Hidden beneath the crumbling red rocks of Jasper, Nevada, a bot that'd spent the last few decades racing across space as the war came to a dwindling and depressing close found himself bunkered in with a conglomerate of Autobots. 

Some he knew well, some he'd never heard of. 

"Wheeljack! Watch where you're stepping!" Once again, you'd turned from your datapad that had your servos practically dented into it from many months of use just to nag at him. 

Another Autobot gone soft; all you did now was read Earth fiction, old Cybertronian articles, and tell him off since he'd landed here. 

"Yeah, yeah, the kids aren't stupid. They can dodge, too." He groaned under his breath before sitting down away from the kids, resulting in a whine from Miko, who'd been trying to teach him to play some rock on her new guitar. 

"Kids shouldn't be dodging anything; they're kids." You corrected him before setting your datapad down in between the two of you to get up. 

Wheeljack glanced down to catch a glimpse of whatever you were reading, finding some pre-war article on quantum engine engineering. He never got how someone so annoying could be interested in cool things. 

Ushering the humans back onto their elevated space so they wouldn't be in danger of moving mechs, you took the chance to apologize to Miko for interrupting her lessons. 

Normally Wheeljack would be out for a mission, but the boss insisted he stay back with you in case you were needed elsewhere. 

Ratchet was also busy working on one of their larger projects: expanding the range of the ground bridge. It meant they needed someone to distract the kids and watch them as much as possible, and so the two of you were left alone. 

Well, as alone as you can be with a bunch of teens and Ratchet. 

"Hey! You and Wheeljack still at base?" Arcee's voice broke in through static, likely interference from the base, lighting up your comms. 

"We are. Need something?" You pressed a servo to the side of your helm to respond, standing up to alert Ratchet you may need to use the groundbridge. 

"We found some locations worth investigating. Our team is splitting into two, but we need you and Wheeljack at the third. Prepare for anything." Your comm beeped, informing you of some coordinates, just as she hung up. Somewhere in the snowy mountains of Northwest Territories, Canada. 

"Looks like we're needed elsewhere, Wheeljack. Let's get going." You turned to wave him over, which resulted in him getting up with a groan. You couldn't think of the last time you saw him do anything but frown. 

With a few digits punched into the machine and Ratchet calculating the rest, the green and purple swirls of the ground bridge ignited into a vortex, which you led the way through. 

Your temperature indicator quickly dropped by the double digits, from 35C to -20C in a matter of a few minutes. As cold as you remembered space being, you'd been subjected to such a warm environment for so long that it took a while to adjust. 

Wheeljack, on the other hand, had only been in Jasper so long and immediately pushed past you into the several feet of snow, nothing but tall pines and thick brush surrounding the two of you. Any trees had their branches thick with ice and snow, making them look as pure white as the rest of the landscape. 

It was so quiet you could hear your own spark pulse. 

"There should be a strong energon signal somewhere around here. We're looking for some kind of mine." Wheeljack had already pulled out the signal detector while you slowly warmed your engines up, hot steam escaping your mouth in an exhale. 

"Yeah, I'm picking up a few right now. Looks like they'd even defend a place as desolate as this." Wheeljack turned the reader off so no one would pick up on its signal either. 

If there was defence, the longer you were out here, the longer they'd have to notice your trace energies. 

"What are we waiting for? Let's break in!" Much to Wheeljack's surprise, you ran ahead of him, sword in hand, as you sliced through branches to clear a path. 

"Whoa! Wait up! What are you doing?" Wheeljack yelled out after you as you charged ahead in the direction of the signals, watching as you broke into a con-made clearing where two Vehicons guarded the entrance to a dugout cave. 

In a moment, you were on top of one with your sword, plunging it into their chassis. 

Wheeljack had no choice but to engage as the other one aimed in your direction, slicing its gun in half, which resulted in the explosion blowing its arm apart. You were already off the Vehicon and running into the cave, which forced him to kick the vehicon he was attacking down and slice its helm off in one swift sweep. 

His mask engaged, covering his mouth as he chased you into the cave, muttering under his breath. Just a moment ago you were as calm as ever, and now you were running ahead of him with no regard for the dangers.

This was when Wheeljack didn't do the buddy system; bots are just too complicated. 

When he caught up to you, you were in the main chasm of the dugout hole, surrounded by stashes of energon, though they varied in colour from mostly green to blue. 

More vehicons, which appeared to be working, turned to the two of you, and before he could react, you were already running at the two closest to you. 

The wrecker had worked with many before, but not many that'd throw themselves into a fight as casually as you did. Even as he bashed two vehicons helms together while making a sword swallowing act out of the third, his optics kept glancing your way. 

If he didn't know any better, he'd say you were a wrecker at some point, too. 

With your combined efforts, you were able to pile the vehicons into a corner and tie them together with some chains, left to the cave on your own. 

"Arcee, we're all wrapped up here. What do we do?" 

It took a couple of minutes before you got a reply, which Wheeljack spent looting the corpses for anything good. 

"Jeez, already? You two comm Ratchet and get as much energon back to base as you can; we'll see you there in a bit." 

Looking to Wheeljack, you pointed to the blue crates of energon, which he offered a thumbs up to. With his mask retracted, you could see his frown was a lot closer to a smile, which was the first of its kind. 

You were able to contact Ratchet, who opened up a ground bridge for the two of you, and Wheeljack got to lugging through crates while you took to collapsing in the cave entrance. 

You wouldn't want humans to find any evidence of this or for the wildlife to interact with the toxic substances in the crates. 

As you two grabbed the last few crates, Wheeljack stopped you before you went back to base for good. 

"Hey, what was up with all of that?" He gestured with his helm back to the pile of vehicons, to which you shrugged. 

"I mean, why act out like that? Aren't you supposed to be Miss-Don't-Do-That or Miss-Wheeljack-Stop-Screwing-Around?" You took a moment to consider what he was referencing before laughing in realization. 

"Oh god, that's right! You've only seen me at base!" He only stared at you with narrow optics, which eventually softened; he'd come to like that laugh. 

"No, Wheeljack, this is me. I just really want the kid to know they're safe. Can you imagine how scared they are, surrounded by a big wad of sentient metal as a small, fragile organism?" 

Thinking about Miko, Raf, and Jack had you worrying again, and you pushed forward to the portal. 

"If you want to know more, you'll have to stop begging to go on missions alone." You disappeared into the swirling lights, leaving Wheeljack on his own in the cave. 

"Yeah, right." The mech mumbled under his breath. He could take this crate of energon, get on his ship, and leave anytime he wanted; no femme was going to change that. 

Yet, he found himself chasing you through the portal, without a second thought.

Author's Note - I tried so hard on this you don't even want to know! I hope its what you were looking for <3

At the beginning of the war, you joined the Autobots because you believed in peace. You found Megatron’s and his Decepticons’ methods and ideals cruel and unjust. 

At first, you weren’t aware that you had the ability to come back to life after certain death. The first time it happened was when the outpost you were stationed at got attacked with heavy artillery, and you woke up later to find the outpost destroyed, with you and your supervisor as the only survivors. 

You thought it was luck until the second time you died. 

It was during a Decepticon assault on one of the Autobot bases. You tried your best to follow Optimus and your supervisor to battle and live, but then the combaticons entered the battlefield and formed into Bruticus. You were helpless against the combiner as Bruticus used his ability to send you and many of your Autobot comrades flying in the air. Darkness was what you met when you hit the wall and the ground. 

That should have been the end of you, but then you woke up, back at the spot where you fell. Your wounds healed like your body had regenerated itself. 

You had no time to ponder how you survived when you saw the combiner ready to kill your supervisor. Acting quickly, you hopped on the combiner’s back and distracted him enough to free your supervisor. With your supervisor free, you two made your escape from the combiner. 

Your supervisor was surprised but glad to see you alive. With the ongoing battle, you had no time to ponder the answers to your survival. But from that day forth, you knew there was something different about you. 

You shared what happened with the other bots, especially when all the wounds you sustained during that battle were no more. Since no one saw how you came back online, they suspected you might have been lucky or possessed an outlier ability to regenerate yourself. You didn’t believe in that theory because you had sustained injuries before that never healed by themselves. 

It left you feeling slightly freaked out. How did your injuries fix themselves? How did you even come back online? 

You especially remember taking the brunt of that hit, which felt like all joints of your protoform were shattered and slamming hard against the ground from the fall, killing you. 

You tried not to think about that incident as the war continued. But then, you started hearing… him. 

