Hello Fanfiction, it's your boi, Giga. I know I've been gone for a very long time, nearly four years! I had lost my motivation to write my stories. But I'm back and better than ever. The gigadigger is hanging up his pencil, and the renegade is taking a turn at the wheel. I will begin by rewriting each of my stories. No I am not retconning, I'm remastering. It's time for me to make my entrance.

The NEST recruit.

I'm the new guy around here. It's nothing that Im already used to, I move around a lot. But if im to tell you my story I need to rewind. I had a normal life, a loving family, and anything a kid could ask for. But then the attack on Chicago occurred. For a whole day my eyes stung from the smoke in the air. My ears, ringing from the sounds of war. My family, and their final moments, burned into my memories. My mom was a teacher, had been for years. My dad was a factory worker, but he was a blacksmith for a hobby. I think back even today about all those times he tried to teach me the craft. I used to think they were boring, but now, I would give anything for a chance to listen to him explain the different kinds of cooling. I loved my family, and they were gone in seconds. Slaughtered in a war that they weren't a part of. For a few days I was dead to the world. But then NEST found me. I don't know what they saw in me, but they saw a fighter. They found me in my old man's shop, finally putting those lessons to work. After a few days of wandering the former warzone, I found him, or it, or… whatever I should call the decepticons. The one that crashed into my house. The one that took everything from me. I wished I could've killed him myself. They were two problems with that plan though. For starters, I was 12. I don't see very many angsty pre-teens taking down giant alien robots. Secondly, he was already dead. But a piece of his body had been torn from the rest of it. Luckily my dad had been trying to teach me to drive stick, so I hitched the arm to a truck and towed it to his shop. I wont lie, I hope the owner of that truck had good insurance… ya know, if he was alive.

They asked me why I cared so much about being recruited. They said that this didn't have to be my fight. My reply was always the same. They took my family from me. They made it my problem.

Everyone caught up? Good! Now I can begin the story of my death.

This happened a two years ago. I had finally made it to the rank of field agent. And with that promotion came the perk of a level playing field. This meant I would be working with the big guns, the autobots themselves. I had never met my partners, but I had heard about them. The first when by the name Strike, but for some reason he had adopted the human name James. He had been described to me as a green blur, and that's about it. I guess he's really fast. I heard he had once impaled a decepticon with his own head, and it had been done so fast that his spark hadn't gone out yet. Yeah, definitely looking forward to that guy.

The second one was named Akhita, but she chose a human name as well: Sally. I was told she was a deep blue that made the sky jealous. I think the guy that told me that was a little too into her. I didn't understand they're fondness of human names, but I wasn't one to judge them either; especially considering today was my first day of training with them, and I overslept, and the training hall was on the other side of the facility from my dorm. Lots of curse words were mentioned that day. If NEST had a swear jar I would've overflowed it.

I barely made it just in time. I was strapping my sheath to my back right as the clock struck nine. I'm guessing they had been early and were waiting on me, because they had both sat down. That meant, unfortunately, that they were taking up more than half of the room, and I had to squeeze in through a semi cracked door. James stood up after I came in , deciding now was the right time, and not when I was trying to get inside. If autobots can scowl, he was definitely scowling at me. He irritably said, " It's about time Harrison, weve been waiting for a few hours now. Can't you tell time?" before moving over to allow Sally to stand. She rolled her eyes at our partner's salty behavior. I was liking her already. She replied to James before I could, saying, "James, weve been here for twenty minutes, so technically hes on time, we were just early."

"Uh, okay. So how do you expect us to train in here? No offense, but how will you two run around?" I asked, trying to change the subject away from punctuality. I always found I was better at fighting than at talking. Is that weird? James chuckled at my question. I had a feeling I wasn't gonna like any situation that involved this particular cybertronian chuckling. He then responding to my question, saying "Well, we wont be moving much. This exercise is for sally and I to get a good scope on your skills. So, don't get hit, 'kay?"

"What do you mean, don't get hi-". My question was cut off by James brandishing his weapon, or at least, one of them. Most Autobots had one signature weapon, but James had several. NEST currently had a bet going around as to how many weapons he has. My bet is seven. In this particular instance he had pulled out something that resembled a rifle. Now kids, don't try this next part at home.

The selection of the training location made more sense as hidden compartments opened all over the small gymnasium. This gym doubled as the urban obstacle training grounds. I just called it the parkour room. I immediately took cover behind a street divider as he opened fire. I took a moment to collect myself. I once heard that autobots picked their partners, but I didn't think it was this literal. This wasn't training, it was try outs. And the stakes were killer.