Transformers Regenerated: Lost Light IV, Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

--The Peaceful Tyranny--

    Among both factions, the Decepticon Justice Division were the feared enforcers of Decepticon law. While some did not believe their hype (and indeed quite a bit of it was hyperbole spread by those who had seen them in action), it still could not be denied that they were five of the most effective soldiers the Decepticon Empire had to offer.

    And yet even they required frequent maintenance in order to keep that title. So when it came to finding the right 'Con for the job, Tarn went with the one he knew they'd all hate.

    "What is this? Is that... cranial fluid? Have you been chewing brain modules again?"

    Helex could only make unintelligible sounds as the small teal femme held his mouth open, inspecting his oral mechanics. Nickel scoffed loudly at the pieces of brain module she found inside.

    "Honestly, how many times must I tell you? Don't-- chew-- on-- brains! It's unhealthy for you! And to think that's the second time in as many months I had to state a sentence like that."

    Closing a disgruntled Helex's mouth, Nickel activated the rocket boosters on her back and flew over to Tesarus, landing in the brutish mech's chest cavity.

    "And when was the last time you sharpened your blades, hm? These things look duller than one of Shockwave's lectures."

    Tesarus simply grunted.

    With a tsk, Nickel jumped back down and rolled over to Kaon and Vos to inspect them. As all of this was happening, Tarn stood at the ship's controls, preparing for take off.

    Another name on the List had been eliminated, and yet Tarn could not help but find himself feeling... empty. While in the past he had always felt immense satisfaction from delivering justice, it had now become nothing more but another thing to do to him.

    This wasn't a recent development, of course. For the past six months, ever since his last encounter with Megatron, his enjoyment of his duty had been on decline. From their genesis, the D.J.D. had been fanatically loyal to Megatron and the Decepticon cause equally, for the former represented the latter in their eyes.

    Thus, when Megatron-- his idol, his source of worship-- had said to his face that he was renouncing the old ways, Tarn's world came crashing down. The events that proceeded afterwards-- Megatron's death and Starscream's ascension-- only made things worse.

    As of now, the List was their only master; they would continue to hunt down those who had betrayed the cause, disregarding whatever changes had been made since then. For as far as Tarn was concerned, Decepticon law was obstinate and anyone who thought otherwise could consider themselves a traitor. 

    As the Peaceful Tyranny entered the infinite starfield of space, Tarn turned back to the others, who were still being checked on by Nickel.

    "And what do you call this?" The diminutive medic poked one of the induction coils on Kaon's back, which sizzled at her touch. "You've been over-frying again, haven't you?"

    Kaon glared at Nickel with his empty black eyes but said nothing. Upon noticing Tarn, the crimson Decepticon pushed the medic aside and stood to attention.

    "I'm still searching for Deathsaurus' energy signature, sir. In the meantime, I've located the next name on the List. She's--"

    "Kaon... please." Tarn brushed past him as he headed for his quarters. "Humor me for once and save the surprise. Signal me when we get there, or if there's an urgent matter to attend to."

    Tarn felt the others' optics following him as he reached his chambers. Closing the door behind him, he stepped inside and looked up. 

    Even after six months, even after all that had happened, it was still there: his shrine to Megatron. The statue had since become neglected, covered in rust stains, and his copy of Megatron's manifesto had become covered in dust.

    The reason he had kept it all was because of the false hope that Megatron-- the Megatron he knew-- would return someday and pick up the Decepticon Empire from its ashes. But now... now it simply mocked him.

    Tarn picked up the datapad which contained his former idol's writing-- the scripture he had obeyed for years. He stared into his reflected visage for a long moment... before dropping the datapad to the floor and grinding it to dust with his foot. He then aimed his fusion cannon at the statue and unleashed all of his wrath.

--Hedonia--

    Eighteen... nineteen... twenty....

    Rewind winced inwardly as he reached the last coin. Glancing up at the tentacled being at the counter, he said, "Twenty-two Shanix, right?"

    The alien blinked its dozen eyes as it continued to regard Rewind skeptically.

    "Don't suppose I can get it for less? I mean, I had no idea there had been a price hike on these things, so I only saved up twenty Shanix for it...."

    The store owner slithered its tentacles, making bizarre sounds with them. Although he did not know the language, Rewind understood the message clear enough.

    "Right, okay. I guess... I guess I'll come back later."

    Leaving the item he had been planning to purchase, Rewind left the shop and stepped outside, where he found Chromedome waiting.

    "Empty-handed?" the mnemosurgeon asked.

    "Can you believe he charges double for a single data disc?" Rewind replied. "Seriously, most sellers only charge, like, fifteen Shanix at most, and even then just for the super-rare ones."

    "What were on the data discs?"

    "Non-Cybertronian films. A Kiss in the Folassian Forest, The Sounds of Eurythma, The Shi-Lai Reckoning, Aron's Travels... the famous stuff, mostly." 

    "Why the sudden interest in them?"

    "Just expanding my horizons. My head is already filled to the brim with Cybertronian history. Time for something new."

    "Right." Checking his chronometer, Chromedome then said, "We'd better get back to the ship. Brainstorm's trial is in an hour."

    "Any second thoughts yet on serving as his defense?"

    "I haven't got much of a choice. Other then Nautica, I'm the only friend he's got. Someone has to be there for him."

    The two walked on in silence, enjoying the peaceful night. Suddenly, Rewind stopped and he raised a hand to his visor, looking up ahead.

    "Say... what's that over there?"

    Chromedome followed the archivist's gaze towards an oblong object that had been seeming thrown carelessly into an alleyway. As they approached it, a faded Autobot symbol became distinguishable on its metal exterior.

    "Is that... what I think it is?" Chromedome asked.

    "I know one when I see one," Rewind said quietly. "It's a coffin."

    He tilted his head up to look at Chromedome. "You don't think...?"

    "It's a possibility," his partner said. "But to be on the safe side, we should wait until we're back on board to open it. Have Ratchet and the docs scan it for viruses and the like."

    "Right, right. You stay here; I'll go get Skids and the others."

    As the archivist ran off, Chromedome looked down at the coffin and traced a finger on its hull. That was when he noticed a piece of scripture carved into the exterior. Although he was not particularly well-versed in Old Cybertronian, he still knew enough to read what it said.

    He hungers.

