wrong! Please don't hurt Waspinator!"

    "Zip it, bugsie," Barricade snapped at the Predacon as he strode past the cells. "Whining's not gonna get you anything."

    Ignoring Waspinator's incessant whimpering, Barricade continued down the hall before stopping before the one that contained the solitary Gnashteeth. At Barricade's behest, the two Autotrooper guards left, leaving the Decepticon alone with the Predacon leader.

    "Let's see here...." Barricade studied the datapad in his hand. "Gnashteeth of the Beast Subjugation? Cycle 9187?"

    Gnashteeth said nothing, keeping his optics to the floor.

    "That's right, Scorponok had thawed out a bunch of M.T.Os for that. You were the only one to survive." Barricade smirked at him. "Come a long way, haven't you?"

    Gnashteeth glared at him as the Decepticon went on.

    "Anyway, seems like our new Prime wants to be gentle with you. Tomorrow, you and your Preds will be released but put on strict parole. Inhibitor claws, non-lethal deterrence chips, the works.

    "But I tell you, we've got our optics on you. Try anything funny and it'll be the VVH for you. This'll be your first and only second chance."

    Lowering the datapad, Barricade gave Gnashteeth one last pitiful look.

    "You may think you'll be cunning enough to work around the system. But face it, pal: all you've got is an ego the size of a planet. You're no Megatron and you never will be."

    With those spiting words, Barricade turned and left Gnashteeth to himself, completely oblivious to the sly grin creeping across the Predacon leader's face.

*  *  *

    "Gotta say, it hurts knowin' I'm gonna outlive these bots."

    Roadbuster simply nodded solemnly as he and Kup stood in front of the Trion Square Memorial Monument, modified to add the names of those who had recently fallen. Kup's tired old optics traced the names, from Prowl of Petrex to Ultra Magnus of Ambustus Minor (technically it should have said Minimus Ambus, but Rodimus Prime had insisted on the change).

    When his eyes fell on Impactor's name, the veteran Autobot said, "Has Rodimus said anythin' 'bout the state of the Wreckers as a group?"

    "Momentarily disbanded," Roadbuster grunted. "Least until we're needed again."

    "What about Springer? Any news on him?"

    "Still out of it."

    Kup frowned. "You think he'll ever wake up?"

    Roadbuster said nothing, staring forlornly at the monolith. With a sigh, Kup patted his arm.

    "He'll pull through, kid. Trust me on this."

*  *  *

    "Mesothulas, if you're hearing this, it means I'm dead."

    The message played on an endless loop in the spider's head as it stalked through the vents. It didn't mind. It was the only thing it needed to hear.

    "If you're the one who killed me, congratulations. I don't blame you."

    Through the grate, it watched as medics operated on a green and yellow bot. It took everything in the arachnid's power to not take him away then and there.

    "Because I know I'm not the easiest bot to get along with. Honestly, I'm surprised it's taken this long for someone to do the deed."

    One of the medic's let out an excited cry. The others rushed over to his side.

    "Before I go, Mesothulas, there's one last thing I need to tell you... whether or not it'll be true by the time you hear this, I don't know, but nonetheless...."

    On the repair slab, Springer's optics glowed to life.

    "Ostaros is safe."

    None of the medics could hear the happy squeal over their own cheers and remained oblivious as Tarantulas skittered away.

*  *  *

    "It's yours."

    Star Saber stared at Rodimus Prime as if he was completely knackered. Rodimus himself felt the same way for even saying those words, even more so for how easily he said them.

    "Are you... are you sure?" Star Saber asked, looking back at the Lost Light.

    Rodimus nodded. "Positive. I mean, hey, someone's gotta find the Knights of Cybertron. It just can't be me because... well, you know."

    "But... surely Dai Atlas would be a better fit for command?"

    "He's already chosen to stay behind and serve on the High Council." Rodimus smiled. "He even told me that you were more than capable of taking his place as leader of the Circle of Light."

    "Well, uh...." Star Saber looked abashed as he rubbed the back of his head. "Thank you for saying so, Prime. I won't let you down."

    Rodimus beamed. "I know you won't."

    "All set, captain!" Sixknight called from the ship's ramp. With him were Ginrai, Devcon, Flareup and Vector Prime. The latter raised an arm to Rodimus.

    "Fair tidings to you, Rodimus Prime! I wish you luck in future endeavors!"

    Rodimus waved back at him. "Right back atcha! Say hi to the Knights for me!"

    Star Saber looked back at him. "Are you certain that--"

    "More than certain." Rodimus patted him on the back. "The only thing stopping you is yourself."

*  *  *

    This was not at all how Cannonball had expected things to go.

    Plundering a backwater world like Earth sounded simple enough. After all, they were so technologically backwards that they would have not had an ounce of a fighting chance. It would have been child's play.

    So why, then, was he at the mercy of a giant lion?

    As the feline had him pinned, Cannonball looked to see that Ferak, Brimstone and the others had all been apprehended by the animal-looking Decepticons the lion had brought with him. They were unlike any Transformer Cannonball had seen before... and now they were commandeering the Tidal Wave away from Earth.

    "All systems are a go," reported a canine-like Monstercon. "Where to now, Prime?"

    The lion snorted. "Anywhere. The stars' the limit. By time we forge our own path rather than follow one preordained by someone else."

    Steel Jaw grinned. "I like the way you think."

    As he began to set in coordinates, the lion transformed and held Cannonball in place with his foot. Drawing a sword, Leo Prime aimed it at the pirate captain's face.

    "Now then... what did you say your name was?"

*  *  *

    "Wow. Even Roller?"

    "Yup!" Nightbeat beamed as he and Elita-One stood at the counter of Maccadam's, ran by -- to no one's surprise -- Swerve, Bluestreak and Blurr. Octane was also helping out, though he seemed to be more concerned with chatting up a burly Guncon that had been brought from Necroworld.

    "Censere -- the Necrobot -- had rescued them using the last part of Brainstorm's time machine," Nightbeat went on. "They were all on his list of the Disappeared, though he had only gotten a third of them before the Secret Order arrived."

    "I see." Elita couldn't help but smile as she watched Orion and Roller laugh and talk with each other, just like old times. Their reunion wasn't the only one either; nearby Rung was with his old crewmate Kaput, Doublecross (or was it Twinferno?) had reunited with his Monsterbot brothers, Nautica and Velocity were getting along well with a pair of explorers, and Scrounge was helping Blaster with sound mixing.

    It was a sight she had never expected to see in her lifetime. But she was more than glad to.

    "He did good work," she murmured.

    "Now that I can drink to," Nightbeat said, raising his oil can. Elita clinked her's against it before heading over to Orion and Roller's table, once more among friends.

