#mind rust plot

Rewind head perks up when he receives another message; however, this message piques his interest in that it is addressed specifically to him and not Dominus.

“Oh. Uh, I’m doing fine. Thank you.”

“I’m Dominus Ambus’s assistant…” Rewind replies, and though he is a little miffed at the answering machine jab, he squeezes in a quick “sir” just in case he overstepped his boundaries by correcting the bot.

When Blitzwing asked who Rewind was referring to, the cassette visibly baulked- Primus, was this mech living under a rock? Everyone has a least heard of Dominus Ambus. He pushed aside the question of “why the hell was this guy contacting someone he doesn’t know” in favor of enlightenment…

Rewind first instinct was to delete the message, but Dominus had told him to take messages while he was away and even though the message rubbed him the wrong way, this could be just another one of Dominus’s eccentric friends…

It was best to be as polite as he could, at least until he finds out what this mech wants…

“It’s very…” He paused trying to think of a term that the other wouldn’t find offensive, “Unique, sir. Thank you.”

It had been orns since Rewind had been able to have a peaceful recharge, nowadays his nights were restless and lonely; the bond with his carrier and brother had helped and at one time used to be enough to keep him grounded, but now it’s not even enough to lull him into a secure sleep and keep him there.

Tonight had been one of those rare night in which Rewind had been able to drift into recharge without trouble and he had even slept for a few good dreamless hours without stirring, but as the hours progressed a soft scuttling sound was caught by Rewind’s audial sensors and that was enough to rouse Rewind from his recharge.

Rewind sat up, rubbing the back of his neck as his optics adjusted to the dark and when he glanced down at the source of the noise he was met with a rude awakening.

The entire chamber was infested with Cyberpedes.

He staggered back against the wall, only to knock a few off the wall and onto his back. He gave a startled yelp, brushing the insects off and rushing over to a small clearing in the corner.

“Ratchet,” Rewind’s voice was barely above a whisper when he called for the medic, but as his panic grew so did his voice, “Ratchet, let me out! Ratchet!”

“RATCHET, CHROMEDOME!” He could feel them under his plating, shifting and crawling through his wiring, “EJECT, BLASTER! LET ME OUT! PLEASE! PLEASE, SOMEONE, HELP!”

He clawed at his armor and dug into his seams, ripping out wiring and cables, in his panic, frantically trying to rid himself of the unwanted guest. He was in such a state of panic, he didn’t realize the harm he was causing himself; he paid no mind to the energon that was pouring from his self-inflicted wounds, all he was concern with now  was escaping this nightmare.