He was a bodiless voice. You nearly panicked the first time you heard him, and believed that the war had officially messed up your head, until you realized he was speaking through a small insect. His voice was rather gentle, and he claimed to be someone close to you. You doubted the last part, even though he sounded oddly familiar. 

He did not reveal his name to you initially, claiming it would be revealed to you in time. It left you in doubt, especially when he claimed he was there to help you. 

Well… despite the oddity of your bodiless friend, he spoke the truth. Through a small insect, he helped you through many missions, especially those that involved more strange phenomena around you. And sometimes, he even became a source of comfort, especially when the war began to take its toll on you. 

Throughout the war, you managed to fulfill many missions without dying. You tried to avoid it as you didn’t want to test if you could return from the dead the second time. Even if you did, you did not want to have new memories of it. 

You managed to make a small name for yourself, becoming known as the reliable Autobot soldier and comrade. Despite the strange occurrences around you and the mystery of your return from the dead, Optimus and the other Autobots trusted you. It felt great, and for a while, the war seemed to go in your side’s favor. You felt hopeful that you would be able to put an end to this conflict soon and see Cybertron return to the peaceful days. 

Unfortunately, those hopes were turned upside down when the Decepticons suddenly got the upper hand, but you finally gained an answer to the mystery of your death when you, along with your supervisor and other captured Autobots, were executed. 

You watched helplessly as your supervisor was killed right before your eyes, and then it was your turn. Right in front of your leader’s eyes, you were shot in the chest. You felt the searing pain as the blast melted through your armor and extinguished your spark — everything then fell into darkness. 

The shot went right into your spark, so there shouldn’t have been any coming back for you. 

But… you later woke up and found yourself in the trash suite, where you and your dead Autobot comrades were discarded.

You were filled with shock because this time, you knew you should be dead, but you were alive. There was something different as well, around you; there were scorch marks, and your entire body seemed to have gone through a change. Your armor was tougher with no holes in your spark chamber, you had become taller, there was an odd fire-red glow in your optics, and your spark…

…Your spark felt like it burned brighter than ever. 

You struggled to comprehend your situation, but with Optimus and other Autobots still captive, you pulled yourself together and took action. Escaping the trash suite proved no difficulties, but sneaking around the facility with Decepticons everywhere was challenging. However, you managed to find your way to Optimus and other captives and free them when the opportunity arose. 

They were startled by your appearance, especially since they were there when you were executed, but you managed to free them and escape the Decepticons. 

They had many questions for which you did not have an answer. Optimus was glad to see you alive, despite being equally shocked. He also felt something shift in the Matrix of Leadership when he stood near you. He couldn’t tell what it was, but it was clear that there was something special about you. 

Since that day, you gained the name The Soldier Who Came Back From The Dead. You did not know what to think of it. You had hoped your bodiless friend would come and give you an answer, since he seemed to know something about you that you didn’t.

Despite the incident, you continued fighting. However, the war did not take a turn for the better, especially when all the Energon reserves were completely depleted. Things took an even worse turn when Megatron returned. 

In your last mission, your task was to prevent the Decepticon abominations from escaping. Things turned dire, so you stayed behind to ensure the abominations would not escape. The whole building collapsed, and you were buried under it. You should have died, but you came back again and spent a lot of time digging your way back to the surface.  

After witnessing the outcome of the last battle, you wandered your lifeless homeworld, trying to salvage whatever Energon was left and see if you could find anyone who stayed behind. 

One day, you found your way to the tower that activated the space bridge and found a life signal. Deciding to investigate, you stumbled upon the infamous Grimlock.

He was barely online since he was near the blast, but you managed to stabilize him with whatever spare parts and medical knowledge you had, saving his life. You then helped him through the insecticon-infested land and eventually found his team. Luckily, they weren’t too far, as they had been looking for him since the blast. 

With their help and a makeshift base, you managed to fix all of Grimlock's injuries. 

After you told them what happened to you, they accepted you into their group. Grimlock was slightly grumpy about it. He was not keen on strangers, but since you technically saved his life, he allowed it, though he made it clear that they would leave you behind if you dragged them down. 

You had heard from Optimus about him, so his attitude did not fully faze you, but you did try your best to be helpful to the team.

Luckily, it wasn’t difficult. Aside from Grimlock, they were actually easy to get along with despite their unusual quirks. Apparently, Shockwave had experimented on them, resulting in their new beast-like modes. You found their alternative modes fascinating, as they were creatures you had never seen before. They shared that they found records about a different world that had these creatures, which their alternative modes were modeled after. It was also the world to which Shockwave opened the space bridge, answering the question of where the space bridge took the Autobots and Decepticons.

They had actually heard little about you and your return from the dead, which allowed for some conversation. Unfortunately, you still did not have an answer for how you were able to come back. 

Surviving in your now-dead home world was challenging. There were dangers everywhere, and there wasn’t much Energon, thanks to Megatron poisoning Cybertron’s core with Dark Energon. 

You could still remember that day like yesterday, how your world died beneath your feet. It made you feel great sadness. As Dark Energon flourished in dead places, you came across it many times during your travels. 

Strangely, the Dark Energon didn’t seem to have any effect on you. On the contrary, when you stood near it, it seemed to replenish your energy. It was odd—you’d heard of its corrupting qualities, yet for you, it appeared to be nourishing. Maybe just another strange phenomenon to add to the growing list of weird things you could do. Just… what are you? Why are you capable of these things?

You and the Dinobots eventually found a place to establish a safe haven—a place where you could rest and plan your next moves. With nearly everything on the surface either destroyed or unsafe, you chose to build your base underground.

Things were stable for a while. 

One day, you suddenly saw the familiar bug and heard your friend's voice again. You had wondered where he had been since he had been quiet for a long time. 

When you asked, he apologized and replied that he had been caught up in things. 

He then revealed to you that there was a location that had Energon and something that belonged to you. You were confused and asked what he meant. He explained it was something that was taken from you a long time ago. If you managed to get it back, it would help you and your dinobot friends in the long run.

You were uncertain about it, but since there was a possibility of finding energon, you decided to tell the Dinobots. They were hesitant to trust a bug, and you didn’t blame them—you hadn’t exactly told your Autobot comrades about your friend either, unsure how to explain it without sounding crazy. However, with energon supplies running low, they chose to trust your judgment and agreed to investigate the location with you.

With your friend's guidance, you came to what seemed to be an old Decepticon research facility. There were insecticons, but not the kind that obeyed Shockwave. Strangely, these insecticons left you be and just observed you and the dinobots from a distance. Even Grimlock thought it was weird. 

Without further issues, you entered the facility. You searched for the Energon and the strange item your friend said belonged to you. 

However, you were not alone in the facility. 

Grimlock had shared that Shockwave had been at the tower when it blew up, so the infamous Decepticon scientist should be offline. Grimlock himself nearly went offline, and it was by luck that you found and repaired him in time. 

Well, turns out Megatron’s valued scientist was still online. 

When you least expected it, the facility came online, and Shockwave’s voice echoed through the rooms. He then activated the facility’s system, forcing you and your companions to disperse and avoid getting caught by traps set by the con. 

You had heard a thing or two about Shockwave and his experiments, but you never imagined yourself ending up as one of his targets. 

Swoop figured that you needed to shut down the system from the main control center. So, that’s what you all aimed for. 

It was a difficult struggle. You ended up separating to increase your chances of getting to the main center, but you eventually got there first. 

You stood in front of the closed doors. Fear and anxiety flared within you as there was a high possibility that Shockwave was in there. The reasonable action would be to wait for your companions to catch up with you, but they were dispersed around the facility and possibly trapped. If you don't act, they might get caught in something they will not walk out of alive. 

“I’m at the main center. I’m going to shut down the system,” you said through the comm. 

“Are you sure? Shockwave might be in there?” Swoop questioned. 

“I proceed with caution. The quicker I get the system down, the quicker you can get here,” You replied. 

“Alright. Be careful,” Swoop answered. 

You took a deep breath. You hacked through the doors by pulling out the right wires from the console, a trick you learned from Wheeljack, and entered the main center. 

The room had consoles and terminals around. And at the end of the room, you saw what seemed to be an observation deck that showed you an arena. You figured that this facility was used to engineer and test out weapons.

You then noticed what seemed to be a sword hovering inside a stand. Its metal was black, and the blade was shattered into pieces. It had a red gem embedded on its handle, which glowed with a soft red light.

Curious and feeling a strange pull toward the broken sword, you walked closer. The light from its gem began to glow brighter when you came near it, and then you felt your spark quietly pulsing. It left you feeling strange. 

Was this the item your friend told you to look for? 

You then remembered your current task. 