*  *  *

    "Hey, I like this song," Stormshot said, tapping her fingers against the bar counter. "Who sings it?"

    "Uh, just a minute." Swerve quickly slid a drink over to an over-fueled Trailbreaker, who was trying to out-drink a sober Toxitron. "I think it's... Voyage? No, no, it's... it's... Bluestreak, what's another word for--"

    "Journey."

    "Journey, that's it!" Swerve grinned. "That guy's gotta hell of a voice."

    "Are they still making music?" asked Tailgate.

    "Yeah, but they kicked the Voice out so now they're just JINO."

    "JINO?"

    "Journey In Name Only."

    "Oh." Tailgate stared at his drink for a moment. "What about the Voice? Has he made anything?"

    "Yeah, he's got a couple of albums under his belt."

    "Can you play them?"

    "As long as you pay your tab."

    "Hey, Tailgate." A blue minibot came up from behind where Tailgate was sitting, snaking an arm around his. Tailgate looked at her in surprise.

    "Glyph?"

    She smiled at him. "May I have this dance?"

    "Uh, why, sure!"

    With that, the two minibots headed over to the dance floor, joining the likes of Nautica and Skids. Swerve made a face as he watched them go.

    "Love is weird."

    "Agreed." Stormshot smiled as she slid over her empty glass. "Got more Vixco?"

    Swerve beamed. "You bet!"

*  *  *

    "No. No, no, no. No."

    Thundercracker slowly lowered his shades, peering at Crosscut. "Come again?"

    The Autobot playwright ran a hand over his face as he stared at the Seeker's script. "How... how long did you spend writing this?"

    "About eight months. Why?"

    Crosscut was gobsmacked. "You mean... all this time... while we were dealing with Thunderwing and Predacons and Secret Orders, you were writing this... this rubbish?!"

    Thundercracker frowned at him. "Watch it, pal. I've got lawyers, you know."

    "Thundercracker, I can't... this is abysmal! This is... I've seen graffiti with more sense than this!"

    "It's avant-garde! People eat that stuff up!"

    Crosscut shook his head. "That may sadly be so, but even if I agreed to this, no one will want to partake in it. You can write this scrap, sure, but you sure as hell can't say it!"

    But Thundercracker was no longer listening. Instead he had moved on to a certain purple clone of Megatron sitting in a booth with Blitzwing and Rotorbolt.

    "Are you busy?" the Seeker asked him, grabbing his shoulder.

    Archforce blinked. "Uh, no?"

    Thundercracker grinned. "Then have I got the opportunity of a lifetime for you."

*  *  *

    "You know, they say Primes don't party."

    "Says who?" Rodimus Prime asked, popping open a fresh can of engex.

    Ratchet shrugged. "I don't know. People, I guess. Granted, for the longest time the only Prime we had to go off of was Sentinel and, well...."

    "I suppose that's fair," Rodimus said, drinking from the can. "I guess there's a first time for everything."

    "I'll say." Ratchet looked over to the dance floor, where Tailgate was attempting and failing at a head-spin. "If Ultra Magnus was here, he'd be blowing a gasket."

    Rodimus chuckled. "More like all of his gaskets. You should have been here earlier; Drift was balancing on his sword on Grimlock's back. I'm sure that breaks at least thirteen safety regulations."

    Ratchet glanced back at him and smirked. "We're not normal, are we, Prime?"

    "Normal?" Rodimus laughed as he raised can. "Normal jumped out the window a long time ago, doc. Nine thousand eight hundred and fourteen years ago, to be precise."

    Ratchet found himself laughing as well as he toasted to that.

*  *  *

    Light years away, on a hollow planet dominated by blue flowers, Viral stood alone before his statue, staring up at his own face.

    It was an outdated look, back when he still had a face rather than a mere screen. Still, it was a decent likeness; it was nice to look at it one last time before he started the next chapter of his life.

    Shaking the oversized cloak of the Necrobot, he looked down at the list of the Disappeared. Those Censere had already rescued were marked off, leaving Viral a good idea of where to start.

    Stardust of Ibex. Vanished Cycle 9518, Battle of Volna Major.

    The transwarp drive was already set to go. After taking one last look, the Necrobot deactivated the statue of Viral of Triax before activating the drive and vanishing into thin air.

THE END

...FOR NOW

Transformers Regenerated: Prime Wars XVII, Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

    "All right, hold still. I really want to get a good angle."

    "Swerve, I really don't--"

    "I said hold still!" Swerve threw his arm around Rodimus' neck before squeezing himself into the camera's frame. With a cheeky grin, the minibot announced: "Prime Selfie!"

    Rodimus Prime flinched from the resulting flash as the camera took the picture. Satisfied with the results, Swerve hopped down from his shoulder and ran over to rejoin Tailgate and Skids.

    "I bet you're enjoying this."

    Tensing up, Rodimus turned around to see Elita-One walking up to him, Prima's Star Saber still in hand. Behind her, Autobots and Decepticons alike were busy with clearing Iacon of deactivated Terrorbots and scattered combiner components, overshadowed by the dormant Titans.

    "Uh, not really," Rodimus said with a sheepish grin. "To be honest, it's... it's kinda overwhelming. I don't even know half of these bots and already they're revering me like some kind of...."

    "God?" Elita asked, an optic ridge raised.

    "I was going to say hero."

    "Don't worry." She placed a hand on his shoulder. "I understand what you're going through."

    Rodimus glanced at her. "Do you?"

    She nodded. "Optimus went through the same troubles when he became Prime. If he didn't have me and others to console and advise him... I'm honestly not sure how he would have handled it."

    Rodimus slowly nodded, his gaze drifting to Luna 2, which was once again Cybertron's sole satellite. "You know," he murmured, "he's still up there. If we can get him back and restore his body, then--"

    "Then the Matrix will still be yours," Elita said. "You've earned it, Rodimus Prime. You've saved us all."

    A cloud fell over Rodimus' face. "Not all of us. Not Ultra Magnus, or Prowl, or Whirl...."

    Elita frowned, and opened her mouth to say something only to be interrupted by the sound of a portal opening behind them.

    "Apologies for the wait!" Vector Prime said, emerging from the portal along with Onyx Prime. "We encountered some resistance in the form of some Predacons and a Decepticon, but we've saved him!"

    He proudly held up a container, which held the glowing green spark of Optimus Prime. Rodimus and Elita both smiled in relief.

    "Great," Rodimus said. "Take him to Ratchet. He'll know what to do."

    While Vector hurried off, Onyx came forward, yanking a chain. Behind him dragged what appeared to be Overlord, albeit with a face that resembled Megatron.

    "This is the aforementioned Decepticon," Onyx said. "What is thy will, Prime?"

