He felt like he was dragging himself from a long dream. With a groggy mind, he saw some images fade away until all that was left was a sense that whatever that dream had been about, it had been unpleasant and best left forgotten.
Yellow eyes peeled open and stared through the bubbling liquid and glass. A purple bot stood on the floor and watched him with one red eye pointed to where he floated. The clone felt cramped and small, but as the liquid drained past his horns, he knew that the purple bot was releasing him. Excitement coursed through him as his mind made some realizations despite not having language yet. He was alive, when he had been nothing before. This bot below him was his life-bringer and liberator. Then soon, he would get to stretch out and see more beyond the strange, grey shapes in the laboratory.
The tube lifted, and the Predacon tumbled out onto his feet. Once on the ground, the Predacon realized how much smaller the other bot was. He grew aware of his claws and teeth, but they were a dim realization pushed away by his love for his creator. Taking a step closer, the dark Predacon blinked at Shockwave, until the scientist raised a small energon cube to his face.
The glowing blue ignited an instinct within him. Curious, the Predacon nibbled the cube out of his hand and was immediately delighted by its sweetness. Only Shockwave knew how crucial these first minutes of the Predacon's life were that would change its course forever.
One: the Predacon loved him as its life-bringer and would obey him.
Two: the Predacon was now connected to bipeds and would not indiscriminately hunt them.
Three: It now had a preference for processed energon over blood and metal (although, Shockwave had found advantages in having blood-raised Predacons before. They were more viscous towards Autobots; however, they were likely to kill other Decepticons if left hungry. For a Predacon as large as this specimen, control took priority).
The Predacon had been confused by the swirling, green portal in front of them. After it had swallowed the energon, it nudged Shockwave for a bit more. Instead, the purple bot turned his back and lumbered toward the portal without a glance back. After he vanished through it, the Predacon was left trilling and wondering what had become of him.
Shockwave had known that he would have a few moments before the Predacon followed him. Sure enough, the newly born creature did not know what to do and already missed Shockwave. His sinuous body passed through the green after him, and his horned head was first through the portal. Then, his heavy feet and claws slammed down as he found sturdy ground. The Predacon was unaware of the cowering vehicons beside him as he felt sudden openness all around him. Energy pumped through him after his tail swung through last into this magnificent, new area.
The Predacon's wings flipped open and he spread them while rearing back on his hind legs. As he towered over the Decepticons, he roared in delight, not aware yet of how it spooked the smaller bots. Then, he dropped on his feet and gave another screech, keeping his wings comfortably open in the space outside the lab.
There was a scrawny, twitchy bot that looked quite different than Shockwave, but seemed to be of the same body type. The Predacon thought body type instead of species, since he believed that he was like his creator but just different in shape. Choked words came from the bot he would later learn the name of. As he spoke, the Predacon felt something familiar about the words. His frame tingled until suddenly, the language snapped into clarity.
"A- a Predacon?" Starscream's eyes were huge, showing much black in his fear. "They- they've been extinct since the beginning of Cybertronian history…"
"Indeed," Shockwave responded, fearlessly approaching the tall beast. "But the specimen you see before you was bred in the laboratory. Cloned from fossilized remains, which I discovered on Cybertron."
He lay his hand over the Predacon's neck, who growled placidly.
"Shockwave." A spiky, silver bot rose from his throne and wandered down toward them. "It does my spark good to see you once again, tampering with creation."
"Master!" gasped the thin, grey bot. "Please, keep your distance…!"
"No need for alarm," Shockwave replied. "The beast is completely under my control."
Megatron stood before the Predacon, gazing at him with admiration as he lowered a head as broad as Megatron's chest. Whining and hissing gently, the Predacon looked at Megatron and wondered what his creator's connection was to this bot.
"Such primal magnificence," Megatron rasped, now calm in contrast to the still twitching Seeker behind him.
Shockwave gathered the Predacon's attention from Megatron, presenting him with a vile of blood. The Predacon turned to it, then narrowed his eyes in recognition. Instinct began to take over and numb his mind as he looked closer. There was a faint scent of metallic blood that made him growl and lust for something he was unsure of. Then, he scanned Wheeljack's blood without much thought, letting the desire to chase control his body.
"Let the hunt begin." Megatron grinned in sadistic anticipation.