You looked around the room and found the main console. Rushing to it, you examined the buttons and monitors. Through several monitor screens, you spotted Grimlock and the others trapped in various rooms. By pressing the buttons, you shut down the facility’s system, releasing your companions from their traps. 

You then opened your comm. “Swoop, Grimlock. I shut down the system, but there’s no sign of Shockwave,” you said. 

“Good job. Wait for us there. We’ll catch up with you,” Swoop replied. 

You then released a relieved exhale, but your momentary relief was short-lived when you noticed Shockwave standing right next to you. You blocked when he tried to hit you with his cannon-like arm, but then he grabbed you, effortlessly picking you up and sending you flying across the room. 

You slammed hard against the flooring, groaning painfully as you received some painful bruises. But then you saw one of those giant servo claws hanging above you. You yelped when it grabbed you by your waist and then slammed you hard against the nearest wall. 

You groaned in pain as you hit your head. When you regained your bearings and saw Shockwave, you tried to use your blaster arm, but it was grabbed by another servo claw, pinning you against the wall. You tried to struggle and pull yourself free, but the servo claws had a strong grip on you, leaving you defenseless against Shockwave. 

“Proceeding on your own and letting down your guard so quickly was the most illogical action, but I guess I should thank you. For it allowed you to be separated from your companions and allowed me the chance to contain you. Now I can deal with your dinobot friends,” Shockwave said as he turned the facility’s system back online. 

“(Name). What’s going on?” Swoop asked through the comm as he and Grimlock were locked in a room. 

“It’s Shockwave! He’s here. Get out of there!” you answered, but your comlink was soon cut off. 

“Now that we have some privacy, we can talk,” Shockwave turned toward you. 

“If you think I’m going to be an easy test subject for you, Shockwave,  you are dead wrong,” you replied. 

“Megatron is no longer on Cybertron. You no longer have Insecticons to fight for you. Grimlock and the others will get through your traps and come for you,” you added. 

“We shall see about that. I have no use for my previous experiments. My goal here was to obtain you,” Shockwave stated. 

“Me?” you frowned. 

“For what?” you asked before glancing at the sword that still glowed with red light.  

“The sword?” 

“Good. You catch on quickly. I wish the same could be said about your dinobot companions,” Shockwave said as he turned toward the broken sword. 

“I... do not understand. What do I have to do with that sword? What’s so special about it anyway?” you questioned. 

“That is what I am here to find out, and to answer your other question…” Shockwave stood before the broken blade. 

“This is the sword Coreiseuse, the Wrathful Blade — a weapon that belonged to one of Unicron’s children, the Harbinger of War,” Shockwave began. “It is said to grant its wielder control over armies and ensure victory in any battle,” he continued.

“At first we thought Coreiseuse and the Harbingers of Unicron were nothing but a myth—until we discovered a vault where the blade had been hidden by the ancient Autobots who once tried to harness its power,” he said.

You looked at him, puzzled. The Harbingers of Unicron? 

“The ancient archives revealed that Coreiseuse caused everyone who tried to wield it to fall into utter madness, causing them to attack anyone in sight until they die. The ancient Autobots concluded Coreiseuse would only respond to its previous master or one it deems equally worthy,” Shockwave continued. 

“Lord Megatron attempted to harness Coreiseuse and finally bring an end to the war and the Autobots. However, Coreiseuse rejected him. He managed to withstand Coreiseuse’s maddening energy due to the dark energon in his veins, but despite his immunity and might, the blade broke itself as a last act of resistance,” he revealed. 

You did not know if you felt glad about the outcome. 

"Several attempts were made to repair Coreiseuse, but with no success, as the metal it was made from refused to be shaped and continued breaking through other alloys it could have been repaired with. I then attempted to utilize its energy that still lay dormant within, but even that soon depleted. It had become nothing but a broken trinket.” Shockwave then turned toward you. 

“But then you arrived,”  

“When my scanners detected you in the area, Coreiseuse awakened from its dormancy and pulsated like it was calling you toward it,” he said.

“The Autobot soldier who came back from the dead,” he added, which caused you to feel dread. 

He knew? 

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” you said.

“Do not try to act coy with me,” Shockwave stated. 

“You might have gone unnoticed by your Autobots and your precious leader, but you have certainly not gone unnoticed by me,” he said as he pushed a button, which brought out a monitor. The monitor turned on and showed you a familiar trash suite. 

“This was taken after your corpse was thrown out after your execution,” Shockwave said as you watched the footage.  

In the footage, you saw your own lifeless body suddenly starting to levitate. It then began glowing with a brilliant red light. There was a sound, and the footage flickered as the glow illuminated the entire room. The glow then vanished, and you saw yourself, waking up alive, the corpses around you burning. 

You did not know what to think. You never really knew how you came back to life, so this was the first time you’ve seen it happen. So, that’s how you came to life?

“When I saw the footage, I suspected you were a fireborn at first. However, your rebirth seems to have the opposite effect on the environment. I studied the energy traces your resurrection left, and the results have been fascinating,” Shockwave spoke.

“You are something else,” he said. “The question is… what?” 

“I… do not know,” you uttered, shaking your head. You did not honestly have any idea. 

“After that day, I had observed you. (Name), A faithful Autobot soldier who mysteriously came back to life. I hoped to ask Lord Megatron to have you obtained for research, but back then, we had more concerning matters to solve,” Shockwave continued. 

“And now, seeing Coreiseuse reacting to your presence. It is reasonable to believe that you share a connection. It could be that you are a descendant of the Harbinger of War, or a reincarnation,” Shockwave theorized. 

“Whatever it is, you might be the key to repairing Coreiseuse and revealing a way to harness its power,” he added. 

You glared at him. “If you think I willingly work for someone like you, you have more than a few screws loose in your processor,” you said. 

“Oh, I do not need your cooperation, but it might make your life easier if you do,” Shockwave replied.  

“Otherwise, I would just open you up and see what makes you tick, but something tells me you are more valuable alive, and that you are incapable of staying offline,” he replied. 

“We can get started once I’ve dealt with your companions,” he said as he turned toward the console. 

You started panicking when you saw him control the traps. Struggling against the servo claws that held you against the wall, you watched helplessly as he controlled the facility. Through the monitors, you saw Grimlock and the others get stuck in traps where death was certain. You began to panic, struggling to free yourself from the servos. What now? If you don’t do something, Grimlock and the others might get destroyed. 

What now? 

What now?!

“Calm down. It will be alright,” 

You stopped when you heard your friend’s voice and saw the insect land on the servo that held you. 

Your friend chuckled. 

“Shockwave is a fool. A Harbinger’s weapon cannot be wielded by anyone except by the Harbinger it was forged for. Even if he found a way to repair Coreiseuse, he would not be able to wield its power, not even his precious Lord Megatron. It will only break again,” he said with amusement. 

“Please…” you uttered quietly. “Is there something you can do to help?” you asked. 

“I don’t want them to…” You looked toward the monitors, where you saw Grimlock and the others getting closer to certain death. 

“Don’t panic,” your friend said softly. “Unfortunately, I have already done my part. There's nothing else I need to do. “ 

You looked down defeatedly. 

“... but you can,” he added. 

You looked up at the bug. 

“How?” you questioned. 

He chuckled. 

“You do remember the reason I guided you here? “ he asked. 

You then looked toward Coreiseuse. The light around it glowed as you looked at it, and you felt slightly baffled. Coreiseuse was… yours?

“That’s right,” your friend said. 

“Call out to Coreiseuse. “

“It will answer to you, for you are its true master,” he stated. 

Your spark began pulsing as you felt an invisible bond with the broken blade. 

“And once it is back in your hands, all the questions you ever had will finally be answered.” 

Feeling your spark burn within your chest, you looked at Shockwave. All the memories of the war, the losses, and the continuing madness crossed your mind. Throughout this war, you had tried to stay strong and keep yourself together, but now, Shockwave planned to kill the only friends you had left on this dead planet. 

You do not know what you will do if Grimlock and the others die in this place. The idea of it was enough to make you feel angry. 

“Good. You have fought for so long, trying to obtain peace. Now, it's time to release your rage,” your friend spoke. 

“Call out to Coreiseuse and unleash your anger,” he encouraged. 

You took a deep breath and looked toward Coreiseuse as it glowed, as if sensing the anger within you, almost as if it were urging you to command it. You extended your hand, reaching for the bond between you and the blade.

“Show this fool… who you are,”

Letting down the walls you had kept so long, you allowed your anger to come forth. Your spark pulsed, and Coreiseuse responded in kind. Suddenly, your entire frame began releasing burning red energy, and through your optics, you saw red. The claw servos began to melt from the intensity of the energy that sprouted from your veins and armor. 