    Rodimus fought back a wince. "Uh, let him go. He's just a Titan Master; a friendly one, at that. Thunderwing was just using him. He means no harm."

    Onyx nodded before breaking the chain. A relieved Doomshot detached from Overlord's body and jumped down, running over to an elated Brainstorm. Onyx watched him go before turning back to Rodimus.

    "And what of the Predacons? Shall they be punished?"

    "Uh...." Rodimus glanced at Elita, who simply shrugged to him in a gesture that said Your call. 

    "Bring them in, but don't hurt them," he finally said. "Right now, we've got other things to take care of. Just find a safe place to put them."

    Onyx nodded curtly before heading back into the portal. Once he was gone, Elita turned back to Rodimus with a smirk.

    "Now you're ordering other Primes around. That's gotta be something."

    Rodimus simply let out a tired sigh.

*  *  *

    "So... now what?"

    Krok said nothing as he sat next to Fulcrum atop the remains of an Overcharge unit. The other three Scavengers were busy doing what they did best: Scrounging the battlefield for parts. Misfire and Spinister were already arguing over a fuel pump, of which there were plenty.

    Fulcrum stared at his silent leader before glancing down, spotting something small and green on the ground. "Hey," he said, picking it up. "Is this a--"

    "A finger, yes," Krok grunted. "Radar's finger, to be precise."

    Fulcrum frowned. "Radar?"

    "A comm officer I served with during the war. Roadbuster tore out his spine and made him eat it."

    "Oh. That's... that's...."

    "I've been carrying his finger with me ever since," Krok went on. "It can trace Decepticon spark signatures. Which is why I don't need it anymore."

    Fulcrum tilted his head. "Why not?"

    Krok gestured widely at the various Decepticons that were present all around them. "We're all here. We're home. There's no need to scavenge for parts or help those in need. Our job is done."

    "Speak for yourselves."

    The pair looked up to see Spacewarp standing over them, sullen as always. With her was her Mini-Con partner Foldspace, as well as the former D.J.D. Mini-Con Nickel.

    "The Mini-Cons Demus had on Tebris was only a fraction of his greater collection," Spacewarp went on. "The guy owned fourteen moons. He's bound to be stashing others away."

    Krok stared up at his former comrade. "Are you expecting us to help you?"

    Spacewarp let out a drawn out sigh. "I still hate you guys to the very circuit... but I do need a ship to carry all these Mini-Cons... and a crew to maintain said ship."

    "So..." Fulcrum said. "You're asking us?"

    Spacewarp rolled her optics. "Don't make me second guess myself...."

    "We're in." Krok rose to his feet and extended his hand to her. "Glad to have you on board."

    She frowned. "I'm not joining you, you're joining me."

    "Phrase it however you want, results are still the same."

    Spacewarp glared at him for a moment before finally taking the hand and shaking it.

    "I'm going to get you for this, Krok," she growled.

    He chuckled. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you."

*  *  *

    "Leaving already?"

    "'Fraid so," Dion said, standing in front of a time portal with WALL-E and EVE. "There's nothing left for us to do here. Megatron's gone, so... whole case is pretty moot at this point."

    Skids nodded. "In any case, it was good to see you guys one last time. Say hi to Cop-Tur for me. And maybe AUTO as well."

    Dion beamed as he gave a thumbs-up. "Will do."

    With that, he began to turn towards the portal, only to stop when he saw a silver and aqua-colored bot walk up from behind Skids.

    "I'm coming with you," Ariel said.

    Skids looked at her in surprise. "What the--? What are you saying, Ariel?"

    "There's nothing left for me here, other than despair," she replied. "Rampage is gone, and the people who made me -- tormented me -- are still roaming around free. I can't... I don't want to remain here any longer."

    Skids frowned. "Are you sure about this? I mean... there won't be any turning back."

    Ariel nodded firmly. "I'm sure. This is my path, Skids. Thank you so much for helping me along the way."

    "Uh, no problem." Skids glanced at Dion. "This all right with you?"

    Dion grinned. "You kidding? Cop-Tur could use a big sister."

    At this, WALL-E jumped up in approval. Satisfied with this response, Skids smiled and nodded.

    "All right. Have fun out there... and be careful."

    Smiling cheerfully, Ariel gave Skids a quick hug before hurrying into the portal. Dion and the two Earth Robots shortly followed her as the portal closed behind them, evaporating into thin air.

   Skids stood there in silence for a moment before turning his head to the sound of music. Crowded around a boombox that looked a lot like Blaster were several of his fellow Lost Lighters. Nautica, Swerve, Tailgate and even Rung were dancing to the groove. Chromedome and Rewind were huddled together, Cyclonus was subtlety bobbing his head, Getaway seemed to be getting himself wasted, and Brainstorm was fiddling with some gadget while Doomshot perched atop his shoulder.

    "This song is amazing!" Tailgate exclaimed over the noise. "Who did you say sings this?"

    "Huey Lewis and the News!" Swerve replied.

    "Amazing! I had no idea news anchors could be so groovy!"

    As Skids stepped over to them, Nautica caught his eye and grinned. "Hey, Skids! Think you can apply your super-theoretician skills to dancing?"

    Skids chuckled. "Watch me."

    He moved to join the others... only to stop when he noticed a large flash of light from behind him. Turning around, he was greeted with the sight of several dozen bots -- all of varying faction -- standing before them. At the front of the crowd was a blue and yellow Autobot, lugging some kind of teleporter. Upon noticing Skids and the others, Nightbeat waved cheerfully.

    "Hey, guys! What did I miss?"

Transformers Regenerated: Prime Wars XVII, Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

    "Luna Two to Luna One. Beginning first phase of Ascension."

    "Excellent!" Quintus Prime cackled, operating the controls of Luna 1 to orient it to face Cybertron. "Everything is proceeding beautifully, my friend."

    As Cybertron slowly entered view, the ancient Prime prepared for the next phase. Once Thunderwing had succeeded in merging with Cybertron's core, his spark energy would be joined by that of Optimus Prime's as well as the Dark Energon that had once powered Megatron, awakening Primus from his eternal slumber and bringing every Transformer to heel so that the Quintessons could swoop in and dominate them.

    It made her giddy to even think that she was so close. She had had so many missed opportunities: Unicron had failed her twice, and getting the Transformers to tear each other apart had yielded hardly any results. Now, for the first time in nine thousand years, she was on the precipice of finally winning.

    She had never imagined victory could taste so sweet.

    Lost as she was in her thoughts, Quintus Prime utterly failed to notice the screw that had rolled into the chamber of its own accord....

*  *  *

    "Gorgeous, isn't it?"