The Predacon rocked, twitched, and sniffed, but looked away from the bipeds here. His creator and his silver companion wanted him to go after something, and his body decided that it really wanted to obey for some unknown benefit. Some of the Decepticon grew nervous, but Megatron and Shockwave watched with satisfaction as the Predacon leapt off the sides, soaring with massive wings to the horizon.
By the time he felt close to his target, night had fallen. The Predacon spotted two bots lying over rock and he swept upward for a better look at them. His mind fiddling with words now figured that his creator wanted him to harm these bots, so he prepared then fired a blast at them. These two bots rolled out of the way, and the Predacon slowly swept back around to have another go at them.
Gathering speed, he dove down and fired again, but the green bot popped into a strange shape and hurried away. Glancing away from him to keep his focus, the Predacon crashed into the ground before the white bot, the source of the energon signal.
Here he is, the Predacon thought, but hesitated while opening his mouth. What am I supposed to do with him now?
Wheeljack roared and blasted beams at his face. Surprised by the pressure and pain, the Predacon turned his head and shut his eyes. His tail swung around and struck the shooting bot, knocking him off his feet into a rock. Still confused about his mission, however, the Predacon moved after him slowly.
His spark had forgotten the ferocious life he had lived, and the Predacon did not realize that the Decepticons wanted him to kill and consume Wheeljack. Now that he had found Wheeljack, he had no thirst for his blood and did not truly realize what his teeth were for. As Wheeljack remained stunned, the Predacon curiously examined him while prowling closer.
Perhaps I am only meant to take him back?
Something fast and hard clouted the Predacon's face. The green bot from before shot past him, and the Predacon turned, rising up to breath fire upon him. Once he tumbled away, the Predacon sniffed and looked around, searching for Wheeljack.
Where has he gone?
"Looking for me, beast?" Wheeljack taunted. "I'm right here."
The Predacon stared back and hissed, then heard a beeping sound below him. Growling softly, he looked down. Fire exploded and heat wafted past his face, but his heat-resistant metal did not melt from the grenade blast. Now, the Predacon was thoroughly irritated at his target. It seemed a bit more clear to him that his creator did want this bot to be hurt.
However, there was too much ignorance in the Predacon that held him back. His ancestor would have already stabbed the bot through and been tearing out his guts. The clone wanted to smack and burn instead, for breaking into bodies felt, simply, wrong when Wheeljack was not very different from Shockwave.
When Wheeljack charged into the cave, the Predacon was pushed to give chase. He squeezed through rock and crystals of energon, shrieking and throwing himself into the mine of vehicons. The purple bots screamed in horror and sprinted with Wheeljack from the predator, until suddenly, Wheeljack transformed and drove under the Predacon's huge body.
There it had been again, that strange change. Whatever the bot had done, it was now ripping away to freedom.
Can they all do that? the Predacon thought as he tried to turn around in the cramped cave.
After the multiple explosions caused the cave to crash down upon him, the Predacon was less curious and more wrathful. Rocks crushed him and his sensitive wings, making it difficult to shift his limbs. Arching his back, he fought to raise the weight off him. Some rocks rolled away, and he realized that the surface was not far. In one great surge, he broke through, expanded his wings, and screeched.
He whipped his head sideways and glimpsed his target. Just after launching himself into flight, however, a powerful shot spun him away. The next thing the Predacon knew, a flying shape was dipping down toward the bots and scooping them up. He was not entirely sure if it was alive, but it was clearly trying to take his target away from him.
The Predacon raced after the spaceship, cutting through the clouds and trying to ambush it. At last, in the battle of blasts, he managed to strike its side and send it down smoking. The Predacon latched onto the ship and crawled around to the front, then spotted the bots clustered inside. So this machine was not alive, but carrying them to safety. Then, without warning, the ship dropped with such a speed that the Predacon had to cling tight.
Flipped sideways, the ship tried to slam him against a wall to dislodge him. He clung on grimly and roared, until the vessel flipped upside down entirely. The Predacon saw a rock coming for his face, screeched, then was cut off. At the strike, he went silent, tumbling and crashing against the cliff until he hit the ground under a pile of rubble.
It was over. His body ached from dents and stung from blasts, but he burst out and snarled with ire. The ship blasted away, and by now, the Predacon was beginning to lose his memory of Wheeljack's signal. He now set down his wings and tried to think.
I should go home, he decided, since the homing beacon remained as strong as before. He will tell me what to do next.
The Predacon flapped into the sky and headed toward Darkmount.