Coreiseuse glowed, responding to your call. Its broken pieces began to place themselves back into their places. 

You breathed heavily as you felt yourself burn. The anger, despair, everything you had felt throughout the war poured out like a flaming river.

When all Coreiseuse’s broken pieces placed themselves back together, the red gem on the handle glowed, causing the steel to burn and mend itself. Once complete, it flew out of the stand and into your hand, catching Shockwave off guard when he noticed what was happening. 

You then yelled in rage as you swiped your blade, releasing a powerful wave of energy. Everything in the main center exploded, shutting down the systems, and Shockwave was flown out through the observation deck as the glass broke. 

He hit the wall of the arena and fell to the ground. He groaned as he kneeled up. Several of his systems were damaged, and his frame sustained heavy scorch wounds. He then looked back toward the observation deck. 

With Coreiseuse in hand, you appeared on the observation deck. Red energy radiated around your frame, and your optics burned crimson. Two horns sprouted from your helm, and the energy formed behind you, casting the shape of two wings on your back.

As the arena lights were destroyed by the blast, the space was illuminated solely by the red energy surrounding you.

“Illogical,” Shockwave uttered in astonishment. 

“You cannot be a cybertronian. What are you?” he questioned. 

“From the moment I was born... a voice echoed,” you uttered, your voice deep and resonating with another beneath it.

“With your burning red spark, you shall judge over conflicts and unleash the flames of chaos. And with this blade, you shall wield your wrath and ensure your judgment leads to either victory or ruin,” you said.

“Go forth and bring war, my child of flame,” you added, your gaze fixed on Shockwave.

You roared as you swiped your blade, unleashing a powerful wave of energy at Shockwave. He managed to take cover and narrowly avoided the strike. The burning slash hit the arena ceiling, triggering a collapse.

Shockwave looked toward the open ceiling before turning toward you. “This will not be over,” he said as he transformed and escaped through the open ceiling. 

After he was gone, the energy radiating from your spark dissipated. You collapsed to one knee, using Coreiseuse for support as exhaustion hit you hard. Your breaths came deep and heavy, every movement weighed down by fatigue. Still, you couldn’t help but marvel at the destruction you had unleashed with Coreiseuse.

And that was not all. 

The moment Coreiseuse flew into your hands, your mind was flooded with knowledge and memories that hadn’t been there before. It was as if missing pieces suddenly clicked into place. They didn’t feel like memories exactly, but more like truths—feelings of who you truly are, where you came from, and what you are.

And then there was your friend—the one who called himself someone close to you.

He said his name would reveal itself to you in time, because deep down, you had always known who he was.

And who you truly are.

You suddenly heard the door being ripped open. Grimlock and Swoop ran through, having been freed from their traps. 

“(Name)! Are you alright?!” Swoop ran up to you before seeing the destruction you made. 

“Woah! What happened over here?” he asked.

“Did you do that? We heard a loud explosion and all the systems went down,” he questioned. 

You sighed, not even sure how to explain it. 

“Where is Shockwave?” Grimlock looked around. 

“He escaped. After I took control of this sword, I… well… this happened,” you motioned toward the destruction. 

“Well… if it's that powerful. I guess it will help us out in the long run. We found a good amount of energon to bring back as well,” Swoop stated. 

“That’s not all… This blade… Shockwave said it belonged to the Harbinger of War,” You looked at the blade in your hand. 

“The Harbinger of War? You mean one of Unicron’s children?” Swoop questioned, slightly baffled. 

“And the voice that led us here... he said it rightfully belongs to me, and the reason I keep coming back to life. I…” you hesitated.

A tear slid down your cheek, the realization weighing heavily on your mind.

“I might not be a cybertronian at all,” you exclaimed. 

“I’m suddenly aware of everything, why I came back, who the voice is, yet I also feel like I know nothing,” you said. “I…don’t know what’s going on with me,” 

Grimlock and Swoop looked at each other, unsure how to react. 

“Hey… uh… how about we grab the energon and return to base? Let’s try to sort this out there. Can you stand ?” Swoop asked softly. 

You tried to stand, pushing yourself up, but your legs were weak and exhausted, nearly giving out beneath you. Swoop caught you just in time and supported your weight.

“Woah! Easy! Whatever you did, it took a toll on you, didn’t it?” he asked. 

 “Sorry… I know I promised not to drag you down, but… I can’t help it,” you said, glancing at Grimlock. 

Grimlock huffed. “(Name)... one of us, “ he uttered, and then suddenly picked you up. You nearly yelped out of surprise, wrapping your other arm around his shoulder as he effortlessly carried you on his one arm. “And dinobots… do not leave their own behind,” he said as he started walking out of the room, carrying you on his arm. 

Swoop followed. “Whoa! Kind of an improvement from the big guy, “ he grinned. 

“But Grim’s right. You are one of us now. And whatever is going on with you, don’t worry about it. We help you figure it out, just like how you helped us,” Swoop said.

“Right, Grim?” he glanced at the bigger bot.

Grimlock only grumbled as he kept walking.

You showed a soft smile. “Thank you… “You said. 

“Any time, buddy. Besides… you got someone like Shockwave run away with his tailpipe between his legs. I say you are more than welcome to stick with us,” Swoop grinned. 

-

Optimus ducked as he walked past the door frame, mumbling to himself. His eyes were glued to the data disks in his hands; he had grabbed far too many. A few dropped to the ground. He bent to pick them up, but only lost more in the process. Optimus shook his head and resorted to sitting on the ground, spreading out the data. Now he could read them better, though some of the works and markings were faded and illegible. He grunted, his legs getting in the way. Being taller and bulkier had its advantages in battle, but he couldn't exactly crawl through vents like he used to. Bee had joked that perhaps the Matrix of Leadership had a "switch" for shrinking, but Elita said that size didn't matter. Then, she promptly added, stupidity was sure to remain.

He was glad he didn't intimidate her, even after becoming a prime. Her suggestion to "adapt" to sudden change was both firm and helpful, though harsh. Now, it settled deep in his spark, and he began to overthink. What if he didn't adapt? Would she think less of him?

A memory flashed through his mind, eliminating his worries about Eilta. He may have been dying, but he remembered catching a glimpse of Elita leaning towards the edge of the well when he fell. It was both shocking and endearing, but he was glad Bee yanked her back. It warmed his heart before pain overtook it, pain so great that it rendered him unconscious. He hadn't mentioned it to her, and he didn't think he ever would. It would be a secret to hold on to, at least for the time being.

Optimus was so engrossed in his work he didn't hear the automatic doors open. When footfalls finally reached his ears, Optimus scrambled and gathered up the data disks to the best of his ability. Elita and a few of her soldiers in training turned the corner and walked down the hall. Elita put her hands on her hips.

"And here is our leader, on the ground and sorting through old data disks like a desperate scavenger. Don't worry; he's tougher than he looks."

"That's reassuring," said one of the trainees; a pink and white female cybertronian.

Optimus cleared his throat, gave a lop-sided grin, and backed up. He dumped the data disks on a table and apologized, though it was mostly for Elita's sake. When he returned to the group, Elita gave him an amused look, but waved a hand in front of the trainees.

"This is Arcee, Smoke, and Cliffjumper. It's part of their training to visit the archives. A tactical warrior is just as powerful as a physically strong one."

"Wheeljack was part of your training program, wasn't he?" Optimus asked.

Elita rolled her eyes, and Cliffjumper answered for her, holding back a laugh. "He got bored."

"He joked about starting his own group; a group that didn't mind going the extreme," Smoke said.

He paused, then added to his statement. "Maybe it wasn't a joke."

"It definitely wasn't a joke," Arcee said.

"I'll have a talk with him later," Elita said, and Optimus nodded.

He stared at the wall just above their heads, lost in thought. Elita straightened.

"You ok?" she asked.

"What?" Optimus snapped out of it. "Oh, I'm fine."

Elita turned to address her trainees. "Meal break. Get your energon and look over some of the data this place has to offer that you think will benefit you. I want you at the station in a couple of hours; no sooner, no later. Got it?"

They nodded and obeyed; heading down the hall and turning the corner. Silence fell as their chattering grew distant.

"I said I was fine," Optimus said, attempting a laugh.

It sounded hollow.

"What's wrong, Pax?"