    Rodimus Unicronus watched as Thunderwing stepped up to the glowing blue core of Cybertron. Cogs whirred eternally as its parts constantly shifted, never settling for one form; sometimes it was a sphere, others a cube. Cybertron was, like those who dwelt upon it, always transforming.

    "I had prepared a speech for this momentous occasion," Thunderwing murmured. "But honestly, are there any words that could do this justice? Years from now, historians will be debating endlessly on how to refer to this exact moment. 'Ascension' is simply mincing words."

    Rodimus felt his head twitch as images flashed in his mind. Ultra Magnus. Ultra Magnus dead. Drift. Drift dying....

    Standing next to him, Nemesis Primal glanced at his fellow herald, optics narrowed. "Are you all right?" he whispered.

    Rodimus twitched again. What was he even doing here? Why was he following this... this monster?

    Thunderwing paid neither of them any heed as he opened his chestplate, revealing the Matrix of Leadership within. "Now," he breathed. "For the moment of truth."

    Reaching in, he removed the Matrix from its chamber and held it up to Cybertron's core....

*  *  *

    "Listen," Infinitus said, staring at the silent Fortress Maximus. "All of you Titans... your ultimate loyalty is to Cybertron, correct?"

    "Correct." Fortress Maximus' voice was booming as ever, but something about it sounded different.

    "Well, Cybertron is in danger. I don't care how you see it; the Quintessons taking over is nothing to smile about. Sure, we'd be at peace, but if we're all mindless drones... what difference does it make?"

    The Titan's eyes dimmed. Infinitus was no longer sure if he was even still listening.

    "You know, I was almost a Prime," he murmured, more to himself than anything. "I was supposed to be one, until Galvatron came in and ruined everything. Since then, all I've wanted to do... is to make up for my absence. Do something to help a greater cause. And you know what?"

    Beneath him, the floor began to rumble.

    "If that means sacrificing myself to fulfill said cause..."

    The Titan continued to shake as it moved itself away from its brothers and pointed its bow at Luna 1.

    "Better later than never, I say."

*  *  *

    The beam of energy came out of nowhere, zipping past Rodimus' head. The herald was snapped back to reality as Thunderwing's own cranium was obliterated, leaving behind nothing but smoke emitting from the self-made Prime's neck. As Thunderwing fell, so too did the Matrix from his hands as it slid across the floor before hitting a pair of black feet.

    Rodimus and Nemesis both turned around in time to see the Fallen as he bent down to retrieve the Matrix. Nemesis Primal let out a roar as he charged towards the ancient Prime, only to receive the same fate as his master.

    "Honestly," the Fallen growled, lowering his Requiem Blaster. "To think that some upstart believed he could play God."

    Matrix in hand, he strode towards the core, paying Rodimus no heed. Red optics fixated on Cybertron's glowing center, the Fallen held up the mantle piece of the Primes.

    "I, on the other hand -- a first-named Prime -- am far more deserving of such power. I have not waited nine thousand years just to be upstaged by some mad scientist. This is my hour... and mine only!"

    He gripped either side of the Matrix, fingers curled around each handle.

    "Now... let there be darkness!"

    With that, he pulled on either side of the Matrix... which refused to budge.

    The Fallen blinked, optics dilating as he looked down at the relic. "What...?" He yanked again, only to encounter more resistance.

    "No!" he roared. "I am a Prime! You will not deny me this!"

    "See, here's the thing...."

    The Fallen whirled around only to receive a fist to the face. The ancient Prime staggered back, scowling as he lifted his gaze to Rodimus. The "Dark Matrix" clattered uselessly to the floor as the Autobot's black armor slowly turned red again.

    "There can only be one Prime." Rodimus flashed a smug grin. "And it sure as hell ain't you."

*  *  *

    Something wasn't right.

    Quintus Prime stared at her screen, Cybertron now fully in view. Everything was up and ready to go. All she needed now was the call from Thunderwing.

    So why had she not received it yet? Surely it couldn't be taking Thunderwing this long. And why was a Titan breaking off from the rest of the fleet and turning towards....

    Realization hitting her like a brick, Quintus lunged for the controls only for a metal chain to come out of nowhere and coil around her waist. Craning her head, she was greeted with the sight of an amalgamation of Junkion body parts. Dangling from a bent light pole was the mustached face of Wreck-Gar, grinning wickedly.

    "Goodnight song..."

    Quintus screamed as she tore at the chain wrapped around her, only for another to tie her arms together.

    "Played so wrong..."

    From behind the junk monster, Quintus spotted what appeared to be a tank drone, colored in yellow and green. As it stepped towards Quintus, it sang along with the abomination.

    "Blame the crowd..."

    Behind Quintus, Fortress Maximus advanced at full speed towards Luna 1. Tankor then brought both hands to the Prime's face and began to pull on it.

    "They scream so loud, so--"

*  *  *

    As Luna 1's destruction lit Cybertron's sky, below the surface the Fallen lunged at Rodimus, tackling him to the ground.

    "Matrix or not," the dark warrior snarled as he wrapped his hands around the Autobot's neck, "I don't need some bauble to assert my authority over you weaklings!"

    "You're right," Rodimus grunted. "It wouldn't do you much good in that case."

    He then thrust out his legs and kicked the Fallen off of him, sending the ancient Prime flying into Cybertron's core. The shifting shape caught the Fallen in its magnetic field and held him in place while Rodimus retrieved the Matrix.

    "No!" the Fallen roared. "What makes you think it'll possibly work for you?!"

    "Actually, I wasn't going to use it," Rodimus said. "But since you brought it up...."

    The Fallen's eyes went wide in terror. "You'll destroy us both!"

    "Correction," Rodimus said as he pulled on either side of the Matrix's container. "Just you."

    With ease, Rodimus opened the Matrix and the entire chamber was bathed in light....

Transformers Regenerated: Prime Wars XVII, Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

    Infinitus gasped as he collapsed onto the floor, smoke emitting from his scorched plating. Fortress Maximus' face continued to regard him with a vacant expression.

    "You are wasting your time," the Titan intoned.

    Infinitus coughed as he hobbled to his feet. "And you are wasting your individuality."

    "We are machines, Infinitus. We are not made to think."

    "Yeah? Then how come we do? How come we can think and feel and love?"

    "Glitches in the system," Fortress Maximus dully replied.

    "If that's the case, then I guess we're all glitched." Infinitus tilted his head. "Do you really think this, Cerebros? Or are the Quintessons just talking through you."

    "My will is the Creators' will. As all should be."

    "But at what cost? Wouldn't you rather be free than have to answer at someone else's beck and call?"

    "Freedom is the path to chaos. Only in subjugation is there peace."

    Peace. That was it. The Quintessons were controlling Fort Max and Cerebros through their shared pacifism. Peace was all the Titan cared about. If that was the case....