Transformers Regenerated: Lost Light IV, Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

--The Lost Light, docked at Hedonia--

    Rodimus let out an exasperated sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. In his hand was a glass of engex (his fifth of the day) and with him at the meeting table were Ultra Magnus, Emirate Xaaron, Animus, and Trailbreaker-- the latter three making up the Ethics Committee that used to run Kimia Facility.

    "Okay, let's recap what's just happened, 'cos I know not everyone knows the facts. So, one day, Brainstorm walks into Swerve's bar, spikes the drinks to make everyone pass out, and then opens his briefcase. Turns out his briefcase is part of a time machine and he goes back in time to kill Megatron. More on that later.

    "Meanwhile, a tiny robot called WALL-E appears on our ship, so we go into the future, only to find that the future's been changed and the Functionists now rule Cybertron. From information gathered in this future, we at first theorize that Brainstorm's gone back in time to kill Sentinel Prime and make a time machine of our own to chase after him through the time stream.

    "Along the way, however, we discover that it's actually Megatron-- or Optronix, I should say-- that Brainstorm's after, and we finally come to a stand still at the very place of our favorite despot's construction. Despite our best efforts, Brainstorm succeeds in extinguishing Optronix's spark and... nothing happens.

    "'Cos guess what? During one of our time trips, WALL-E and his sparkmate stumbled across a newborn spark and had it with them the entire time. So by placing that spark in the sparkless body of Optronix, that basically made them Megatron's progenitors. I'll let that sink in for a moment."

    The lack of a response was enough for Rodimus and he continued on.

    "So with that part of his plan foiled, Brainstorm actually does go further back to take out Sentinel Prime and we find out there that Stormy is actually a Headmaster and he sends his little minion to blow up Sentinel. That's when WALL-E's sparkmate flew in and took him out and everything played out as it was supposed to: no Functionists, Megatron rises to power, etcetera, etcetera. We then find Brainstorm's original head in his lab before throwing him into the brig, and that's where we're at."

    "Well," Emirate Xaaron said after a prolonged silence. "That's certainly a lot to take in, and it makes for an interesting case to handle. Has Brainstorm said anything about his motives for doing all of this?"

    "He's hardly spoken at all," Ultra Magnus said. "The last time I tried to talk to him, he said he was only willing to talk to Chromedome or Nautica."

    "Why those two?" Animus asked.

    "Because they're the only ones he considers his friends."

    "In that case," Xaaron said, "we should send one of them in to get his side of the story and perhaps serve as his defense."

    "I'll call Nautica first," Ultra Magnus said. "From what I've seen, she's worked closely with Brainstorm and might understand him better than most."

    "Alrighty then," Rodimus said. "So with that settled, there's another matter I would like to address: Boltax."

    Xaaron raised an optic ridge. "The High Circuitmaster?"

    "We encountered him in the altered timeline, but has anyone actually met him in reality? I always thought he was a myth."

    "No, he was very much real. He served as one of Sentinel Prime's advisers during the First War and early on into the Golden Age. However, Sentinel ceased communication with him and no one has seen Boltax since."

     "Huh," Rodimus said. "Well, that's something. Did anyone else besides Sentinel know him?"

    "Boltax was a rather secluded being," Xaaron said. "Many would come to him in the quest for knowledge, but he would only grant it to those he saw worthy of it. Dai Atlas was one such Cybertronian, as well as Yoketron and Alpha Trion... oh, and Thunderclash, of course."

    Rodimus' expression suddenly became sour. "Thunderclash?"

    "Not that it should come as much of a surprise, considering he held the Matrix for both Sentinel and Optimus Prime, as well as rediscover Caminus--"

    "Right, okay, meeting dismissed." Rodimus got up from his seat and strode for the door. "If anyone needs me, I'll be in my quarters. Let me know when the trial starts."

    The door quickly hissed shut behind him, leaving a silent room in his wake.

    Revving quietly, Xaaron said, "Did I... touch a nerve circuit there?"

    Ultra Magnus sighed. "You have no idea."

*  *  *

    "Hey."

    Brainstorm lifted his gaze from the floor of his cell. Standing outside was Nautica, who pressed a control panel which retracted the energy bars. She then stepped into the cell and sat down next to him.

    "I came to talk with you," she said.

    "Have you?" Brainstorm bitterly replied. "I bet I know what's coming."

    "Why did you do it?" she asked. "Why did you put the entire universe at risk by trying to alter time?"

    "I was trying to save the universe. I was trying to fix all of the damage our war had done to other worlds, trying to prevent the fates they didn't deserve."

    "And what motivated you to do that?"

    Brainstorm paused before speaking. "Ten years into the war, I was assigned to Nebulos. During my stay there, I became acquainted with a Nebulan called Arcana, who shared my love for exotic inventions. One of our first experiments together was reinventing the Headmaster process.

    "Four years later, K'th Kinsere fell to the Decepticons...." Brainstorm trailed off for a moment before looking at Nautica. "Tell me, have you ever had a Conjunx Endura? Someone you cared for more than anything?"

    Nautica shook her head. "No. Why?"

    "I lost someone I cared for at K'th Kinsere. His name was Quark. Of course, he never returned my feelings-- probably wasn't even aware of them. But when I heard of his death, I was spurred to something about it and Arcana gave me the idea of time travel.

    "It was a long process, of course, lasting the entire war. But with each year that passed, each tragedy that occurred, I was only given more incentive to finish the project. When the war ended, I was actually hesitant to go through with it. But Arcana ultimately pushed me to do so."

    Brainstorm fell silent after saying his piece. Nautica stared at him, her blue optics searching his face.

    "So you started this all because you lost someone?"

    "Well, yeah--"

    "You put your own race at risk, all because you lost someone."

    "I know it may seem that way--"

    "Do you not see how selfish that was?!" she snapped at him. "We've all lost someone we cared about during the war! Windblade lost Yoketron, Blaster lost Scrounge, Livewire lost Strongarm, even Optimus Prime lost his brother! But did any of them lose a gasket and go out for revenge, even if it meant others had to suffer?"

    "No, but-- I was trying to fix things--"

    "You wouldn't have fixed anything!" Without thinking, Nautica struck Brainstorm across the face with her hand, which dislodged his mouthplate and sent it clattering to the floor. Realizing what she had just done, Nautica opened her mouth to apologize... until she glanced at the mouthplate on the floor.

    And saw what was painted on the interior.

    She looked back at Brainstorm and their optics met. Before the latter could even speak, Nautica got up in a huff and stormed out of the cell, letting the energy bars reappear behind her. Left alone again, Brainstorm picked up his faceplate and stared solemnly at the Decepticon emblem painted within....