Optimus' shoulders dropped in surrender. When she called him that, he always felt inclined to answer, as if he were a miner under her command again. "Pax" or "Orion" would only come from her, though, and she never used it in front of others. He was to be Optimus Prime to everyone else; a title that carried authority and a great deal of weight. All cybertronian citizens were aware that their life could never be the same; many were expected to train. Really, he wasn't the only one experiencing change.

"I don't know if I can do this," Optimus blurted, clenching his fists.

"You're going to have to be more specific," Elita said.

"I'm a prime, but I've never led. I'm expected to fight in a war that hasn't begun but haunts the future. I think we both know Megatron will be back; he will want to take my place. Maybe he should."

Elita sighed and took Optimus' hand. "Come on."

Dazed, Optimus nodded. They walked down the hall and through various rooms. Neither of them let go, fingers tightly intertwined.

"Find a place where we can talk, Pax. I haven't broken in here like you have."

"Commander's orders," Optimus said, picking up the pace.

They entered a dimly lit, musky room. Elita coughed, letting go of Optimus' hand to wave her hand in front of her face. "Couldn't you have picked a better place?"

"The worst places are often the best places," Optimus said.

"Is this vagueness going to be regular thing, now? I hate it."

Optimus braced his back against a shelving unit, though it didn't contain very many data disks. With a grunt he gave a few hard shoves, and the shelving unit moved to reveal a broken door that led to a precarious platform overlooking Iacon.

"Is this how you would get in?" Elita asked, coming closer to observe.

"No; there were more dangerous entry points with small ventilation systems. I got stuck for a full twenty minutes, once."

"And to think... if you had just stayed there, we could have avoided all this chaos."

"What... and have Cybertron miss this charm?" Optimus motioned to himself.

Elita rolled her eyes, but Optimus caught a small smile. He backed up, letting her go first, and Elita stepped onto the platform and approached the edge. She leaned forward, and Optimus sucked in an inward breath, squeezing past the door frame. She sat at the edge, legs dangling. As soon as Optimus sat beside her, she spoke.

"You won't know how to lead."

Great. Another one of her "encouraging" pep talks. Elita turned her head and waited until Optimus locked eyes with her.

"What I mean is... leading can never be mastered," Elita said. "So, you need to act like you have it all figured out. Voice your fears with the ones you trust, but don't put them on public display. You're right; Megatron is out there somewhere, plotting your demise."

"I don't like the thought of preparing citizens for war," Optimus said.

"It has to be done. The few already capable fighters we have don't stand a chance."

"I know."

"We have to win," Elita said.

Silence fell. They could both agree on that. Elita put a hand on his shoulder.

"You are nothing like Megatron."

"I... try to envision him as he was. He was my greatest friend, Elita. And yet, anyone is capable of betrayal."

"You may doubt yourself, but I would never betray you. Even when I seemed your enemy, yelled at you, and -"

"Punched me in the face?" Optimus offered.

"Yes, even then, I never hated you. You were just... too ambitious and eager for my taste."

"Interesting," Optimus said, looking upwards in thought.

Elita laughed and knocked him in the shoulder, and Optimus gasped dramatically and fell, rolling closer to the edge of the platform.

"I thought you would stop punching me," Optimus groaned, finally sitting up when Elita's eyes widened, no doubt worried he might fall, or perhaps having PTSD of when he had, in fact, fallen.

"Oh, come on! That wasn't a punch," Elita said.

Optimus laughed and stood up, offering a hand. Elita took it, and he helped her up.

"What were you doing rifling through the data disks, anyway?"

"I'm trying to find what remains of Alpha Trion's wisdom. The Matrix of Leadership offers many surprises, but I'm without a mentor. I wish he were here."

"You have everything and everyone you need," Elita said.

Optimus dipped his head, and Elita placed her hands on either side of his face, lifting it back up. "I expect you to be on the training grounds this afternoon. Maybe you can convince Wheeljack to join the group."

"Would they listen to me?"

"You have an axe for a hand. How could they not?"

Optimus laughed, and Elita lowered her hands, nodding in satisfaction.

"Thanks, Elita."

“Arcee, calm down. Let me disable your pain sensors.” He reached over to the back of her helm, only for her to turn it, bite his servo, angle her frame and kick him away. He crashed into his equipment with a swear, and she ran off the medical slab.

The entire room was piled high with equipment and beds and data pads. Wires matted the floor, making it almost impossible for her to make it to the double sliding doors. Almost. They slid open, revealing an even brighter hallway with white, matte metal walls with a blue line in the middle. She found her legs again and ran. The Decepticons couldn't have gotten her, could they? The concrete floors thumped with every step. Where? Where? She turned left, then right and then right again only to be met with another set of doors. She pressed the keypad, pounding a weak fist against it. It buzzed in denial.

“PLEASE!” Pede steps rang close. Arcee turned, faceplate to faceplate with three over bots: one pink, one green, and one mostly white. She was on her in a klick. It didn't matter how much Arcee tried pushing her away with her only remaining arm or attempted to bite, the older femme had her pinned down–even her legs.

“Arcee, please, look at me,” her familiar voice rang out. “You know me. Please.” It was soft and stern all at the same time.

Only then did she allow herself to finally look at the people around her. Fluids welled in her optics at the sight. She choked out the name, almost in prayer, “Elita. Is–is it really you?” She strained at the end.

She looked so much older now, with grooves in her faceplate from making so many expressions over so long. Her optics had dulled but were still their perfect shape. The metal paint that once coated her derma had faded to the faintest trace of blue-grey. A single, deep scratch cut through the metal right below her left optic; despite all these new changes, it was still Elita. Her close-knit EM field proved it.

“Yes.” Her grip relaxed, gently pulling away and to the side so that her next request could be complete, “Now, let's get you standing and have Ratchet finish fixing your arm. We'll talk about all that you've missed after.” Softness, that's all that Arcee could describe herself feeling towards the older femme.

Arcee found herself being lifted up by Springer with Elita-1's arms wrapped around her to keep her supported. The small group wandered through the concrete and metal hallways, each almost the same as the last with only the colored stripes changing. Red, green, purple, darker red, and finally blue. There above the door was a hanging sign that read, “MEDIC,” in bold letters. Ratchet opened the sliding doors once more, taking Arcee from Elita and setting her onto the slab, almost as if she was some fragile art piece of glass. Springer paused at the door, his large frame hunched over in on itself while his faceplate had been twisted with an expression she couldn't make up. Every fiber and atom of her being wanted to tell him to stop looking at her like that.

Ratchet reached for a small controller, pressing a button to make half of the medical slab raise so that she was sitting up. His servos found the spot in the back of her helm, unscrewing a panel and hooking something into her processor. The datapad glowed green, illuminating him as he tapped at various things–no doubt her medical forms.

“We didn't know if you would ever wake up.” Guilt soaked his voice.

“Just fix my arm for me.” She couldn't find it in her to look at him, some strange emotion pool in her spark chamber. She couldn't even remember why.

There was no feeling in the entirety of her right side, even split down her face plate and pedes.

The room was a complete mess, but with aisles so that Ratchet could make his way through. There were eight beds against each wall, each with various tools shoved in drawers between them. In the far wall there was a half-open, undoubtedly broken door with red letters that simply said, “Storage.” The floor tiles were chipping and blue seemed to stain between them. Machines hooked up to the walls–most of their wires were bound together to keep them out of the way. Closest to the main door, was a pile of toppled over boxes, spilling multi-colored wires and tubing.

Moving her left legs back and forth to keep herself busy, she ignored the sparks coming from her body and the mech beside her. How could things have turned out differently? How long was she asleep? Why were the last few years so fuzzy? She chewed on the inside of her mouth.

She sighed but only half of her faceplate reacted. She touched it, feeling the smoothness of her metal. Did she look older like Elita? Or was she frozen in time? What a terrible thought. It couldn't have possibly been more than a few deca-cycles couldn't it? Why had Elita looked so aged? Arcee shoved that thought down, instead she traced the cracks in the walls with her optics.

Hours passed and suddenly Ratchet was behind her helm again, unplugging things and reattaching the panel. He grunted and mumbled under his breath as he moved. Feeling returned almost within the snap of a klick. Arcee finally looked at her new limb. Red and black with mix-matching as if it had been reinforced with scrap pieces of metal.

“What? Don't like the color?” There was that stupid smile on Ratchet's face–which quickly faded with a glare. “Sorry. ‘Trying to lighten the mood… How about we get you some Energon? Your body needs some after this whole ordeal.” He stood up, strutting to a locked cabinet and grabbing an energon cube, cupping it in his servos before passing it off to her.

Pressed it to her derma, Arcee took slow sips of the liquid. It flowed through every part of her body, and it felt as if it had been ages since she had drank any. She left a groan except her, optics closed. Barely turning any part of her frame, she questioned him.

