Prologue – The Mausoleum

"Keep his head steady," a voice, reduced to nothing but a whisper, drifted through the barren halls. Several figures, barely outlined in the dim light, moved stealthily through the maze of metallic rooms and passageways, each of them carrying a mass much larger than their own.
Leading the group was a red and orange robotic being, decorated in flames and the bright glow of his pale blue optics. Rodimus Prime set the pace for the other robots transporting the body, doing his best to keep the others focused on their mission. The Autobot leader eyed the smaller troops next to him. Slowly, he shifted his gaze to the metal body they were supporting.

Red chest paneling complemented deep blue arms, legs, and spiked helm, centered on dark optics. Optics that were blacker than the darkness of space around the almost foreign entities. Everything on the body had greyed and faded, reducing the metallic frame to nothing more than a pile of scrap metal to the ever-curious eyes of outsiders. But to the Autobots, this body represented much more than scarp metal ever would.

Though it might have sounded crazy at the time, Rodimus' idea of bringing back Optimus Prime was truly noble and brilliant. Thanks to a "discovery" he had made, the Autobots were now in possession of a powerful energy source that had the potential to restore the older Prime's life force. No one knew how the current leader had gotten it; let alone how he had figured out the complexity of the energy. But for them, this achievement was milestones beyond any Cybertronian's intelligence.

In his hand, Rodimus clutched a stony blue substance, the unknown energy, and the proposed source of Optimus Prime's new life. It was crystalline in structure, and from appearances alone it looked incredibly powerful and menacing. But Rodimus knew of a much darker tale.

There was no record of this stone in any Cybertronian database, but seeing its power firsthand was enough for Rodimus to know of its devastating power. Powerful enough to restore life, dangerous enough to destroy worlds, this stone was what he had dubbed as "Blue Energon." Though even with his persuasive speeches about it, he could never tell the others what it had done to him, or anyone else that the stone had come into contact with. The Energon had used its uncontrollable power to take him to a world much unlike his own, and had brought him back in a flash of light. The Blue Energon was recognized to be powerful, and if it fell in the wrong hands, it could spell out ultimate devastation.

Though Rodimus knew that the only force that could possibly threaten the Energon's safety were the Decepticons. But they were gone, trapped in the world the very substance had taken them to. Their leader, Galvatron, was locked in a world where he could not escape, which left the rest of the Decepticons without a leader, without a driving will to fight.

Slowly, Rodimus shifted his gaze back to the four troops carrying the lifeless shell that was once Optimus, the shuttle for their departure in sight of the Autobot Mausoleum's docking bay. If his plan worked, Optimus would lead once again, and Rodimus would no longer be burdened with the pains of leadership. The thought resonated with him underneath the smile that appeared on his faceplate as his team boarded the massive spaceship.

Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the Mausoleum, another creature stirred. Though no one would ever know she had been there. Her energy signature was undetectable by Cybertronian systems, which made her visible only by sight. Quietly, Cylinder moved through the seemingly endless tunnels, not letting a single sound echo through the wide, empty halls. She had to be quick, straightforward, and precise if she wanted to complete her mission with absolute flawlessness. The blue femme sprang to the rafters of the structure the moment she heard a sound, but kept going as soon as she was sure it was gone.

With a few quick strides, the young Aerialbot reached her destination. Yet her face remained neutral, despite the pride that welled in her Spark. A tall, metal archway stretched above her, a metal signed hanging from the top. Though it was written in a language far too advanced for her own kind, it had enough recognizable words that Cylinder could roughly translate it into saying: Battle of Autobot City.

A small smile spread across her face before disappearing just as quickly. Keeping her focus, Cylinder quickly moved through the winding labyrinth of an almost endless amount of graves. Many of which were recognizable to the blue and gold jet. But only a few of them did she care about.

All of these Autobots had been unjustly executed at the hands of the Decepticons. None of them deserved to die; yet here they were, sealed away in this drifting metal prison, never to be seen again. But for six of them, that was about to change.

The hall was set up in an order from highest ranking officers to lowest, the highest being the commanders and scientists, the lowest being the young mechs and femmes that had been mowed down at the front lines of the battle. Without a single glance around, Cylinder passed by the numerous locked-up caskets that lined the room, keeping an unchanging path as she walked straight for the back of the wing.

There was no point in bothering with the lesser-known graves of the fallen Autobots. Very few mattered at this point.

From her subspace, Cylinder drew a small object and grasped it firmly. Bought in a black market, Cylinder found that the small device acted as a miniature spacebridge, able to transport materials from one place to another.

Illegally.

Products like these were highly forbidden on Cybertron, but no one would ever know about it. Cylinder, being a master at stealth and secrecy, knew exactly where to hide it without being caught. The blue femme thought nothing of this crime as she stalked through the dark graves. As it was, her judgment had been blocked so long ago, that she had come to adopt the feeling as her own free will.

But deep down, she knew that it was not right. None of this was right. The true Cylinder, the one other Autobots used to know so well, had been murdered by an unknown entity and took her body as its own. It kept her true spirit hidden, concealed by its power. Often she would try to fight it, but it would always put her down in the end.

The Voice had become too powerful. Yet the only thing keeping it from total control was the ever-patient presence of another entity, another voice that did what it could to keep the remainder of the old Cylinder there. And Cylinder owed him for every minute of it.

Absentmindedly, the silent Aerialbot regarded the object before turning it on. With a few quick taps of her finger digits, the coordinates for her destination were locked in, and the machine fully charged to life. Before her, a large portal opened, and the image of an old and dusty lab soon appeared afterwards.

Before Rodimus' ship could even depart, the portal had closed, and four bodies were now missing from the Battle of Autobot City Wing.