It was the burning questions he had that shaped the kind of Predacon he would be. Raised by the bipeds, fed on energon, and separated from Cybertronian animals- the clone was generally peaceful and occupied with thoughts about his relation to everyone else. One of the first things he wondered was what was he created for?.
The Predacon had not been successful yet despite his attempts, with those Autobots always escaping him. Shockwave and Megatron did not punish him and still welcomed him, but the clone sensed that they wanted more from him. The only one that seemed to be upset whether he failed or not was Starscream. While the Predacon established that Megatron was his creator's master and demanded expect, he did not know how the Seeker fit in.
He had not done anything personal to Starscream and did not understand what drove him to insult him. When he overheard Starscream refer to him as mindless, the Predacon could only growl and shoot a glare.
Silence! You were not there to understand why I failed. Who are you to critique me?
But Starscream's attitude made the Predacon wonder if everyone saw him as something lesser than them. Were they really so different? Sure, there was no one else who looked like him, but the Predacon thought that Shockwave had just made him special, bigger, and stronger. They did not look all the same either, but the Predacon began to realize that he was an outlier. No one talked to him directly to give commands, so they did not think he could understand them.
What am I? he wondered.
Everyone had been calling him "the Predacon" and he had merely thought it was his name, as Shockwave's was to Shockwave. He did not know it was his species until he heard mention of Predacons.
They call those like me Predacons. Is that the name of Shockwave's creations?
He felt even more different because of Starscream's reactions. While he seemed to be the only bot to get angry with the Predacon, his fear was repeated in some of the vehicons. Yet the Predacon's curiosity had grown when Starscream had been left alone with him. When the door closed, Starscream slammed into it, then turned and screamed when he saw the Predacon coming closer.
He had been annoyed by Starscream for his insults, but he was interested in him. Earlier, the Predacon had seen vehicons transforming and realized that some of these bots could fly. He studied Starscream's wings and thought that he could fly too, and the Predacon wondered if everyone but him could change their shape. The excessive staring and his closeness frightened Starscream into balling up and staying still until the Predacon moved away in boredom.
Why is he so afraid of me? My creator and his master do not want me to harm anyone here. Does he not know that? Yes, I am angry with you, but I am not allowed to attack you.
The Predacon had backed away, and eventually Starscream grew bold, trying to use force to bring him inside. That, he could not understand. Why must I go inside when it is more spacious out here? Then, he tossed his head and wondered, Do I really have to listen to this insulting bot?
Starscream was a constant burr, and the Predacon decided he could be a bit rougher and take advantage of his fear. That might make him respect him a bit more.
So he knows I cannot hurt him, so he tries to harm me.
His patience had snapped later, when he overheard Starscream insulting him yet again without provocation. Glaring, the Predacon dove down upon him and slammed a hand over his body.
You should be aware of what I could do to you. Look at how small you are. The Predacon spread his jaws over him, glad to feel Starscream shaking. I could fit half your body inside my mouth. This was only a scare tactic, however, since the Predacon did not imagine that he would actually rip Starscream in half. That could still land him in trouble. Moreover, even if he fantasized about silencing him, he did not imagine that he would do anything else but spit Starscream out.
The answer to the reason why bots were afraid of him came soon. Standing behind Starscream later, the Predacon noticed writing on the screen before them. Something ancient in his spark lit up in recognition of the letters. It was very strange, but the Predacon had had a similar feeling before when he stared into the eye of a dead Predacon clone. He imagined living Predacons filling a world, soaring and standing as far as he could see. He had envisioned other Predacon shapes although he had never seen another living Predacon besides himself.
He watched Starscream type in the password, and he memorized it. Then, when no one was around to stop him, he crept back to the screen to punch in the code. After that, he read the options on the screen and found the promising search bar. He concentrated on how the word should be typed, then guessed and clacked his claw over the letters.
Predacons.
The hazy knowledge let him type it correctly. He growled with interest as a cache of images loaded, the first picture being a scan of himself followed by other drawings of Predacons. Then, writing appeared that he leaned forward to read.
Predacons- a prehistoric race of Cybertronian mechanimal that existed in the Age of Evolution and went extinct during the Great Cataclysm. Predacons were carnivorous due to their incapability to consume raw energon; they devoured all parts of their prey and filtered out everything but the energon from their systems. Some Predacons have been recorded to have preyed upon the bipedal race in the past, but attacks were seldom. Predacons, by mean size, are the largest recorded species to ever exit the Well of Allsparks [according to fossilized specimens and ancient sketches]. Many of them were flight-capable with wings composed of metal blades or flexible fabrics; these variations had two to four legs, with the two-legged Predacons being significantly smaller on average.