Transformers Regenerated: Lost Light IV, Prologue

This story arc (or the first part, mainly) takes inspiration from MTMTE #39-40
EDITED 11/15/2015 Changed the story arc name; didn't think the original fit it

PROLOGUE

    When it came down to it, he was not much of a religious person.

    Knowing him, that may have come as a surprise to some. Considering how often he played the Empyrean Suite, which had been composed by Eucryphia in celebration of Prima and his Citadel of Light, one would have taken him for a believer. But that was far from the actual truth.

    In reality, he looked down upon those with such beliefs with vile disdain. In his mind, there was only one being who deserved worship; only one Cybertronian who held power over others. Any Decepticon who said otherwise was instantly put on the List.

    The List. Such a simple name for something that meant so much. His duty revolved around the List-- his life revolved around it. Without it, the Decepticons would most likely not have a justice system.

    To tell the truth-- and he would never admit this to anyone-- there really was no rhyme or reason to who was put on the List. While there were certainly some high-priority targets, the rest were mainly just "filler"-- either an excuse to weed out any potential dissenters (regardless how small that potential was) or simply a means to keep themselves occupied.

    Some would tell him it was counterproductive. He would tell them that it was following protocol. And if they were wise, that would be the end of the conversation.

    On some days, however, he wondered if there was a point in such arguments. After so many years of conflict and violence, he wondered if there was any purpose to it anymore. What had it accomplished for them after all this time?

    In spite of all these pressing doubts, he never let it show. Not to his comrades, and certainly not to his victims. Today, however, he came close to letting those doubts get to him.

    There they all were, standing around their most recent victim: Zardak, one of the five warlords that commanded the Decepticons following the First Great War, and the first one they had succeeded in tracking down and executing after they had failed to take out Trannis. The battered leader of the Maladroids sat on his knees before the five members of the Decepticon Justice Division, energon leaking from his optics.

    "Are you enjoying the music?" Tarn had asked him as the Empyrean Suite played on. Zardak made no response; it was, after all, difficult to speak when one had their brain module stuffed into their mouth.

    "Ah, Helex, would you mind putting his brain back in? I wish to have a little talk with him," Tarn said.

    The stoic brute did as ordered and inserted the brain module back into the cavity in Zardak's head. After sputtering out the cranial fluid in his mouth, the warlord looked up at Tarn with baleful optics.

    "Why... why are you doing this?"

    Tarn laughed as he wrapped an arm around Zardak's shoulders. "Oh, Zardak, even when faced with the peril of death, you still manage to maintain your sense of humor. But really now, a veteran such as you should know the drill by now."

    "But... I've done nothing wrong!"

    Tarn chuckled again. "Always the comedian. But since I respect your venerability, I'll humor you: it is not in the Decepticon Empire's best interests to establish a sub-faction with its own doctrine."

    "I had no other choice!" Zardak countered. "The Decepticons are in tatters; someone must take command!"

    "And therein lies the problem; you're spreading lies, petty falsehoods. And somehow, you've managed to find Decepticons gullible enough to believe you."

    "Because they're not lies! It's the truth! Megatron is dead, the empire is in ruins... we've all been left to fend for ourselves!"

    A cloud passed over Tarn's mind as he listened to these words-- specifically the ones he'd never thought he'd hear again from someone other than Starscream: Megatron is dead. He quickly pushed aside his thoughts and leaned in closely to Zardak.

    "You're lying," he said softly, disregarding his own doubts. "Megatron still functions. The Decepticons continue to thrive. And until I hear otherwise from our esteemed leader, that is how it will be."

    Zardak looked up at him with bleeding, searching eyes. Then, he did something which Tarn was not expecting: he reached up with his hand and touched the enforcer's mask.

    "Take it off."

    "What?" Tarn said, caught off-guard.

    "Your mask. Take it off. Let me see you. All you've ever done is hide, 'Tarn'-- your name, your face. But what is it that you're hiding from? What are you afraid of?"

    Tarn did not indulge him with a response. Instead, he turned his back on the warlord and gave his comrades the permission to gratify themselves with the warlord. As the screams and sound of shredding metal followed him, Tarn raised a hand to his mask.

    Contrary to what so many believed, he did not wear the mask to hide his identity, nor did he wear it to intimidate others or to honor the Decepticon ideology. He wore it for a reason lost upon everyone but himself.

    He wore it so that no one would notice when he closed his eyes.

LEFT TO THEIR OWN DEVICES

Part I: A List of Dos and Don'ts

Transformers Regenerated: Lost Light III, Chapter Nine & Epilogue

CHAPTER NINE

--Cybertron, Iacon, two thousand years ago--

    He was home free.

    The robot that had once been Brainstorm's head ran as fast as his small legs could carry him towards the dueling Sentinel Prime and Trannis. As he ran, he could hear the ticking of the bomb he had built into his chest, made so that the explosion would consume both leaders and thus set in stone the new future he had set out to create.

    Five minutes left. He was no more than ten feet away from the two fighters. In short time, he would be in range and--

    Before he knew it, he was suddenly being picked up and lifted towards the air, moving further and further away from the ground. Soon, Sentinel and his opponent would be nothing but dots on the landscape....

    After finally taking his eyes off the ground, the robot looked up to see that he was in the clutches of the probe bot he had seen with the Autobots. He struggled to release himself from her grip, but she simply tightened her hold.

    "What do you think you're doing?!" he cried. "The bomb's about to go off any minute now! It'll kill us both!"

    "I know," she said.

    "Why do you throw away your life so recklessly? Or do you have nothing left to lose?"

    "I do actually," she said, almost wistfully. "But I'll know I'll get it back soon enough, even after I die."

    "What are you babbling about? Who do you think you are?"

    "My name is EVE." She closed her eyes, at complete and utter peace with herself. "And I'm bringing back Eden."

    The timer reached zero. He had no time to scream when the bomb went off.

*  *  *

    WALL-E was still crying out EVE's name when Rodimus' team returned to the Lost Light, Brainstorm's headless body in tow. While it took Rung's gentle coaxing to quiet him, it did not stop his incessant shaking.

    He had just seen the love of his life explode. It may have not been the EVE he had always known, but she was nonetheless EVE through and through. Even if she were to miraculously turn up alive right here and now, it would still be difficult for him to cope with what he had just witnessed.

