Author notes: This thing grew a plot despite my intentions. I apologize in advance.

I'm also rather surprised I didn't get a single flame review. A torture fic from a ten-year-old series? Seriously, nothing? I wanted to frame them on my wall.. =D

I have no idea where this is heading. My subconscious likes to plan things and not tell me until multiple chapters in.

Disclaimer: AHAHAHAHA. No.

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Time feels like a midnight ride,

Finality waits outside

Weeping in perplexity's arms

Caressing our smiles inside

-- "Thetawaves", System of a Down

Mal Vu: Part Two

A groan echoed faintly around the antechamber, a caged figure stirring after hours of inactivity. Spots swirled in the air, a dancing visage of speckled lights, briefly hypnotizing the waking form.

Waking from forced unconsciousness yet again; he was starting to get used to this.

Jade optics onlined slowly, flickering for a moment in an effort to convince the spots to dance away, before actually looking to the world around him. Silverbolt was completely and utterly unsurprised -- although greatly dismayed -- to find himself back in the same cage he had woken in the last time. The same barred metal berth hanging above slowly flowing magma. The fuzor rubbed the back of his head, wincing slightly, before stopping at sudden realization.

The world wasn't broken. His left optic, the one that had cracked the last time he had been awake, was in one piece now. Taking stock of the rest of his body -- both by damage reports and by touch to confirm it -- he found most of himself repaired almost fully. His wings were still gone, but the mechanism that had moved them was now intact. His talon, as well, was still missing, but the leg it had been attached to was less wounded than it previously had been.

Why?

More than slightly worried about suddenly being in good health, Silverbolt looked around rapidly; so fast, in fact, that he was forced to do a double take when he noticed one of the other cages was full.

The body in the cage next to his own was lying face-down and unmoving. Operational, he assumed, or the body wouldn't be in a cage. Straining to see exactly who it was and fearing the worst, his fluid pump actually stopped when he noticed a large spider leg hanging out from between the bars.

Said pump started beating again when he noticed the leg was purple and not black; Tarantulas.

With a sigh and a deep frown, Silverbolt looked around the prison chamber. He hadn't had the chance to really see the area the last time he had been awake, but found very little had changed. The piles of scraps and Quickstrike's corpse were still exactly where they had been before. His wings were in a rather gruesome pile against the wall, close to a large circle of his own mech fluid. A deep shiver ran down his spine, and he looked away.

After finding very little useful visually, the fuzor started to test the bars of his cell. He didn't expect much, but it simply couldn't hurt to check. He grabbed every one, trying to twist or break them free. Half the bars were tested and proven useless when a sudden groan caused him to stop.

Silverbolt turned quickly to look at the other filled cage; Tarantulas was waking up.

The spider woke up slowly, rolling on his back as optics flickering in much the same way his own had earlier. The Predacon scientist looked at the top of the cage, looked at him, looked around, and then let out another groan before letting the back of his head fall with a soft 'thud'. "Slag."

Silverbolt couldn't help the slight smirk; he knew exactly how that spider was feeling.

Tarantulas inclined his head ever so slightly to look at the canine. "Please tell me you're not the last Maximal alive."

Silverbolt blinked in surprise, frowning. "I sincerely hope that I'm not."

"I'll take that as a yes." Tarantulas laughed nervously. The chuckling stopped abruptly, mid-sound. "Are we in the Pit?"

The fuzor blinked again, optic ridges rising ever so slightly; he worried, briefly, if the spider had fallen in to complete lunacy. "I.. Don't believe we are."

"Oh." Tarantulas let his head fall back again. "Then we really are slagged." He started to laugh once again.

Silverbolt edged to the far side of his cage, as far away from the transmetal spider as possible, disturbed by the mad giggling.

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When the transmission had ended, a tense silence reigned aboard the Axalon. Shock, coupled with various degrees of horror and fury, robbed the collection of Maximals out of sound. Even Blackarachnia, the only one who's rage exceeded all other emotions when the screams had started, now sputtered in absolute and thorough anger, glaring at the comm controls. A single pincer clung to the panel, grip so tight that it dented the metal inward.

"So.." A shocked Rattrap somehow managed to find his vocal chords -- still sitting by the main console -- and slowly looked up towards his captain. "..What do we do now?"

"We're going in, right, big bot?" A slightly shaky Cheetor piped up first, transmetal optics wide.

Optimus Primal frowned deeply, horrified by the situation and hating what his own logic circuits were telling him. "It's a trap. Rampage is trying to lure us there." That much was obvious.