“What are you staring at, Ratchet?”

He looked away, optics back on the data pad in front of him. “You were out for so long. You missed a lot. It's good to have you back.” He swallowed thickly, turning his chair so that there wasn't even a chance that he could look at her. “I'll have Elita-1 give you a run down on everything once you're done with that unless you want to get some more rest.”

“I think I've had enough rest to last me centuries. I just want to know what's going on. You know I hate being in the dark about things. Not even Optimus kept me in the dark about things.”

“So be it.”

There were still some things that flashed in her processor whenever she tried to look back. Names and faces mostly, sometimes snapshots of scenes and battles would sizzle in. The most vivid one being of all those sparklings and young bots she had taken care of. It had been a dream teaching them, even with her limited funds and all those shifts at the factory but she always tried to spruce up her apartment that she taught out of. Where were they now? Either dead or soldiers in this endless war. Now, it was her turn for guilt.

She finished the last of the energon, helm upturned to try and get every last drop. Arcee set it on the work table, digits tracing lines in the slab. “You can call her now.” Ratchet just grumbled in response.

Arcee continued to stretch out her new digits, allowing her other hand to feel along the grooves. It would take some getting used to, of course.

The sound of Elita’s heel struts clicked into hearing range and suddenly, the sliding doors were open. She more put-together this time, arms folded behind her back and a semi-pleasant expression on her face. She glided all the way to the end of the bed–not even caring for the mess of wires– and extended her servo. It was a steady thing, not a single tremble despite being covered in scratches and scuffs. They were healing beautifully, as if she had not actually had a challenging fight in ages. The only thing that would hint that she had recently seen battle or spar was the long groove running up her forearm.

Taking the other’s servo, Arcee was pulled from the bed onto her pedes then guided through the halls. They walked silently for the most part, the only sounds coming from the other bots running around the hallway. There were only a few that she could name: Springer, Jazz, Moonracer, Cliffjumper, and Kup. They all wore the Autobot insignia somewhere on their frames and whenever she would pass a group, they'd get quieter and optics went wide.

Finally, they made it to another set of doors. These ones not as clearly labeled. Elita pressed her palm to an electronic panel, causing the doors to slide open and reveal the inside of the room. It was round, with arched windows set into tall walls. The floor was tiled in a checkered pattern of black and blue–and on closer inspection, the blue tiles had flecks of gold. The center of the room was lower than the rest, and it gave Arcee the distinct impression of an operating theater with the stairs and rows of seats. There was a railing to stop any on-lookingers from falling down into the middle, made of ornate yet old metal. In the pit, there was a large telescope. Her optics followed it to the ceiling. It was domed and made almost completely of glass–or possibly acrylic. Most importantly, past the clear panelling was Cybertron. Their beautiful home turned war-ground.

Elita-1 found a seat on a bench flush against the wall. “Come sit with me. I have much to tell you.”

Arcee complied, servos in her lap. “What happened? Why are we here?”

“We lost the war. Megatron rules Cybertron with her Decepticons.”

“What?”

“Don't make me repeat myself.” Elita looked up to the beautiful sky, almost in longing. “We had made our last stand at the Temple of Primus. We had gotten word that it would just be Megatron and several of her closest warriors. We hadn't even realized that Starscream wasn't there. We didn't realize until there was a sea of warships. Optimus was trying–” She closes her optics, “–He was trying to get us to fall back. He turned his back strut and Megatron took her chance. He entrusted me with the Matrix until we find the next Prime.”

Arcee let out a choked noise. Oh Primus. Scrap. Scrap. SCRAP! How long had it been? What were they going to do?

“You were offline for a very, very long time, Arcee. You have to understand.”

She must've spoken out loud. “How long?”

“Five hundred stellar cycles, give or take. But you're here now. We finally had the resources to bring you back.” She reached for Arcee, EM field finally unfurling to reveal the sea of emotions she was feeling. Guilt, just so, so much guilt. Sorrow. Grief.

Liquids leaked from Arcee’s optics, servos clenched in her lap as she choked on her own emotions. She found herself sitting on the ground, helm pressed between her poleyns and servos against her faceplate. Five hundred stellar cycles. Five hundred. This had to just be a terrible dream. No, no, it was real. Almost everyone she had loved and had loved her would surely be dead. Circulating air through her vents was getting hard. What the frag was she going to do? Were they just going to live on the moon base until the end of time? Surely, the Decepticons would come looking and they'd have to run. Where would they go? She stuck the side of her servo into her mouth and bit down as hard as she could. She didn't even stop when she tasted Energon and blood.

Elita-1 stood up, reaching yet hesitating. “I'm going to get Ratchet, stay right here.” She'd never been good at these types of things.

‘Don't please me. Don't leave. Don't leave. Please. Please. I'm tired of being alone.’ She didn't allow herself to say it–just continued biting as tears ran down her faceplate.

The coldness of the observatory nipped at her metal and she could help but sob harder. They had lost the war. Surely, everything else was lost too. What had happened to Ultra Magnus? Why couldn't she remember? ‘Remember. Remember. Remember,’ she begged herself. Her processor couldn't pull anything up before seven hundred stellar cycles.

The doors slid open once more, though Arcee just stared at a single blue tile in the distance. A heavier frame sat on the floor beside her, setting down a bag or container of some sort.

“Arcee, give me your servo.”

She didn't comply this time. Instead, she focused on that tile. It was dark just like all the other ones, speckled with gold–even at the edges. ‘Ultra Mag–’ She shoved the name deep in her spark, trying to keep it down but it just bubbled back up. She choked one more time.

“I can only help you if you give me your servo.”

She released the side of her servo from her clamped denta. He held it tenderly in his, murmuring softly to himself before stating, “Oh, it's just superficial. It'll heal nicely and you'll be able to use it in no time. You still haven't stopped biting yourself. Some things really don't change. ” He turned his body, grabbing something from his medic bag. Metal mesh, cutters and a small medical lighter.

He worked quickly with nimble servos. Arcee focused on him, how he cut the mesh and applied it to her servo. She hadn't even realized the tears had stopped as she rested the side of her helm against her poleyns. Ratchet heated the mesh in increments and it stuck to her metal.

“I swear I'm typically stronger than this.”

“I know. You've had some hard cycles.” He placed her servo back down–putting the supplies up–and with his gruff voice he offered, “How ‘bout we get you a room? I'm sure Elita and Jazz will excuse you from roll call in the morning so get some rest.” He stood up, swaying on his pedes and gripping the bench for support. He grabbed his medical bag, tossing the strap over his shoulder.

Arcee pushed herself up with the bench, balance off and swaying. Still, for the third time that cycle, she followed someone down the hallways of the moon base. Tiredness weighed down on her plating and wiring. They did eventually manage to get an open apartment. This one was close to the medbay, on the same blue hallway. The door slid open with a simple press of a button, revealing the room that she would be staying in.

“I'll just be down the hall if you need anything.” And with that, he disappeared and the door closed. Arcee flicked on the lights, taking it all in. Everything was plain. There was a berth against the left wall–similar in size to the medical slab. While the slab was mostly dense rubber atop of a metal base, this was a thick layer of foam wrapped in a two inch thick rubber. It sat atop of a metal base too, though this one was attached to the floor with storage compartments. The right wall was primarily just storage compartments in various sizes, while the wall across the door had three large–and reinforced–windows

Next to the berth was another light switch; she smiled at that. Letting herself fall on top of it, she smiled at its surprising warmth. She reached over to the lightswitch and hit it. She let the darkness encapsulate her as if it was her protoform shell.

Light filtered in through the windows of her room, covering it in a warm glow. The pale green sky greeted her. She pushed herself up from the berth, looking down at her red arm. How could she have possibly lost it? What had happened? She turned herself so that she now faced all the empty storage containers.

Her pedes touched the ground, her spinal strut compressing as she looked out. Beautiful, everything was beautiful. Cybertron was known to be rather barren besides the crystal forest and the blue reeds, its moons on the other hand were full of lush plant life that allowed for cover. Even from Cybertron, they appeared green in hue. From her room, she couldn't see her home, but she could still picture its streets and burned into her processor were the faceplates of all those she used to teach.

Finally standing up, Arcee moved through her room with ease, making it to the door. Springer was behind it, standing as tall as ever. He looked the same as the day she could last remember him. No, he wasn't the same. He was covered in scratches and he had a mesh covering right above his abdomen; it was already merging in with the rest of his frame. He seemed so much more mature. Now, that sent a chill through her wires.