    As he stood there rattling, Rung still at his side, WALL-E watched as Rodimus walked up to Ultra Magnus and Perceptor. "Welp, we did it," the captain said. "We've stopped Brainstorm and--"

    "Where's his head?" Ultra Magnus asked, concern etched across his face as he stared at the headless body.

    "I'll get to that bit," Rodimus said. "Perceptor, any sign things have returned to normal?"

    The scientist smiled. "As a matter of fact, yes. Seconds before you returned, the timeline started moving again and Earth is back on our radar."

    Rodimus pumped his fist. "Awesome! Welcome back, status quo!"

    "Perhaps we should go down to Earth and ensure that things are indeed restored," Rung suggested.

    "Good point. Skids, you take WALL-E back down to Earth, and let us know if anything's changed. In the meantime, I'll need Ratchet to examine Brainstorm's body."

    As the others-- including Rung-- started to leave, Skids beckoned to WALL-E, already heading for the shuttle bay. "Come on, buddy, let's get you home."

    WALL-E started to follow Skids but was stopped by Chromedome, who got down to his knees to address the smaller robot.

    "It was nice knowing you, WALL-E," the brown Autobot said. "I know we never got to talk much, but you seem like a very nice bot."

    WALL-E shifted his treads modestly. Even if he still had his vocabulator, which had been damaged beyond repair earlier, he would still have no idea how to respond to such praise.

    "Without you and EVE's help, we probably wouldn't have been able to stop Brainstorm," Chromedome went on. "For that, we're in your debt." He held out a finger for WALL-E to shake. "Well done."

    Humbled, WALL-E shook the finger. He felt something tingle in the back of his head as he did-- almost as if he was suddenly forgetting something-- but pushed the thought aside as soon as Chromedome left, turning to follow Skids again.

*  *  *

    "He's still alive."

    "Seriously?" Rodimus looked flabbergasted as he watched Ratchet examine Brainstorm's body. "But... his head blew up. Sure, it was its own little 'bot, but wouldn't it have still have his brain module?"

    "I'm no expert on how Headmaster technology works, but my guess is that he could have had his brain module relocated. I'd have to perform a full examination to find out where though."

    "And if you do find it, what then?" Ultra Magnus asked. "We don't exactly have spare heads lying around, and there's no way we can communicate with him--"

    "Ah, I beg to differ."

    All three mechs moved with a start before staring in bewilderment at Brainstorm's body. It eventually dawned on Rodimus that the rogue Autobot was speaking via internal radio. 

    "Brainstorm?"

    "Know any other geniuses?"

    Ultra Magnus folded his arms. "Brainstorm, you do realize that you have a lot to answer for."

    "Oh, I understand that much. Believe me, I do," Brainstorm said as he slowly sat up. "But wouldn't you agree that it would be far less discomforting to speak with me if I had my head back?"

    "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but we don't seem to have any spare heads lying around on this ship," Rodimus said dryly.

    "Check my workshop. I should have one somewhere there."

    The other Autobots gawked at him for this statement.

    "Do you mean to tell me," Ultra Magnus said slowly, "that you've been keeping a spare head on this ship... all this time?"

    "You really don't know anything about Headmasters, do you?" Brainstorm said.

    An awkward silence followed this statement. Ratchet let out a huff to diffuse it. "Right then," the medic said. "I'll go fetch it and get it attached. You two stay and watch over him."

    Once Ratchet had left, Rodimus turned back to Brainstorm and crossed his arms as well. "I look forward to hearing your explanation. You do realize the entire universe was hanging in the balance."

    "I know."

    "And you understand the consequences that would have had?" Ultra Magnus asked.

    "Of course. It's the only reason I did it," Brainstorm said calmly. "Believe me, once you hear what I have to say... you will all wish you had let me pull the trigger."

*  *  *

    Skids smiled as he watched the happily-reunited WALL-E and EVE (the original one) embrace each other. From the latter's mild confusion at WALL-E's initial burst of enthusiasm upon seeing here, Skids figured that from everyone's perspective, WALL-E had only been gone for a second or two, and his absence was never noticed.

    But whatever befuddlement EVE had was completely sapped away by WALL-E's euphoria as she gleefully spun him around. Skids then chuckled at WALL-E's stunned reaction from a spark-kiss given to him.

    Seeing that everything was now back to normal, Skids turned to return to the shuttle... only for his foot to hit something on the ground. Thinking it was only a mere rock, he raised his foot to kick it away... until he looked down and saw what it actually was.

    A briefcase.

    A dozen questions running through his head, Skids regarded the object curiously before continuing his trek back to the ship.

EPILOGUE

--Iacon, Cycle 7814--

    The explosion was bright enough for all to see. It was enough to distract Sentinel Prime from his fight with Trannis, who was now at the mercy of his Primax Blade. As Sentinel looked back down at the Decepticon leader, Trannis sneered at him.

    "Is that all it takes? A fancy firework to distract you from finishing me?"

    Sentinel smirked. "Not much of a distraction if killing you was not my intent."

    Trannis' expression became a confused one. "What?"

    Putting his blade away, Sentinel offered his hand to his life-long arch-nemesis. "Care for a little talk? I'm sure we can find a more cordial end to this war."

--Tarn, Cycle 8114--

    "Take it easy, pal. Let your optics adjust for a moment."

    Blue optical sensors flickered for a moment before taking on a permanent glow. The red and black mech began to take in its surroundings: white walls, bright lights, a gray and blue mech, a red and black femme....

    His gaze landed on the latter. Right away, he felt some sort of connection to her; like he was supposed to know her.

    Smiling sweetly, she said, "Hello there. My name is Hydra. I shall be your caretaker. And you would be...?"

    "Optronix," he said quietly. "I am Optronix."

--Earth, the distant future--

    Blue optical sensors came to life. Voices rang in his audio receptors.

    "Ee-vah, look!"

    "I see!"

    Ee-vah. What kind of a name was that?

    "Auttto... Auttto-bbb--"

    "Autobot."

    Suddenly, he bolted up in a sitting position and the two robots who had come across him instantly backed away, one of them pointing an arm gun of sorts at him. He paid no heed to this as he tried to speak.

    "Eee... Eee-vvv--"

    The white robot with the gun responded to this, putting the weapon away while adopting a kinder look. "EVE?"

    He nodded. Apparently it had been a mispronunciation.  

    A small, cube-shaped robot poked his head out from behind EVE and regarded the strange 'bot curiously. "Waaalll-Eeee," he finally said.