"So, what?!" Blackarachnia, shaking from complete and barely restrained fury quickly turned to glare at Primal. "Are you suggesting we leave him there?!"

"What I'm suggesting, Blackarachnia, is we find out exactly where in the Predacon base he actually is before mounting a rescue. We aren't even positive that that's where he is."

Blackarachnia gaped at Primal, fierce anger clear in her expression. "Wha --"

"He's right." Rhinox interrupted, wincing a little as he said it; they had all heard the horrifying screams, and his expression betrayed just how shaken he was despite attempts otherwise. "If we run in the way we are now, that.. thing will kill us all. We won't be any help to him if we're all dead."

"I don't like this any more than any of you do.." Primal held his hands up in a placative gesture. "By the Matrix, I don't want to leave him in there, but we can't run in blindly and hope for the best. We need to have a plan." He took in a deep breath. "Rattrap, put Sentinel in full alert. Shields as high as they'll go."

Blackarachnia glared at Primal, visibly shaking. Her pincers let out a soft clicking sound as furious tremors went through her; after several short cycles, she stalked out of the control room, swearing under her breath.

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"Hehehehehe.." Tarantulas had been giggling for at least a breem, now. He would occasionally stop for several seconds, only to start up again in seemingly random spouts of hilarity. Or possibly insanity. Really, it didn't matter which.

Silverbolt had quickly grown quite annoyed with the laughter, sitting on the far side of his cell and covering his audio receptors as much as he could. It didn't keep out sound completely -- only muffled the noise --, and he sorely wished the spider would shut up.

A loud, familiar creak caused the spider in question to stop laughing mid-breath. Silverbolt looked up sharply as well, recalling the sound as a door or hinge opening down the hall. Rampage had either come in or out every time that noise went off, and the fuzor found himself freezing in anticipation.

A short cycle later, and the transmetal crab calmly walked in. He spared neither of his captives so much as a glance; instead, he carefully dug through the pile of scrap metal and body parts. Both the encaged Maximal and Predacon cringed slightly as Quickstrike's corpse was torn apart further and parts taken.

With a small armful of shrapnel and wires in his arms, Rampage started to walk out again, heading in the other direction. He stopped mid-stride as he passed Silverbolt's torn wings; he seemed indecisive for a moment, staring at the feathered limbs. After a long cycle of thought, the crab walked up to the wings and collected them both.

Silverbolt choked slightly, feeling his entire frame stop; his wings! Those were his wings! He watched Rampage leave with his precious wings, nearly protesting aloud; once the crab was gone, he let out a soft moan, forehead thumping softly against the bars.

"..Hehe." Tarantulas suddenly laughed again, surprising the fuzor. "Looks like he's building something."

The ordinarily winged canine didn't answer, mourning his wings.

"Hey." It seemed, however, that the transmetal was now in the mood to chat. "Were you.. Repaired?"

Silverbolt turned his head slightly to glance at the spider. "Yes, although I don't know why."

Tarantulas seemed to think that over, looking over himself as he did so. He visibly became more and more agitated as he did so.

Silverbolt took in a deep breath; he had a feeling he would regret asking this later. "What is it?" The question was moaned.

Tarantulas looked at him, incredulous, the visor that served as his optics seemed to grow. "You aren't the least bit concerned over the fact that he tore us apart and then repaired us instead of killing us?"

The canine fuzor simply stared at Tarantulas. "What are you saying?"

"What am I --" The transmetal actually sputtered. "All the Predacons are dead. All of them. Even Megatron is gone." He paused for a moment. "He's keeping us alive, you idiot!"

"Why?" Silverbolt snarled slightly at the insult.

"How the slag should I know?!" Tarantulas flailed slightly.

Silverbolt had to admit that the concept of being kept alive by an insane psychopath that enjoyed torturing people was far worse than being killed by said psychopath. "If you know how to escape, I'm all ears."

Tarantulas actually drooped a little at that, shaking for a moment. Then, he started to test the bars in much the same way his fellow captive did a short time ago.

With a soft sigh, Silverbolt let his head fall against the bars again, praying for both the Maximals to stay safe in the Axalon and a rescue at the same time.

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The unsettled mind is at times an ally

Leaving the senses to fend for themselves

The senses collect undeniable data

About beta carotene and theta waves;

The unsettled mind is at times an ally

Leaving the senses to fend for themselves

Then, the senses wanted the sky

-- "Thetawaves", System of a Down