    "The Quintessons won't bring peace, Fortress Maximus."

    Fort Max's large red optics shifted. "You are wrong."

    "No, I'm not. Because they're not going to stop at Cybertron. Once we're under their thumb -- er, tendril -- they'll just move on to other worlds."

    Fortress Maximus was silent, allowing Infinitus to press on.

    "Sure, we'd be at peace... but the rest of the universe? Forget about it. So ask yourself this, Max: whose peace are you concerned about? Ours... or theirs?"

    The Titan said nothing, his silence pervading the room....

*  *  *

    "Monstructor... destroy!"

    The monstrous combiner lunged forward, colliding into Bruticus and pushing the Combaticon gestalt into a building. Cyclonus, Skids and Getaway all shielded themselves as debris fell on top of them. 

    Cyclonus scowled as he glared up at Monstructor. "If I die, I'm going to find Jhiaxus and kill him."

    "Y'know, now wouldn't be a bad time to merge into Galvatronus or whatever," Getaway said. "Heck, I'll even volunteer if you're in need of limbs."

    Cyclonus shook his head. "I do not have that ability in this body. Besides, that experience was one I do not wish to ever suffer again."

    "Well, we have a Prime who's a gestalt," Skids said. "Maybe he can--"

    He was cut off by the unexpected sight of Liokaiser -- a combiner made-up of Deathsaurus and four of his Decepticons -- fly overhead. The Decepticon gestalt collided into a building and fell atop of several Terrorbots, crushing them.

    "Oh hell," Getaway exclaimed.

    Skids turned around... and felt his jaw drop open as he saw what appeared to be Starscream -- fused with four other Decepticons -- arrive onto the battle. In his right hand -- made from Dreadwind -- was a large purple space gun.

    "Now that was satisfying," cackled the Starscream gestalt. "I could hug you right now, Shockwave."

    "That would be the exact opposite of satisfying," replied the purple space gun. "Now, let us keep moving."

    With a grin as wide as his face, Starscream utilized Ruckus and Needlenose as legs as he charged towards Monstructor. Cyclonus and the others quickly ran for cover as the two combiners tackled into each other.

    "That's going on my list of bizarre scrap I've seen in my lifetime," Getaway muttered.

*  *  *

    "Should, eh, we be concerned that we haven't seen any Preds yet?"

    Primal Major glanced at Rattrap as he uncrossed his blades and severed an Overcharge's head off. Looking around, he saw that there was indeed a distinct lack of Predacons, either with or against them. One would have thought that they'd be among Thunderwing's forces....

    "I think we have bigger things to worry about," he grunted, catching sight of Razorclaw and Shokaract. The latter herald was in the process of absorbing a Decepticon's spark while Razorclaw began striding towards the Maximals.

    "Greetings, fellow beast!" the Fuzor addressed Primal. "You know, we need not be adversaries."

    Sheathing his blades, Primal began to walk up to the herald, earning shocked looks from his comrades. "Oh, yeah?"

    "Of course!" Razorclaw grinned. "While you may be born of Cybertron, Onyx Prime's oil still runs through you. Join us and you will be rewards with power beyond measure."

    "Sounds pretty good," Primal said, stopping a step away from the Fuzor.

    "So what do you say?"

    Primal responded by deploying a pair of shoulder cannons, which he unloaded upon the herald. Razorclaw cried out as he staggered back only to be cut short as Primal drove a blade into his chest. The Fuzor gaped at him for a moment before sneering.

    "I'm already dead," he growled.

    "Good," Primal replied, drawing his other blade. "So you won't mind if I do this."

    With one swift cut, Razorclaw's head went flying across the battlefield. At that moment, Shokaract directed his attention to the Maximals and began advancing towards them, his arms crackling with energy.

    "Foolish, doomed creatures! The long night of oblivion beckons for you--"

    His speech was cut short as Rhinox unleashed his chainguns. The pellets tore holes in the herald's armor as he howled in agony. Unable to strike back, Shokaract could only watch in horror as a large Dinobot suddenly charged in from behind the Maximals, his fanged maw open wide.

    Shokaract's reign of terror ended with a crunch and a satisfied belch from the bowels of Grimlock's intake systems.

*  *  *

    Elita's raged cry was the only warning she gave Guiltaur as she lunged at him, swinging the Star Saber in a downwards slash. Guiltaur raised his arm blade to block the attack, only for the ancient sword's blue blade to cut through it.

    Guiltaur staggered back in pain, clutching the fresh gash in his arm. He glared back at Elita, optics blazing in fury.

    "You," he snarled. "I know you."

    "Do you?" Elita asked, raising the Star Saber for another attack.

    "Yes. You were his weakness; the one thing keeping him from becoming what he was meant to be." Guiltaur cocked his arm cannon, aiming it at the magenta Autobot. "Fortunately, I have no such limitations."

    He fired the cannon, only for Elita to dodge the blast. She pressed ahead, positioning the blade to drive it straight into the fusion's chest. Guiltaur backed away, firing his cannon again and again, missing each and every time. His optics went wide as Elita finally caught up to him and drove the Star Saber straight into his chest.

    As he retracted his mouthplate, energon sputtering, Guiltaur looked his opponent in the optics. "Elita," he muttered, adjusting his voicebox to sound exactly like Optimus. "Why?"

    Elita shuttered her optics. "You're not him. Don't pretend to be."

    "I'm not. I'm better than him."

    "No. You'll never be better. Because you are missing the most important thing."

    Guiltaur sneered. "And what... pray tell...?"

    Elita opened her eyes as she met his for the last time. "A spark."

    Guiltaur opened his mouth but no words came out as he slid off the blade and fell to the ground. His optics stared at Elita for a fleeting moment before flickering off. She stood over Guiltaur, basked in the moonlight of Luna 2, as he shut down.

    Caught in a wave of emotions, Elita did not notice as Luna 2 began to slowly turned to face Cybertron....

Transformers Regenerated: Prime Wars XVII, Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

--Cybertron--

    It was all falling apart. Everything Starscream had dreamed of having was slipping through his fingers.

    Faceless drones swarmed the streets of Iacon. Sharkticons devoured buildings and people alike. Combiners marched through the masses, crushing anything that came underfoot. No amount of firepower from Onslaught or Strika or even Kup's bots did anything to deter them.

    It was Unicron all over again. Except this time, the burden was on his shoulders. If Cybertron fell, he would be the one to blame.

    "Enjoying the view?"

    Starscream squawked as he nearly fell through the window of his office. Spinning around, he saw a solitary purple figure standing there, a single unblinking optic staring back at him.

    "Shockwave?!" Starscream exclaimed. "What are you--? How are you--?"