    "WALL-E?" the Autobot repeated.

    WALL-E nodded eagerly before pointing to him. "Naaame?"

    He thought for a moment. When he had awoken, he could have sworn there had been a name floating in his mind. Dyon? Pion? No, it was... it was...

    "Dion," he said. "My name is Dion."

--Cybertron, an alternate future--

    "Have you relocated him to someplace more secure?" the tall, cloaked mech said as he strode down the corridor, the white and blue scientist walking briskly to catch up with him.

    "No, One-of-Twelve, sir, but we did remove his transformation cog upon making the discovery," Quark replied. "I know it's an act of blasphemy--"

    "But a permissible one, given what is at stake here," the Convener of the Functionist Council finished. "You should be commended, Quark, for solving a puzzle that has been frustrating us for so many centuries."

    Quark smiled, humbled. "Thank you, sir, but it is not I you should be thanking." As if on cue, another mech joined them, carrying a vacuum machine. "It was Sweep here who made the discovery. He was granted a moment of insight whilst cleaning the prisoner's cell. Since he is janitorial class, I was wondering if you could...."

    One-of-Twelve turned to Sweep and pressed two fingers to the janitor bot's forehead. "By the power bestowed upon me by the Functionist Council, I declare you alt mode exempt. You are hereby reclassified and shall be venerated accordingly. Now get back to work."

    While the janitor bot left, One-of-Twelve and Quark arrived at the cell and the former unlocked the door. Leaving the scientist behind, the Convener strode down the narrow bridge that separated the suspended mech from the rest of the world. Upon coming within a few feet of the skinny orange mech, One-of-Twelve greeted him with a mock bow.

    "All hail the Useless One. That is what they call you now, isn't it?"

    The prisoner said nothing, his expression blank.

    One-of-Twelve lifted his single optic at him. "Except that moniker is no longer fitting now, is it? We have figured out what you turn into...." With those words, he drew a gun from his cloak, pointing it at the prisoner's head. "And it is the very last thing we want."

    "Knowing what one turns into doesn't tell you what they are for," the hanging mech replied. "But thanks to you, I now know what my purpose is."

    A smile started to break out on his face, broadening with each word he spoke. "If you pull that trigger, it's the beginning of the end. So go on: shoot me. Blow my head to smithereens. Tear my spark out and crush it between your fingers. Then you can sit back and relax... while your empire crumbles beneath your feet."

    A tense silence descended upon the room. One-of-Twelve remained still and silent while the one known as Rung simply grinned at him.

    "What are you waiting for?" he said tauntingly. "Squeeze."

WHEN TIME RUNS OUT: CONCLUDED

Transformers Regenerated: Lost Light III, Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT

--Cybertron, Iacon, two thousand years ago--

    Thunderclash's audio receptors rang with the sounds of war. Jets and rockets soared overhead; missile flew in all directions; soldiers of either faction cried out as they were shot down or consumed by an explosive. Out of all the battles he had been in over the course of his career, this was undoubtedly one of the worse.

    Hunkered down in a trench with three other Autobots-- Magnum, Metalhawk, and Kup-- Thunderclash cringed as an enemy missile truck a nearby tower, which fell no more than ten feet from where they were positioned.

    "Ya' know, this reminds me of the time on Verus Centralus," Kup muttered. "The 502nd and I were fighting the hostile native militia--"

    "With all due respect, Kup, this is no time for story telling," Magnum interrupted the veteran. "Metalhawk's leaking badly; we should get him to safety--"

    "Enlighten me on how we're gonna do that, kid," Kup said sharply. "The 'Cons have got us cornered in this trench and if we so much as poke a finger out, blam! No more finger."

    "So what? We just sit here and wait to die?"

    "See any other alternative?"

    "Wait." Thunderclash held up a hand for silence. "Does anyone else notice something?"

    The others were quiet for a moment. It came to their quick realization that everything was quiet.

    "Has the battle stopped?" Magnum asked.

    Before Thunderclash could answer, he heard the clashing of blades in the distance. Taking the risk, he peeked from behind the trench and saw that Magnum had been both right and wrong. 

    The battle had indeed stopped: Autobots and Decepticons alike had come to a standstill, their attention directed towards the grounds where Nova Point stood, where two figure engaged in a duel that would determine the fate of Cybertron....

*  *  *

    "This is amazing," Rewind murmured, his camera light flashing as he looked down from the observatory bay of Nova Point. "Sentinel Prime and Trannis, fighting to the death, with the fate of Cybertron hanging in the balance!"

    "I would think you'd already have footage of something like this," Chromedome commented, standing next to him.

    "Oh, I do. But it's all grainy and taken from really far away. Here, we're getting up close and personal with the greatest battle in Cybertronian history!"

    "I'm surprised your enthusiasm has not been diminished by the fact that your renowned Prime was an evil tyrant all along," Cyclonus said dryly.

    "Yeah, well, it's still a great historical moment with great significance...."

    Standing off to the side, preparing like everyone else for Brainstorm's inevitable appearance at this spot (it was the best vantage point he would have to take out Sentinel), Skids said to Rodimus, "So, what exactly is the plan for stopping Brainstorm? Do we have any means for restraining him?"

    "Well, I told everyone to set their weapons to stun. Provided he hasn't invented some anti-stun bolt alloy to put over himself, that should do the job."

    "And if it doesn't?"

    Rodimus sighed. "I can tell you what Whirl has suggested as an alternative."

    Suddenly, everyone fell silent at the sound of footsteps. All optics were on the door until Rodimus signaled them to move into position. Cyclonus and Whirl jumped up to hide in the ceiling rafters; Rodimus, Skids, and Chromedome concealed themselves in the shadows; and Rung, Rewind, Tailgate, WALL-E, and EVE found cover behind an inconspicuous table.

    Everyone waited in silence as the footsteps came closer and closer. Then, the door opened.

*  *  *

    Blaster rifle in hand, Brainstorm stepped into the abandoned observation bay of Nova Point. Making sure to lock the door behind him, he moved swiftly for the window on the other side of the room and broke the glass with his elbow. If either of the two dueling leaders below noticed the shards of glass falling from above, they were too engrossed in their battle to pay it any further heed.

    After connecting the sniper rifle attachment and scope he had made for his gun, Brainstorm steadied the weapon on the window sill and took aim with it. As he waited for Sentinel Prime to come into range, he rested a finger on the trigger....