“I didn't get a chance to speak to you yesterday.” He shifted his weight to his other pede.

“Between waking up after five hundred stellar cycles and learning about the Decepticons. I think I had a rather busy day.”

He cracked a smile. “How’s the new arm? ‘Bothering you any?”

“No, it's fine. I'm not sure if I'll ever get used to it. My question is what happened to you.” Her optics flickered to the mesh fusing into him once more.

“Oh! That… yeah, turns out a lot of the others don't mess around when it comes to sparing. Don't pull your punches around here. You'll get the scrap beat out of you.” He leaned against the door frame, a hand on his hip. “I missed you.”

Arcee nodded, taking in how he smelled like plants. “I missed you too, Springer, but what are you doing here?

“Is it wrong that I just want to see one of my best friends after not seeing her for so long? But, in reality, Elita told me to show you around. We don't need you getting lost. I'll introduce you to anyone you don't know, try to smooth things out.”

He was doing her a favor, really, yet she couldn't help but feel bitterness pump through her hollow tubing. Would this be her life till the end of time? Would they treat her like a young sparkling? The idea nearly made her nauseated. No, it in fact did make her nauseated.

“Tell Elita that I'm not ready yet. I just woke up anyway.”

His face twisted–his EM field snapped closer– before melting back to something happier. “Okay, that's fine. Maybe later today then?”

“Sure, Springer. You can come get me near the end of the day. I'll probably be more prepared by then.” She gripped the door frame. “I'll talk to you later.” Taking a step back, she clicked the panel and the door slid shut. Her frame moved without her will and simply found a star-warmed spot on the ground and laid there.

Like some strange life form, Arcee soaked up the light. It was either this, or go back to biting. She spread out her digits, servos on either side of her body. Her left knee was bent and sticking up like a mountain. Part of her could still imagine the feelings of working in the factory, spending hours simply putting parts together. She could still imagine the feeling of picking up a blaster, the weight of it, the feeling of the trigger. Laying on the floor seemed like an excellent way to spend her day, though she knew it wouldn't last forever.

She turned onto her side, huffing. She traced over the grooves of the metal base of her berth, thinking of patterns. It felt cool against the tips of her digits, almost like some. Her apartment back on Cybertron had always been cold, the only room that had been warmed by Cybertron's star was the nursery–where she watched sparklings whenever she could. ‘Omega Supreme,’ her processor whispered but gave no images to. Surely, she could ask someone and they might've known who that was and what it had to do with her, but that would mean getting on the floor; Arcee did not want to get off the floor. If she had seen someone else lay on the floor like this seven stellar cycles ago, she might've judged them. Oh, how things changed.

The floor itself was warm, made of metal instead of concrete and held its heat quite well. Surely, the spot where she had laid would be much warmer after she had left, absorbing the lost heat from her components.

She watched as the star rose from the west, and as the sky turned into a much darker teal. Clouds darkened it, no doubt soon to rain. Rain had always been rare on Cybertron, maybe that's the reason why nothing could grow. Well, that and the Rust Sea. Her warmth was taken from her. Pity. Almost as soon as she was going to get back up and crawl back onto her berth, there was a knock at her door.

Groaning in frustration, she climbed back up and slugged her way to opening it back up. Instead of Elita, Springer or even Ratchet, it was a familiar red bot behind it. He flashed her a sheepish smile that traveled all the way up to his optics with a small wave. From the light of her room, his golden jewelry–his olfactory sensor ring and horn adornmentd–glittered. When he opened his optics, he always opened his mouth, but she spoke faster.

“Your faceplate… it's so scarred now.” The scratch below his left optic had always been there, ever since she'd known him; the star shaped scar that started below his right optic and went halfway through his neck was new. So was the one on his olfactory sensor and chin

“That tends to happen in war, Arcee. Though, I think you've got me beat. I haven't needed a limb replacement before.” He motioned to the arm. “Hey, we kinda match. Isn't that nice. Maybe I should get mine colored pink.”

Arcee let a scoff escape her. “Oh really? I think the day the twelve primes start walking again is the day that you're gonna go pink.” She rested one of her servos on her hip, finally noticing the box in his hand.

Now, it was his turn to interrupt. “I thought you might want a lazy morning so I brought the game to you. We used to have fun playing Lusio together, remember?”

“Vaguely.”

“Just vaguely?” His smile dropped, grip tightening on the box just a little bit more.

“Just vaguely, Cliff. You can't expect me to be at one hundred percent.” She bit the inside of her cheek.

He took a step back, apologizing look plastered on his dark faceplate. “I know. I know… I just missed you. Let me in?”

She stepped to the side and he passed her, closing the door behind him. He stopped, pointing out, “No table yet? Yeesh. We have got to find you some furniture.” Arcee rolled her optics, pointing to the spot on the floor she had just laid at.

“I hope you're not scared of sitting on the floor.”

“Who do you think I am?”

He found a nice spot, dumping out all one hundred twenty four pieces and began setting it up. Each player getting ten face up pieces and seven face down ones. Arcee sat in front of him, the rain starting almost immediately afterwards. She looked at all of her pieces, arranging her face-up ones. He did the same, servos moving in such a sure way. Could she ever get to that point? Could she catch up?

“ ‘You good?”

“No… but I will be.” She looked towards the window once more, to the water sliding down the glass. “I never thought that rain could be so beautiful.”

His red helm turned with hers.“Huh. You're right. I guess that's something you get used to after a while.” He looked back, placing down one of the diamond shaped pieces. “Your move.”

She grinned, using her new servo to place down a red piece. The gentle tapping on the window soothed her burning spark. Her frame and plating relaxer into the moment, simply playing a game with her friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Designs

It had been a relatively quiet day in the Autobot base for you. Jack, Miko, and Raph were at school taking their final exams, and the autobots were out on an extensive energon scouting mission somewhere in the rural wilderness of Serbia. You would’ve found a trip to Europe to be a fun outing, but couldn’t bear the thought of leaving your favorite medic alone. As you returned from a brief walk around the halls of the base, a loud *clang* followed by a frustrated and exasperated shout could be heard from the main room. He sounds actually pissed off, you thought to yourself before briskly making your way to the main room. You turned to see Ratchet picking up various shattered metal pieces from the floor, all the while muttering incoherent profanities and curses. 

“Ratchet? Is everything okay?” you asked softly, although the concern was easy to glean from your tone. The medic was clearly surprised by your sudden appearance and seemed a bit startled as his blue optics locked onto you. “Oh, (Y/N)... E-everything is fine. I just… was clumsy and dropped the device I was trying to adjust. I um, I’m sorry if I may have startled you.” In fact, everything was indeed not fine with Ratchet, as that morning his thoughts had gotten away from him and locked onto you, and not in the way he usually enjoys.

I can’t upset (Y/N) with my frivolous doubts. Albeit it will be difficult as her mental prowess is always… rather intuitive, the aging medic tried to silence his thoughts and re-focused on (Y/N). Ratchet cleared his throat as he noticed you had already conjured up a broom, “No need for that, I shall clean up my own mess.” You paused at the increasingly odd behavior of the normally composed medic, and you began to grow suspicious of why he seemed to be hiding something from you. 

You two had been close for some time, albeit when you first met the resident Autobot medic it wasn’t a great first meeting. With Ratchet insisting the base was getting far too crowded. You quickly won him over though. Unlike the kids, you were far more mature and patient, and you didn’t actively break his tools or go off placing yourself in unnecessary danger, like a certain someone with pink puffball hair… Another admirable quality you possessed was your sharp mind, and your ability to quickly grasp new concepts and actually be interested in things like science.

The first time Ratchet really noticed you was when he was struggling to decipher an unfamiliar set of code which had come into their possession regarding imperative intel. Despite applying the standard techniques to decipher the code, there was some sort of new trick that had been embedded in the code. As (Y/N) had watched the medic continuously failed to succeed, you had been watching closely, and had noticed the answer didn’t lie in breaking the code through conventional means, rather through a visual pattern. Your sharp eye and wit had spotted a pattern of certain colors and symbols, and after explaining this to Ratchet, the two of you were able to team up and crack the code. 

“Ratchet… What’s actually going on? You seem upset at more than accidentally breaking something. You know you can tell me anything, right?” You looked up at him, hoping the medic would let you help him. Primus, she’s onto me, Ratchet quickly finished picking up the broken mess on the floor, before turning towards (Y/N). “I appreciate your concern for me, I do, but I insist it was just a fleeting moment of frustration. Nothing more.” Before you could open your mouth to say anything else, the comms system flashed and Optimus Prime’s voice sounded over the audio “Ratchet, we require your presence immediately. We are taking Decepticon-fire and Arcee is down!”