    "I have come with reinforcements," Shockwave replied. "You can thank me later."

    Looking back out the window, Starscream saw that a portal had opened in the midst of the battlefield, allowing a mob of Autobots, Decepticons, and Maximals to pour out, turning the odds ever so slightly in his favor.

    Shockwave then grabbed him by the shoulder and forced him to turn around, boring his singular eye into the frightened Seeker's.

    "Now then, you are going to listen to me and do exactly as I say," the purple Decepticon said. "Otherwise, the entire Cybertronian race is going to pay."

    "Hey." Starscream held up his hands. "Sounds good to me."

*  *  *

    Drift was beginning to think this idea was not a good one.

    "Whoa! Slag, slow down!" he cried out but the Dinobot was not listening, charging into the battlefield at full speed as he unleashed a blast of fire. Drift clung onto the triceratops' horn with one hand and struggled to wield his sword with the other. Of course, he doubt he would be able to easily use it against anything given his awkward position.

    Much to his chagrin, the others did not appear to be having any struggles. Bumblebee had already become well-accommodated to the airborne Swoop, firing his stingers at oncoming fliers. Crosshairs was also working along well with Snarl, as was Ironhide with Sludge. Even Hound, mounted atop the tiny Slash, was making do, deploying hologram decoys to distract the Sharkticons.

    Only Grimlock rode without a rider, munching his way through Terrorbots and Vehicons while batting away Sharkticons with his tail. Drift could not help but wonder if, had he still been alive, Ultra Magnus would be teaming up with the Dinobot leader....

    He was broken from such thoughts as he caught sight of a large red ship flying in to join the battle. After a double take, he identified the craft to be Star Saber just as he spotted Swerve and Tailgate manning a set of gun attachments on the knight's sides.

    "Hey!" Swerve hollered out. "Is this a private party or can anyone join?"

    Drift grinned back at him. "You guys sure do know how to make an entrance."

    "Not the first time today I've heard that!"

    With that, Star Saber flew deeper into the battle with the minibots. After taking a minute to finally position himself properly, Drift let out a battle cry as he and his Dinobot steed charged after them.

*  *  *

    "Dammit, Misfire! Even with a gazillion drones to shoot at, you still can't hit anything!"

    "I am hitting things!" Misfire protested, rapidly firing his gun. "Look, I just -- I just hit those two guys over there!"

    "Yeah, after nicking Bikecross in the shoulder!" Crankcase grumbled to himself as he fired his shoulders cannons. "Honestly, I don't know why Krok even keeps you around."

    "My dashing good looks? Or perhaps it's my dry wit."

    "We all have dry wit, you dip."

    "Then it must be the first thing."

    "Out of my way, losers," Nitro Zeus said, pushing past the two Scavengers. "It's time for me to be awesome."

    He strode out onto the battlefield, shooting down a pair of Terrorbots, before setting his eye on a red and black figure that had made an appearance on the scene. The warrior bore a striking resemblance to a certain Autobot leader; even Crankcase had to perform a double take when he saw it.

    Unfazed by the resemblance, Nitro Zeus cracked his knuckles. "So! You look pretty tough. Think you have what it takes to mess with the best?"

    The warrior seemed to regard Nitro for a moment before starting to laugh. Nitro's single optic flashed in anger.

    "What's so funny? Ya got something to laugh about, you diode? I'll give you something to laugh about!"

    He let out a roar as he charged towards the warrior, guns ablaze. The mech barely flinched as he casually deployed a blade from his arm and swung it upwards. As Nitro Zeus' head went flying, Guiltaur pushed his body aside before diverting his gaze to the other Decepticons.

    Misfire nudged Crankcase forward. "He's all yours...."

*  *  *

    The Decepticon's severed head landed at Elita's feet, but she paid it no heed. Instead, her optics were fixated on Guiltaur as the fusion proceeded to attack the Fallen's army of Decepticons.

    It can't be, she thought, watching as the Optimus lookalike blew a purple and green Decepticon to pieces with his arm cannon while skewering a gold one with his sword. 

    "Optimus?" She started to step forward, only for Convoy to grab her by the shoulder.

    "Not Optimus," he said to her. "Maybe physically, in part. But I have seen Quintus create such experiments before. If your sparkmate isn't dead, then he most certainly isn't here on Cybertron."

    Elita frowned. "Still, I can't allow that... thing to desecrate his image."

    "I agree." Convoy then looked up to Nexus Prime, who had recently reassembled himself. "Say, you don't still happen to have that sword, do you?"

    Nexus glanced down at him. "You mean the Star Saber?"

    Convoy rolled his optics. "No, I mean the Chaos Edge. Of course I mean the Star Saber! Prima entrusted you with it, didn't he?"

    "Yes, but he also said it could only be wielded by those who are worthy of it. I cannot guarantee that--"

    Elita held out her hand. "Give it to me."

    Nexus looked at her in surprise. "But--"

    "If I'm not worthy, then I'll use something else. But neither of us will know unless we try."

    The combiner Prime was silent as he glanced at Convoy, who merely shrugged. Then, without a word, he produced a shimmering blue blade out of thin air, which floated over to Elita. She grabbed the Star Saber by the hilt... and lifted it up with immense ease.

    "Well then," Convoy smiled, "I suppose that settles it."

    After testing the sword's weight, Elita turned around and set her eyes on Guiltaur, who had a grimacing blue Triggercon at his mercy. Kicking on her back thrusters, she charged ahead into battle.

    This is for you, Optimus.

*  *  *

    "Look at them all. To think that they believe they have a chance at winning."

    Thunderwing chuckled to himself as he stood atop Iacon's highest tower, accompanied by his four heralds. Overlord -- now under his control via the Titan Master Doomshot -- had been left behind on Luna 2 to enact the final phase of the plan with Quintus once everything was in place. He only had one last thing to do.

    "Shokaract, Razorclaw," he said to two of his heralds. "Keep them occupied here on the surface. Rodimus and Nemesis shall accompany me to the core."

    Razorclaw growled. "Why take the Autobots? Surely I am far more worthy!"

    "You are not," Thunderwing said coolly. "Now do as your Prime commands."

    Razorclaw glowered but complied, flying down to the ground with Shokaract. Once they were gone, Thunderwing beckoned his remaining two heralds.

    "With me, my friends. It is time for the Ascension."

Transformers Regenerated: Prime Wars XVII, Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

--Luna 2--

    The figure walking towards him certainly looked like Optimus Prime. The blue helmet and red chest were dead giveaways. But the legs... those were not Prime's legs, with their black steel sheen. Combining that with the wings on their back and the fusion cannon attached to their right arm, as well as the mere manner in which they carried themselves... it all simply screamed Megatron.