    "Yippee-ki-yay!"

    Startled by the battle cry, Brainstorm lost his concentration and dropped his gun to the floor. Before he could retrieve it, Whirl descended from the ceiling and delivered a punch to his face. The force of the blow was nearly enough to send Brainstorm falling over the sill, but he was able to grab onto it to prevent that. He then lifted his leg up and delivered a hard kick into Whirl's chest, sending the ex-Wrecker staggering back.

    Once he had regained his composure and recovered his gun, Brainstorm looked to see no longer just Whirl, but also Rodimus, Cyclonus, Skids, and Chromedome all standing before him, guns aimed.

    "End of the line," Rodimus said. "Officially."

    Brainstorm said nothing as he glared at Rodimus, weighing his options. Unlike with Optronix, it would be more difficult to shoot Sentinel now as the Autobot leader was constantly moving in his fight with Trannis. Luckily, he had one extra card to play....

    He let the gun clatter to the floor and raised his hands. "All right. You win. I surrender."

    Rodimus blinked, obviously having not expected such a response. "Really? Just like that?"

    "Yes. You have me cornered and my plot's been foiled. You win," Brainstorm repeated.

    "I don't buy it," Whirl said. "I say we shoot him now and be done with it."

    "No," Rodimus said sternly. "I hate to sound like Ultra Magnus, but it's a code violation to shoot an unarmed combatant, especially one that's just surrendered."

    "Since when have I ever meshed well with the rules? Besides, I thought I was the risk taker-- and yet here you are, taking the biggest risk of all by falling for this obvious ploy of his."

    "What ploy? He's unarmed, there's no room for him to change form... what could he possibly do?"

    "This is Brainstorm we're dealing with here. He's a frikkin' genius! He's built a time machine, for crying out loud! Who says he doesn't have twenty cards stuffed in his cockpit?"

    "Even so, we're not shooting him--"

    "Tough. Because I am."

    Whirl pulled the trigger and Brainstorm's head went flying off.

*  *  *

    "Slag, Whirl! What the Pit's wrong with you?!"

    For once, Whirl looked genuinely uneased by his own actions. "I... I didn't think it would-- I wasn't trying to kill him! I had my guns on low level, like you said!"

    "I said to put them on stun," Rodimus scolded.

    "My guns don't have a stun setting."

    Rodimus sighed as he ran a hand over his face, looking at the broken window which Brainstorm's head had just fallen through. "Great. Just great. Not a week into the quest and I've already lost a crewmember-- an evil one, granted, but--"

    "Um, guys?" Chromedome was looking through the broken window with a befuddled look. "I'm not quite sure how to put this, but... Brainstorm's head is running away."

    "What?!"

    "Brainstorm's head-- it transformed into this little robot and it's running straight for Sentinel and Trannis."

    "You mean like a Headmaster?!" Rewind exclaimed. "By Primus, I thought they had all gone--"

    "Let's move it, people!" Rodimus snapped. "Cyclonus, Whirl, you fly after them and--"

    "But Sentinel and Trannis will see them," Skids protested. "And no amount of mnemosurgery would repair the damage that would cause."

    "Gee, if only we had someone small and inconspicuous who could chase after him. That would be great."

    Everyone turned to look at EVE, who had emerged from behind the table, a sly look in her optics. After an awkward silence, Rodimus gestured wildly with his hands at the window.

    "Well? Don't just hover there! After him!"

    Nodding curtly, and with one last look to WALL-E, EVE shot for the window and headed towards the ground below.

Transformers Regenerated: Lost Light III, Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

--The Lost Light, Perceptor's lab--

    "Don't look outside."

    "There aren't any windows in here, Perceptor," Ultra Magnus reminded the scientist. "What would I see if I did, though?"

    "You would see that the universe has stopped moving," Perceptor replied, staring intently at his monitor. "This ship is currently the only temporally active event. If we don't act quick, then the new future may start overwriting everything."

    "I thought that was the motivation from the get-go. Why do you sound so worried?"

    Perceptor sighed. "Because the hyper-drive only has enough juice for one more time jump. If they haven't stopped Brainstorm yet... then they may be literally stuck in the past."

--Cybertron, Tarn, 1,700 Years Ago--

    "Um, hey, guys," Tailgate said as he, Rewind, Rung, WALL-E, and EVE cautiously entered the Con Facility. "We heard fighting and then nothing, so we thought maybe you'd--"

    "Stopped Brainstorm?" Rodimus snapped, sitting dejectedly in a corner. "Try again."

    The small Autobot looked and saw the cause for Rodimus' bad mood. Standing there was the half-built form of Optronix, missing his spark.

    "Oh," Tailgate said quietly. "Wow."

    "Yeah," Rodimus snorted. "No kidding."

    "Um, sorry, but... what just happened?" WALL-E asked. "Did we not stop this Brainstorm person? What's the deal with that robot over there?"

    "That robot over there is the future leader of the Decepticons, who, believe it or not, we've been trying to save. And Brainstorm just killed him, which means we've failed."

    "Is there no way to fix him?"

    "His spark's been extinguished, WALL-E," Skids said. "You can't fix something like that."

    "Are you sure?" EVE asked as she opened her chamber, revealing the green spark WALL-E had given her. "Maybe this could help."

    Everyone with mouths dropped theirs in astonishment as they gawked at the glowing emerald orb. "Where the slag did you get that?" Rodimus asked incredulously.  

    "I found it when we were in that field," WALL-E said, taking the spark from EVE. "I was planning to keep it as a souvenir, but if it'll help that robot--"

    "Okay, I'll ignore the disturbing prospect of you keeping internal organs as souvenirs and just say 'Please, for the love of Primus, get that spark into Optronix's chamber before we all get erased from the timeline.'"

    "Don't worry, I've got it." 

    At his beckoning, EVE picked WALL-E up and flew him over to Optronix's lifeless form. The waste allocator bot then gently inserted the orb into the empty chamber. This resulted in a brief but small pulse of EMP energy, which struck WALL-E square in the face and knocked him from EVE's hands. Nobody was able to move in time to catch him and he hit the floor with a loud crash.

    EVE was instantly at his side, cradling his broken form. "WALL-E? Are you all right? Speak to me!"

    A moan was her response. At least he was still alive, albeit damaged.

    "We should get him to a medical facility," Rodimus said. "Are there any here in Tarn, Rewind?"

