#original continuity

"You wanted to see me?" D-16 asked as he stepped into the room. The screens and blinking lights of his master's chambers filled each corner with darkness, which obscured detail and made monsters of shadows. There was a long pause of silence; the tendrils of D-16's master went still, and D-16 sighed as he realized why. "…You wanted to see me, Master?"

The Quintesson turned to look at him, eyes narrowed. "Come here." It said, a tendril curled to point at the spot beside its wriggling mass of a form. D-16 moved before he could think, stood tall and at attention beside his master like the loyal dog he was. "I have something I want to discuss with you."

The quintesson's tendrils slithered over the keys of the computer, sharp digits tapped too fast for D-16 to track, until the computer's screen lit up with a pre-recorded video.

D-16 himself in the fighting pit, the head of his greatest gladiatorial rival in his servo, a scream bellowed from his throat into the sky as quintessons and cybertronians alike in the stands cheered for him.

"You have been far more successful in the pits than any slave I've owned before." D-16's master began, as a few more key clicks pulled more clips of D-16's triumphs. "You're superior to most, and I want more like you."

D-16's brow furrowed. "Sir?" His voice wavered as his optics turned to his master, who was now staring far too intently at him.

The quintesson's tendril raised, but stopped just shy of D-16's faceplate. "You have superior genes, son." His voice hissed despite the sickly sweet tone he used. "I want more of you, and you are going to help me achieve that."

"Y-you aren't suggesting cloning…" D-16 whispered as he took a step back.

"No," the quintesson rolled his eyes. "Of course not; clones are always sickly, weak, and useless things." Its voice hissed like spilt acid at the thought. "No, you're going to make another, with this."

D-16's master held out a tendril, the claw clutched a piece of metal that D-16 recognized. "A reproduction chip?" Then it clicked for him. "Sir, y-you can't-"

"I spent far too many credits on the chip of another powerful bot for you to say 'no'." His master shoved the chip into D-16's servos.

D-16 stared down at the chip in silence - a small piece of metal, waiting to be joined with another reproductive chip and incubated inside a spark chamber.

A small growl escaped the quintesson's throat, but a smile replaced its deep scowl. "How about this?" As the quintesson circled behind D-16 with curled and slithering tendrils, it leaned in and whispered, "I won't send you to the pit until the sparkling is grown, if you do this."

D-16's expression shifted, and his optics darted from the chip to the floor. "…Really?" No answer came, but would it matter if it had?

After a few moments, D-16's chassis clicked open wide for him to reach in. D-16 didn't need a guide or a glance, as his instincts already knew where to find it; a chunk of metal like a puzzle piece, which unlatched far too easily with a simple tug.

As D-16 pulled it out, his optics softened a little; two pieces, like a plug and a socket. Was it right to bring a sparkling into quintesson slavery?

"What are you waiting for?" His master whispered into his audio receptors. "Do you want to be sent into the pit tomorrow?"

D-16 let out a huff, gritted his denta, and after a moment of hesitation, pushed his servos together, plugged the two reproductive chips, and locked them together with a twist that let out a click like a cocking gun to his head. D-16 reached back into his chassis and set the active chip inside, and his chassis swung shut with the finality of a morgue door.

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D-16 forced himself forward, his legs thundered with each step as he searched for an empty room. He could feel the little thing squirm in his chassis, ready to come out as it already scratched at his interior. Its little claws were more painful than D-16 thought they'd be, but he couldn't let that deter him from his task; if he had to deal with this, he wanted to do it somewhere safe.

Cameras were everywhere, sharkticons waddled down the halls, but after an hour of searching, D-16 finally found it. A storage room with nothing of note inside; no prying eyes, no guards, no master.

D-16 snuck inside as quietly as possible, his jaw clenched as he felt a sharp digit scrape against the metal dangerously close to his spark. He had to bite back the urge to yelp at the sensation as he sealed the door shut behind him, and nearly collapsed against a giant metal container full of energon. "Stop squirming!" D-16 barked, half-tempted to rip open his chassis and yank it out.

He took a deep breath, then let his chassis unlatch and open. The newly formed, thick membrane of sticky blue energon greeted him, already partially torn by the sparkling's incessant clawing.

The moment fresh air filled his chassis, a squeak escaped his interior, and the little beast's scratching and squirming grew more erratic. D-16 had to grab his own throat and squeeze just to keep from screaming out in pain as the claws ripped through the membrane and wire that had grown over his chassis interior. Wire and membrane ripped away and devoured by the little parasite that D-16 wanted to throw across the room for putting him in such pain. Energon dripped and spilled across his body and onto the floor; D-16 almost felt like he'd bleed out, and it just wouldn't end fast enough.

Then it stopped.

D-16's breathing came ragged and labored as he felt the pain ebb and gradually subside. Burning hatred rumbled in his spark for the parasite that inflicted such pain on him. His helm snapped upward, ready to squeeze the life out of the little insect, but when his optics finally settled on it, he froze.

Round, small, made of soft living rubber and barely any hard metal. The little creature was so tiny and helpless; how could it possibly be responsible for all the pain he felt? As D-16's chassis shut, he barely felt the membrane and wire caught in the door, focused on the tiny piece of him that stared back.

His servos were already around it before he could think twice, and he held the beastie against his warm, rumbling chassis. The sparkling's mouth opened with a tiny yawn as it rubbed its head with a claw and curled against him.

D-16 stared, mouth agape as words failed to come. Its wide optics so perfectly mirrored D-16's, down to their rose-red color.

"I thought you'd be uglier." D-16 muttered with a chuckle, and his sparkling only blinked in reply. "But… I guess you are mine."

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D-16 threw himself forward with a loud roar, the blade in one arm extended but barely missed the Quintesson. "Let him go!" The proud warrior bellowed as he dodged his master's initial strike. His instincts boiled the energon in his veins as his sparkling's squeals of fear filled him with white-hot rage.

"How long have you kept this from me?!" The quintesson's tendrils surged, one sliced in two by D-16's blade. His master winced, and like a predator scenting weakness, D-16 lunged.

Crash! Just as D-16 was about to make impact, there he was. "Stand down." D-16 struggled and writhed under the leg that held him down, his helm twisted aside to stare up at Sky Byte. "Dinner is right around the corner, you know, and I'd hate to spoil my appetite." The sharkticon's glossa licked over his sharp denta as a drip of lubricant-saliva spilled to land on D-16's face.

Before D-16 could speak, his Master's tendril grabbed his faceplate and yanked him to stare into his eyes. "Answer me, you ungrateful pile of scrap! How long has it been since your sparkling emerged?!" D-16 clenched his jaw, and with a growl, surged to bite down on his master's tendril.

Not a moment later, with a hard swing, his master launched D-16 across the room, and his body collided with the screen of his master's computer. In mere moments, he felt the pain of shattered glass, then wires as they fired electricity through his metal. D-16's screams joined those of his sparkling; squeaking and squealing as they ripped his child away from him.

When the loud pop of electricity that plunged the tower into darkness finally released D-16, he had only seconds before he hit the ground, unconscious.