His azure optics widened in surprise before turning to you. “I’ll man the groundbridge. …Be careful, otherwise I may throw a wrench at you” you had an ever-so-slight smile on your face, but your heart was still heavy as no one could ever foresee when things would go wrong. “I promise to return unharmed” Ratchet said softly, hoping that you wouldn’t fret too much over him, before powering up the groundbridge and speeding through in his alt-mode. 

As Ratchet sped through the swirling vortex of green and blue energy, his thoughts from earlier resurfaced. He had been replaying the moment you had first met, the first time you had touched servos/hands, the moments where he would place you on his shoulder as you both reviewed data and worked on projects.

The memory that was the source of his inner turmoil was the first time you kissed. You had shifted your weight on his shoulder and just planted one right on his lips. He could remember the rush of heat to his entire frame, something he had not experienced since his youth back on Cybertron, and that was a very long time ago. It wasn’t long after that you two had been intimate with one another, albeit it took a lot of learning on his part since you were both an organic and far smaller than him. The size difference didn’t bother him much, as he was very VERY creative. You were so vigorous, energetic, passionate, and youthful…. And youth had long since surpassed Ratchet.

 He should be above silly things such as anxiety or doubt, but now he felt all of his confidence melt away as the thought of such a stunning and lively being as yourself, being held back by an old rust bucket with one pede in the well of Allsparks. The very idea of him disappointing you felt equivalent to losing a patient. Spark-crushing. Perhaps it was wrong of him to think some old bot like him could ever give you what you truly deserved from a partner. …*PEW PEW* The resounding ringing of blaster fire pulled the medic out of his anxious self-pitying stupor, and into a battlefield before him.

Ratchet had only just exited the groundbridge, but he could already make out his fellow Autobots as they duked it out with various Decepticons and Vehicons. He had to focus, as he was here as a medic not a sniveling idiot. As his optics scanned the field for the injured Arcee, he saw the femme leaning against a large boulder, pinned down as she took cover from Vehicon blaster-fire. 

His white and scarlet armor glinted in the light of the sun, as he quickly made his way through the battlefield, being trailed by Optimus and Bumblebee as they provided coverfire. Ratchet was able to make it to Arcee, quickly scanning her to assess her injuries. “I’m fine, Doc. Just a few scratches that’s all,” the two-wheeler calmly stated. “Ep-ep! I’m the medic and I will be the one to diagnose y–” Ratchet was interrupted by the sound of crackling electricity from behind. “Nice of you to join the party, Ratchet!” Ugh, not Knockout of all bots… Ratchet thought, as he saw the ever-polished and buffed Decepticon standing a short distance from him. “Knockout, I am in no mood to deal with your incessant posturing…” Ratchet drew his blasters as he glared at Knockout. “Well they do say bots get crankier as they age, huh? Perhaps you’re better suited as a doorstop at your age?” the Decepticon medic cackled. 

Ratchet felt his energon boil and before anyone could realize, he charged at Knockout, optics wide with fury, “You’ll look like a doorstop once I’m through with you!!!” Knockout was taken aback by the sudden vigor and frenzied rage from the Autobot medic, genuinely shocked as to what had gotten into him. “PRIMUS I didn’t know you could move that fast!” Knockout ordered the surrounding Vehicons to begin firing at Ratchet, but was interrupted by opposing fire from Optimus, Bulkhead, and Bumblebee. Before Ratchet could reach him, Knockout quickly transformed and retreated along with the remaining Vehicons. 

Ratchet had no choice but to stop his charge, but his rage was not so easily quelled. He was boiling over with anger, HOW DARE HE INSULT ME LIKE THAT? HOW DARE HE ASSUME– Ratchet’s angry thoughts were cut short by the sensation of a large servo on his shoulder, and Optimus’s voice. “Old friend, what has gotten into you? Why would you abandon your patient and charge after Knockout?” Prime’s face was full of concern for his long-time friend and confidant as this was out of character. The medic’s rage began to subside, as he realized what a fool he had made of himself. “M-my apologies Optimus, I don’t know what came over me.” Ratchet immediately went back over to Arcee and helped her onto her pedes, ashamed at his actions. 

Back at base, (Y/N) powered up the groundbridge after receiving the call from Optimus. You were still worried about Ratchet, as you had been struggling to think of what on earth he was so upset about. As the portal opened, the Autobots began to make their way through, including Ratchet who was assisting an annoyed Arcee into the base.

As you began to acknowledge everyone’s return, Bulkhead suddenly approached Ratchet, “What the scrap was that about?!” Ratchet’s optics briefly darted towards the wrecker, but as in usual fashion, the medic turned away and scoffed at the question, “Think nothing of it. Just stress from being engaged in combat.” Despite being assisted by Ratchet, Arcee piped in with her concerns “Bulkhead has a point, Ratchet. You lost it at whatever Knockout said to you. What gives?”

Growing increasingly frustrated with the sudden interrogation, Ratchet snaps his helm around “I’ve already told you that it was inconsequential. Now let me proceed with scanning you for injuries and move on!” The tension in the room could’ve been cut with a knife as the rest of the group falls silent, and no one presses the matter further. Standing at the controls, you were taken aback by Ratchet’s behavior, as this was severely out of character for your normally patient, if a bit sassy-medic. But you remained silent as you watched Arcee begrudgingly allow Ratchet to assess her. 

It wasn’t long before Arcee returned to the main area of the base, being cleared of any injuries by Ratchet, but you noticied that he had yet to reappear. Normally the only other area on base you could find Ratchet would be in one of the back storerooms which usually housed various supplies. You quietly made your way through the halls, the faint sound of something falling making you hone in on one particular room. The motion-sensors on the door allowed you entry into the storeroom, and you quickly spotted Ratchet with his back turned against one of the shelves. It felt as if you were walking on glass as you approached him, “...Ratchet? You’re really starting to worry me. Can you please, please… tell me what is wrong?” 

“...I’m sorry, (Y/N) for worrying you. That is the last thing I would want to do to you” Ratchet replied, but his back remained turned away from you. You approached him and closed the door behind you. Stepping closer, you wrapped your arms around his heel in a hug, hoping your touch would comfort him “I know. But Ratchet…. You are hurting yourself by holding in.. whatever it is that’s making you act this way. We’ve been through too much for you to shut yourself off from me.” A heavy sigh escaped from the medic’s vents and he shifted his frame to look at you.

As you briefly stepped back, he knelt down to move his faceplate closer to your level, “You deserve to know of course… You deserve better. …Perhaps if I was in a different field of medical training, I would be better suited to explain myself, so I shall try my best.” He took a deep breath, clearly struggling “I’ve been concerned that I may not be the mech best suited for you.” 

You stood before him frozen as you struggle to process his words, “...Come again?” Ratchet felt as if someone were twisting a blade in his gut, but continued, “I meant that you deserve the best. You are so kind and full of life and vigor, and I am perhaps too old to provide you with what a younger mech could.” He can’t bear to meet your gaze any longer, and turns his face away from you in shame. He is shocked to feel a brief sting on his helm, looking back to see you holding a small wrench in your hands. “Hopefully that will knock some sense back into you” your eyes were welling-up with tears as you dropped the wrench.

“You really think your age would change how I feel for you? You think I would care what anyone, bot or con or human has to say about it?” You approach Ratchet and gently place your hands on his cheeks, staring deeply into his optics, “Ratchet, you are the only man for me. So what if you’re mature and full of experience? You’re my one and only and don’t ever think otherwise.” You lean in and plant a deep and sweet kiss against his cool lips. 

It felt like time stood still as he looked at your beautiful face. Your warm lips were like fireworks as you pressed them to his, How can she be this perfect? How do I deserve her? Ratchet’s mind swirled as you pulled away from him, feeling a gentle brush as he swiped a tear from your eye with a servo, “(Y/N), please forgive me for putting you through such torment. I… I was insecure about many things. I still wonder if I am truly capable of fulfilling all of your needs.”

You stepped forward and kissed him again, albeit with a little more heat. You raised an eyebrow as you pulled away, a devilish grin playing on your lips, “You have always fulfilled my every need. You could always test how well you’re able to please me…?” The look in your eyes and tone in your voice was easy for the medic to decipher. He felt his frame heat up and his engine rev, “...I suppose I can run a few… tests to see the results.” He gave you a half-cocked smirk before gently scooping you into his servo and setting you on one of the upper shelves, before showering your neck and collarbone in sensual kisses.