    "Wait, this is a con facility, right?" Skids asked. "If they can build bots here, surely they can fix them as well."

    "It's probably our best shot. Rung, once we get outside, you take WALL-E back into the facility and get him fixed. Then it's back after Brainstorm."

    "Only one problem," Perceptor's voice crackled through Rodimus' Time Phone. "The time machine is nearly dry of energy-- hardly enough to chase after Brainstorm thousands of years into the past, where he's no doubt heading now."

    Rodimus sighed. "So what do we do then? Are we stuck?"

    "Not necessarily. If I'm not mistaken, it's around this time that Unitrex has started developing an experimental quantum generator. There's just enough energy to transport you there and you can use the generator to recharge the briefcase."

    "Then what are we waiting for?" Rodimus said as he hopped to his feet. "Let's get a move on."

*  *  *

    "Sorry, madam, there seems to be a delay in construction," Rolt said to Hydra. "Some sort of power failure or something...."

    "No worries," Hydra said. "These things happen."

    "Yeah, but they've never shut down like this before..."

    Before Rolt could ponder on the situation further, a skinny orange mech came running into the facility, carrying a small, injured robot in his arms.

    "Please! You have to help him! His power core's drained and his motor relay is fried and--"

    "Okay, okay, calm down," Rolt said. "Is this bot disposable class or something?"

    "Yes, but he's incredibly loyal and hard-working, and irreplaceable for me. Can you please fix him?"

    "Well, we're having some technical difficulties right now, plus we're short on staff...." Rolt saw the sad look in the mech's spectacle-covered optics and sighed. "All right, I'll have him taken to Ward C. Just leave him here with me and wait here in the waiting room. I'll make sure he gets all of the attention he needs."

    "Thank you so much," the mech said, on the verge of breaking down. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

    "Yeah, well, that's what I'm here for," Rolt said, glancing at Hydra. "To make people's lives better."

*  *  *

    "Well, here we are."

    Cyclonus looked around the dark chamber he and Rodimus had been teleported to. He then looked at the other mech with a raised optic ridge. "Are you sure? Seems rather empty for a place to house an experimental quantum generator. Surely there should be a guard or--"

    Rodimus cut him off with the raise of a hand. "Cyclonus, take it from me; when life gives you a piece of good luck, you take it without question."

    "Oh, but if I were you, I'd definitely question it."

    The two of them turned around to see a teal-colored mech standing before him, carrying three turbofoxes on chains.

    "Sorry I'm late," the guard said with a twisted smirk. "I had to feed the turbofoxes, but don't worry: I made sure they left some room for dessert."

    Cyclonus scowled as he raised his gun. "Go," he urged Rodimus. "I'll hold them off."

    "Okay, but if anyone asks, I protested." 

    While Rodimus converted to his alt mode and drove off, Cyclonus turned his attention to the guard and his pets. Releasing the turbofoxes from their chains, the feral animals charged at him. Raising his gun, Cyclonus easily shot down the foremost one while the other two divided and prepared to flank him on either side. The one to his left made its move first, leaping at him and knocking his gun out of his hand. As he wrestled with it, the other went for his leg, biting down deep into his armor plating.

    Luckily, they had neglected the fact that he turned into a jet.

    Lifting up the leg that was being attacked, he tilted his ankle so that his foot was aimed at the turbofox and activated the thrusters built into them. The canine creature yelped as it broke off, prancing around while it burnt to a crisp. Cyclonus then wrestled off the other turbofox and threw it to the floor before crushing its head with his foot.

    All that remained was the guard. Seeing that Cyclonus was unarmed, the mech grinned with glee as he leveled his gun at the ex-Herald. Thinking fast, Cyclonus dove for his own gun just as the guard fired before raising it at the teal mech and shooting him square in the chest. Disoriented, the guard had no time to react when Cyclonus charged towards him and shoved him into a nearby storage closet, shutting the door and locking it. 

    Had he stayed for a moment longer instead of running off to find Rodimus, he would have heard a oil-curdling noise quietly emitting from the room....

*  *  *

    "Are you going to be okay?"

    EVE lifted her gaze up at Skids, who stood next to her while the two of them and the others waited outside the con facility for Rung and WALL-E. Looking away, she let out a sad sigh.

    "I'm worried about him...."

    "So am I," Skids said. "We all are-- well, except for Whirl, maybe. But believe me, he's survived worse than this. I've seen it for myself."

    Silence fell over the group of six. It was broken when Tailgate said, "So where have they gone again? Unitron? Unitrex?"

    "Don't tell me you've never heard of Unitrex," Rewind said. "It's the City of the Stars! The birthplace of interstellar travel! Here, I've got a recording of it."

    Turning on his headlight, the archivist brought up a projection of the facility Rodimus and Cyclonus had gone to. Sprouting from the roof, Rewind noticed, was a set of red fuel quills.

    "Huh," Chromedome said, holding his chin in his hand. "Those look awfully familiar. Doesn't the Lost Light's fuel quills look something like that?"

    "Yeah, they do," Rewind murmured, bemused by the resemblance himself. "Probably just a coincidence...."

*  *  *

    By the time Cyclonus regrouped with Rodimus, the latter was already removing the briefcase from the generator, visibly satisfied with himself.

    "Did it work?" Cyclonus asked.

    "Heck yeah," Rodimus replied. "Now let's get back to the others and--"

    Before he could finish his sentence, the entire chamber disappeared around them, leaving them on a launch pad underneath the night-time sky. It took Rodimus a few seconds to process this, after which he raised his time phone in a calm and collected manner.

    "Perceptor, the room's just disappeared."

    "Hmm, interesting. It appears the time case has contaminated the generator and shunted the entire complex into the future. Congratulations; you've just invented quantum jumping."

    "Um, thanks, I guess." Rodimus released a sigh as he activated the control case. "As if this day could get any more bizarre...."

Transformers Regenerated: Lost Light III, Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

--Cybertron, Nyon, 1,610 years ago--

    "I'm still trying to figure this all out," Rodimus said as he and the team gathered in an abandoned alleyway. "If Brainstorm's going back through time to kill Sentinel Prime, then why would he bother trying to kill Optronix? If it's too prevent Megatron from ever happening, then that's already taken care of with Sentinel's death."

    "Maybe we've been wrong all along," Rung said. "Perhaps Optronix was Brainstorm's target from the beginning and he's been trying to murder him at different times. That may be why he killed Breakthrough: he was gunning for Optronix, but missed."