    As Overlord pondered at this bizarre amalgamation, Thunderwing spread his arms in greeting to the fusion. "Welcome, Guiltaur. Quintus has certainly outdone herself this time."

    Guiltaur said nothing as he came to a halt before the two Decepticons. Steam hissed from his chest as it parted open. Reaching inside, the fusion produced a green spark, which he then presented to Thunderwing.

    "Ah, brilliant!" Thunderwing laughed as he took the spark. "Everything is proceeding smoothly."

    He began to turn away from Guiltaur only for Overlord to grab him by the shoulder, a sneer etched on his face.

    "Mind explaining to me what's going? Why did you even summon me here?"

    Thunderwing glared at him. "Unhand me and I will gladly do so rather than obliterate you."

    Grunting, Overlord did as told. Thunderwing then turned to face him, holding up the spark.

    "This is Optimus Prime."

    Overlord raised an optic ridge, glancing at Guiltaur. 

    Thunderwing chuckled as he shook his head. "Don't mind him. He's just another addition to my army." He then gestured to Luna 1, hanging in the sky. "You see that moon?"

    "Yes...?"

    "That is Megatron." Thunderwing motioned to the ground they stood on. "This shall be Optimus Prime."

    Overlord's face was a rictus of confusion. "What?"

    "Cybertron is Primus, yes?" Thunderwing did not wait for a response as he continued. "The moons are Cybertron's sons. Both Optimus Prime and Megatron have carried the Matrix, and thus Primus' spark. Therefore...."

    Overlord shook his head. This fool was spouting nonsense. "What are you even trying to achieve?" he spat.

    Thunderwing waved a dismissive hand, turning again to leave. "Forget it. A true god is never understood by his subjects."

    "A god?!" Overlord laughed in incredulity. "You? A harebrained scientist. Give me a break."

    Thunderwing said nothing as he continued to stride away. Undeterred, Overlord went on with his diatribe.

    "You haven't changed, Thunderwing! You are as insane as you've ever been. I should've never answered your call, especially after that incident five hundred years ago; in this same spot, even! And you still haven't told me why you need me!"

    "Oh, I don't need you," Thunderwing replied. "Just your body."

    Overlord opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, he saw his own green spark emerge from his mouth... and then nothing.

--The Lost Light--

    "No!" Cyclonus struggled against Toxitron's grip as the Wrecker held him in place, thrashing around. "We can't leave! Whirl is still down there!"

    "I don't like this anymore than you do," Elita muttered, watching as Convoy commandeered the Lost Light away from Luna 1 and towards Cybertron. "But, unfortunately, he has a point: Cybertron needs our help. Optimus -- and Whirl -- will have to wait."

    Cyclonus scowled. "Then just let me get him. The rest of you can go to Cybertron."

    "No one is leaving this ship," Convoy called back to him. "We're all in this together."

    Cyclonus roared in anger, but Toxitron held him back from lunging forward. Sighing, Elita glanced at the Wrecker.

    "Take him to the brig until we reach Cybertron."

    Toxitron nodded silently before leaving the bridge with a thrashing Cyclonus. Not long after they had left, Skids arrived with Vector Prime and five bots in tow, the latter all bearing a unifying red-and-blue color scheme.

    "Hey, uh, these guys want in on the fun as well," Skids said. "If, uh, it's all the same to you...."

    At this, Convoy turned around and nodded curtly to the newcomers. "Vector, Nexus. Glad to have you with us."

    "Magnus?" Vector asked. "Is that you?"

    "Indeed it is, old friend. I'll admit that my appearance's been slightly altered." Convoy tilted his head. "Where are the others?"

    "Megatronus is still with us," Vector said. "He's simply found a vessel of his own to command."

    "Oh," said Alpha Bravo. "So that explains the giant Warworld on my scanner."

    "And Onyx and Liege?" Convoy asked.

    "I imagine they're already headed there," Nexus Prime spoke through his primary component, the former Lost Lighter Cannonspring. "We do not know for certain, of course."

    Convoy nodded. "Either way, we can use all the help we can get."

    "Yes," Vector murmured. "I just hope no one uses that help against us...."

*  *  *

    "You better not make me regret this," Spacewarp grunted.

    "You will be compensated accordingly," the Fallen replied, standing at the helm of the Warworld along with a wary Esmeral and Krok. "Now, give me an estimate."

    "At least half a dozen Titans," reported Darkwing. "Two combiners... lots of what look like Overcharges and Vehicons... and Sharkticons. Tons of those guys."

    "Is that all?" The one called Nitro Zeus cracked his fist. "I can mop the deck with those guys in a spark-beat."

    "God, and I thought Spinister was dumb," muttered Crankcase.

    Ignoring the bantering Decepticons, the Fallen simply said, "Full speed to Cybertron. It's by time we finished this."

*  *  *

    The invasion had begun. Infinitus could tell by the sound of all hell breaking loose.

    He was able to take solace in the fact that, since Thunderwing's army had its attention focused elsewhere, this allowed him to carry on with his objective. Rushing through the deserted halls, he set his sights on the central chamber up ahead.

    He ignored the tired groan of his leg struts as he ran. Sacrificing his larger body had been an unfortunate but necessary price to pay; only in this smaller form could he access his powers as a Titan Master, something he knew he was going to need.

    Reaching the door to the chamber, Infinitus pried it open and squeezed himself in. There, in the center of the room, he found what -- or rather, who -- he was looking for.

    Cerebros. Or, more accurately, Fortress Maximus' head, though at this point there was little difference. Large, empty optics regarded Infinitus as the Titan Master stepped forward.

    "You should not be here," intoned the booming voice of Fortress Maximus.

    "Fort-- Cerebros, listen to me," Infinitus said. "You are being controlled -- by who exactly, I don't know. Whether it's Onyx or Quintus or Thunderwing... you have to fight it!"

    "My loyalty is without question. I refuse to break it."

    "Who do you owe your loyalty to? During the Prime Wars, you served under Nexus Prime, but he's not involved in this. So who could you possibly be answering to?"

    "Only our true masters. The Creators, our Makers, the five-faced gods."

    Infinitus frowned. "The Quintessons? They're behind all of this?"

    "It by his will, he who is made in thy image. Quintus Prime shall lead us all to peace and prosperity."

    Infinitus shook his head. "I don't believe this. We can't allow this to happen, Cerebros! You know this isn't right!"

    "If you question his will, then you must pay the price of insubordination."

    Before Infinitus could say anything, the Titan Master suddenly found himself in excruciating pain as a pair of red beams emitted from Fortress Maximus' eyes....

Transformers Regenerated: Prime Wars XVII, Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

--Earth--

    "Remind me to thank Fowler for not dismantling our old Earth base."