    "But from what Boltax told us, the differences between the two timelines started two thousand years ago with Sentinel's death at the Battle of Iacon. How does Optronix lead to that point?"

    "Maybe that's just it," Skids said. "We're inadvertently leading him to that point by preventing all of his attempts to kill Optronix."

    Rodimus stared at him, nonplussed. "Say again?"

    "Think about it; Brainstorm went into the past without covering his tracks, leading us to find and use his time machine to follow him and stop him from killing Optronix, thus eventually leading to the Battle of Iacon where everything all started. The alternate timeline is thus not a result of any changes Brainstorm is trying to make, but our interference with them."

    Rodimus found a slab of metal to sit on and clutched his head. "Okay, everyone shut up for a few minutes. I'm getting a major processor-ache."

    "So, what, it's predestined for Brainstorm to kill Sentinel?" Chromedome asked Skids.

    "Not necessarily. My thinking is that the new timeline had just started 'bedding in' from the moment Brainstorm opened his briefcase, with the circumstances for it already in place."

    "Still not making any sense, but whatever." Rodimus sighed as he brought out his Time Phone. "Perceptor, have you found Brainstorm yet?"

    "As a matter of fact, yes. He's gone back ninety years from your current position."

    "To when, specifically?"

    "Cycle 8114."

    Overhearing this, Rewind's visor went wide. "Cycle 8114? Oh, no...."

    "Mean something to you?" Rodimus asked.

    "It means something to all of us. It's the day Megatron was born."

--Cybertron, Tarn, 1,700 years ago--

    "Identification?"

    "Hydra of Vos."

    Rolt raised his gaze to the red and black femme standing before his desk. "Ah, yes. You offered your spark for splicing a year ago."

    "Yes, and I wish to adopt the newborn spark as my ward."

    "Really? That's a first; most donors couldn't care less about the 'bots that are made from their offered sparks." Rolt pressed a few switches on his control panel. "I'll inform the doctors to begin infusing the spark. The process may take a few hours."

    "That's all right. I can wait."

    While Hydra went to find a seat across from Rolt's desk, the receptionist mech finished his call to the doctors. He then glanced again at the femme.

    "You have a sparkmate?"

    "No. And before you ask, I'm not interested."

    "No, no, I was just wondering. Most soon-to-be caretakers come in pairs, usually so that the adoptee has at least one guardian looking over him or her at all times in case something happens to the other or if they become overloaded with work."

    "I'm intellectual class," Hydra replied. "My job doesn't demand too much of my attention."

    "Ah, I see. Are you looking forwards to becoming a caretaker?"

    She beamed. "Very much so."

*  *  *

    "Careful... careful...."

    "I'm being as careful as I can, Scope," the doctor snapped at his partner as he gently removed the blue spark from its container and began to slowly moved towards the awaiting body. "This would go a lot faster if you'd just keep quiet."

    "Do you remember what happened last orbital cycle, when the new guy-- I think it was Suture-- dropped that one spark? The mech that was born from it turned out to be a murderous psychopath."

    "I'm reluctant to believe that his personality was a result of Suture's mishandling."

    "Well, Froid says--"

    "Oh, here we go again with Froid. You know that guy's a fraud; everything that comes out of that 'bot's mouth is--"

    "Careful!" Scope gently moved his partner to prevent him from walking into a table. "See? Without me, you could be responsible for the next Trannis."

    "Give me a break."

    The two medics finally reached the pre-fabricated protoform body. As the spark handler inserted the glowing orb, Scope kept an eye on the scanners hooked up to the protoform, reading the results as they came in.

    "Ferrum-positive... high-yield, strong pulse... looking healthy." He turned to his partner with a grin. "Congratulations, Flatline; it's a mech."

    "Shut up and get the outer shell ready."

    Scope sighed as he flipped a series of switches, causing mechanical arms to come down and begin building around the protoform. "Where's your sense of humor?"

    "You have one?"

    Scope merely shook his head as he left the lab with Flatline, leaving the machines to do their work. Had they stayed a moment longer before closing the door, they would have seen a figure materializing before the newborn mech....

*  *  *

    "This is the place?"

    "Yup," Rewind said. "Tarnian Con Facility 113."

    "And we're standing on the rooftop and not at the front door because...?" Skids asked.

    "Because there's no way we can get into the labs through there; too many guards and receptionists." Rodimus bent down and began to pull at a steel grate built into the roof. When it didn't budge, Whirl came forwards and tore it off with all his might, sending it flying across the city.

    "Thanks," Rodimus muttered. "Okay, Rung, Tailgate, WALL-E, and EVE-- you stay out here and keep an optic out for any trouble. The rest of us will handle Brainstorm."

    "Good luck," Tailgate said. "Let us know if any of this Optronix and Sentinel Prime stuff gets cleared up."

    "I'm not holding my breath," Rodimus said as he jumped through the newly-made opening, with Skids, Whirl, Chromedome, and Cyclonus following him. Once they were all gone, Tailgate looked at Rung inquiringly.

    "What's breath?"

    Rung shook his head. "Probably another Earthism. He says them a lot." 

*  *  *

    The security cameras had been disabled, as were the alarms. The machines had been shut down, their work unfinished. The relative information had been removed from the records. Everything was in place. Now it was time to finish the job.

    His gaze fixed on the glowing blue spark of Optronix, Brainstorm drew his gun and took aim....

    "Not so fast, Stormy."

    The rogue Autobot froze, his finger resting on the trigger. He then turned his head to see Rodimus, Skids, Chromedome, Whirl, and Cyclonus standing before him, guns raised.

    "End of the line," Rodimus said with his trademark grin.

    "Is it?" Brainstorm replied. "All I need to do is apply a bit more pressure to the trigger, then boom. I win. So please, enlighten me: how exactly do you intend to stop me?"

    "Having you gloat like a cliche villain seems to be working," Skids said wryly.

    "Ha! As if a genius such as I would fall for the oldest trick in the--"

    Before he could finish, Skids lunged forwards and swept his legs under Brainstorm's feet, tripping the rogue Autobot. He quickly recovered and caught Skids' fist as it came at his faceplate before delivering a kick to the theoreticians midsection and sending him down to the floor.

    Before any of the others could make a move, Brainstorm retrieved his gun and aimed it again at Optronix's spark. As his finger squeezed the trigger, he turned to give his former crewmates one last look.

    "In the end, you'll thank me for this."

    The gun went off and the universe went with it.