    "Sure thing," Arcee grunted, avoiding Grimlock's tail as the Dinobot clumsily stepped around the small base. "Right after I explain to him what the hell happened to our city."

    Wheeljack ignored Arcee's sarcasm as he continued to work on the old, worn-out GroundBridge. Jetfire watched him work, grimacing as the engineer accidentally knocked a piece off.

    "So... do you think you can get us to Cybertron with this?"

    Wheeljack rubbed his chin. "Well, if we can get a line to Starscream -- or whoever's in charge now -- we could link up our terminal with Cybertron's space bridge nexus and get there in no time."

    "But...?"

    "But this whole blasted thing is old and crap, so it'll probably be another two months before I can get it working again."

    "We don't have two months, Wheeljack," Arcee said. "Thunderwing's taken Metrotitan and is planning to do Primus knows what to Cybertron. Hell, he might already be done and we're just wasting our time!"

    "Don't say that, Arcee," Jetfire said. "We still have Sky Lynx. We can still get to Cybertron that way."

    "Yes, but Cybertron is how far away from Earth?" Arcee shook her head. "Thunderwing could be razing Iacon as we speak. Every minute we spend here is another minute our home loses."

    Wheeljack held up his hands. "Hey, I'm open to suggestions here. Whether you're Autobot or Decepticon -- or neither, I won't judge -- then just shoot. I'm all ears."

   "Excuse me."

    The three Autobots all turned to see a spindly Decepticon step up to them. Wheeljack tilted his head as he regarded the unfamiliar bot. "I'm sorry, you are...?"

    "Viral," the Decepticon said. "I was among Megatron's reinforcements."

    "Ah. Well, Viral, what have you got for us?"

    "A message, actually." Viral tapped the side of his helm. "I've picked up a transmission from a... familiar source."

    Jetfire glanced at the others before nodding to the Decepticon. "All right. Let's hear it."

    Viral complied and his screen-face lit up, displaying the image of a purple head with a single glowing optic on its otherwise featureless face.

    Arcee scowled while Wheeljack groaned, rubbing a hand down his faceplate.

    "Oh joy...."

    "Shockwave." Jetfire frowned at the image as he crossed his arms. "What do you want?"

    "I come to you with an offer, Autobots," Shockwave replied. "It has become clear to me that our race is under threat by an unstoppable force. If we have any hope of stopping this threat, then--"

   "Cut the flavored speech," Arcee snapped. "You've already tricked us once with your Secret Order. Why should we trust you now?"

    "The Secret Order admittedly did not pan out exactly as I had foreseen. I knew my accomplice, Delta Magnus -- or Powerdrive, rather -- was herald to a Prime. But I did not realize the extent or depth of her own machinations. Had I known, I would've never done any of this."

    "Like we'd believe that," Jetfire muttered. "But, all right, what exactly are you offering us? How would we benefit in teaming up with you?"

    "Firstly: Transportation," Shockwave said. "Soundwave here can generate a portal to anywhere in the cosmos, including Cybertron. I take it that you are having difficulties in that respect; otherwise, you would've already left Earth by now."

    Jetfire glanced at Wheeljack, who simply grunted with umbrage. "You could say that...."

    "Secondly: I have an innate knowledge of all of the Secret Order's resources, which I have no doubt Powerdrive and Thunderwing are using."

    "How do you know Thunderwing and Powerdrive are working together?" Arcee asked.

    "It is the only logical explanation for all of the events that have occurred in the past eight months."

    Jetfire shrugged. "I won't argue against that. Anything else?"

    "Lastly: We would all benefit immensely from an alliance by saving Cybertron." Shockwave tilted his head. "Is that satisfactory enough for you?"

    Jetfire was silent as he mulled over the proposal. Arcee and Wheeljack both looked to him, exchanging wary glances. After a moment, Jetfire lifted his optics to meet Shockwave's again.

    "Where do you want us to meet?"

--Luna 1--

    It had been a considerably long time since Powerdrive had last seen Cybertron. Ever since she had first donned the persona of Delta Magnus, she had been stationed at Garrus-13 for nearly a thousand years. She had been essentially cut off from the outside world, only learning of events through Hydra, Shockwave, or her subjects.

    But considering it was all going to be her's, she considered it to be worth the wait.

    After taking a minute to bask in what would be her glory, Delta Magnus rose from her seat at Luna 1's controls... and froze.

    Someone was behind her.

    She glanced to the side. Depth Charge and Rampage still laid dead on the floor, so it wasn't them. And the only entrance was so small that she needed her human guise to access it. So then who--

    She let out a cry as a portal opened beneath her feet and she fell through it, finding herself falling through the sky and landing on the ground below. The Void Scepter dropped out of her hands, only to be retrieved by a large black fist.

    As Delta Magnus scrambled to her feet, the Fallen aimed the tip of the spear at her face. "Oh, how I've been waiting for this moment," he said with a wicked grin.

    Delta Magnus glared at him. "My death will accomplish nothing. My master's plan is already underway. There's no stopping it!"

    "Oh, this has nothing to do with Quintus," the Fallen said. "This is just for me."

    He twisted the Scepter, and Delta Magnus screamed as her body began to contort, bending in impossible ways. Her entire frame collapsed into itself, shrinking up until all was left was a heap of metal made of arms and legs. Through a small crack, Powerdrive's green spark continued to pulse in eternal agony.

    As the Fallen admired his handiwork, Vector Prime appeared beside him, regarding the gruesome sight with disgust.

    "You haven't changed," the elder Prime muttered.

    "Ah, I disagree," the Fallen chuckled. "That was actually remarkably tame of me."

    Shaking his head, Vector directed his gaze to the sky, spotting the Lost Light in the distance. "So, shall we rejoin them?"

    "You're free to do so. However, I have already chosen my own means of transportation."

    Vector glanced at him. "But our alliance--"

    "Oh, we are still allies," the Fallen replied. "After all, we are still all headed for Cybertron. I simply fashion a more... adequate vessel."

    Vector sighed. "As you wish. I will see you there then."

    "Indeed." The Fallen tilted his head. "Of course, I can only speak for myself. Primus knows if Onyx or Liege Maximo are willing to comply as well."

    "You don't doubt Nexus?"

    "His time divided -- with most of his components being Autobots -- has made him soft. He won't turn against us."

    Vector frowned at him. "Like you once did?"

    The Fallen chuckled humorlessly. "Nice one, brother. Very clever."

    Rolling his optics, Vector Prime transformed and took off to rejoin the Lost Light. Left alone with what had once been Delta Magnus, the Fallen returned his gaze to the heap and smirked to himself.

    "Enjoy Chaos, my friend."

    With that, he converted to his tank mode and rolled away, leaving Powerdrive to suffer alone.