The Predacon scrolled along.
Most Predacon fossils are not well preserved; however, pyrovalves have been recovered: the organ responsible for the fire-breathing capability allegedly possessed by most Predacons [link: pyrovalves]. Predacons are assumed to have temperature-resistant metal. Other Predacon abilities have been recorded but not yet proven, this including venom, acid spray, electric shocks, and frost breath.
No one came up onto the roof to check on him, so he lay and continued to read every line. Everything had been beyond his imagination and mostly awed him. Apparently, Predacons had once been everywhere and dominated all the lands as the largest and most powerful race. He couldn't help but puff his chest out a little, especially when he glanced over the pictures and saw that he was the largest recorded specimen to date.
I must be the clone of the most powerful Predacon that existed.
His ancient memory watered the first bud of pride, but this did not make the Predacon want to turn against the Decepticons. He had to admit that the predatory nature of his ancestors repulsed him, and he did not know why they had not just lived with the bipeds. Life was quite nice for him here, and killing bots just for energon seemed cruel and unnecessary. Then, the idea that some Predacons had consumed bipeds was beyond taboo for him.
Now he understood why Starscream had been afraid of him. The Predacon grimaced, revolted at the idea of swallowing and tasting someone he hated. What Predacon in their right mind would have wanted their enemy inside them? His teeth and claws would firmly only be for fighting. Now though, the Predacon stirred unhappily because the article had called them mere animals.
They have no idea that I am an intelligent life form. How will I ever communicate and express the feelings inside me?
He had heard that there were more Predacons coming, others like him who would understand. However, he could not even talk to them unless he figured something out. On the roof, he practiced growling to sound as close to the bipedal language as he could, but it came out poorly.
What point is there for me to understand their language, if I cannot speak it?
It frustrated and saddened him, and he wondered if this was why Predacons and bipeds could not get along in the past.
Time moved on however, as he waited for the others to be created. The more real the prospect of company seemed, the more his spark urged him into leadership. He remembered his size and felt that perhaps it was his destiny to lead the other Predacons with benign strength. No one would match his power and passion, and he believed that his love would hold them together. For yes, he had begun to love his race after reading of their tragic end. A future where the magnificent race was restored and lived happily with the others was a fairy tale ending for his spark.
The Decepticons are doing a wonderful thing. I will lead my army and defeat our shared enemies, so that all can live in harmony on Cybertron.
He could not wait to see the home world in proper. Earth had awed him, but he wanted his race to inhabit the lands that had been empty of Predacons for millennia.
As soon as the Decepticons are victorious, we will go there.
With the help of the Predacons and their varying abilities, the Predacon was sure that they would soon win. He wondered though, where they and the laboratory were being kept. Unable to ask, he waited longer until the answer would come to him.
The Predacon watched vehicons come and go, jetting away on missions and paying him no attention anymore.
If I am intelligent like them, I must be more than an animal. Could I be like the others? Is there another shape I can take?
He did not think he would be able to become a bot, for that was their primary form and they became something else. Since his primary form was the beast, then he thought he would only be able to become a (very large) car or jet. It was difficult to tell, for he checked himself and saw no wheels, tracks, or wings. Those were always obvious on the other bots, and he only looked all-beast.
Perhaps I do not transform…
The day of truth came sooner than he expected. In the midst of a lightning storm, the Predacon perched on a spike of the warship and let the strong wind push into him. For some reason, the warship had stopped and extended an elevator to the ground. Just then, the red bot named Knockout descended in the elevator with a stockpile of green energon.
There seems to be something important down there. What if it is my brethren?
He soared downward to the mouth of the cave, unable to follow Knockout in the elevator. Instead, he walked in and found the glow of yellow light that led him straight into the cloning operation. There, Shockwave, Megatron, Starscream, and Knockout stood in a loose group between the rows of clones. Spotting them and the Predacons, he slunk in and shrieked both in announcement of his presence and in excitement.
Before he could marvel and look at them all, Starscream stalked up to him with a stray pole. Immediately, the Predacon's expression soured.
"Unruly beast!" Starscream spat. He struck the Predacon's face along with his words, once again taking advantage of the fact that the Predacon could not harm him. Too bitter to show pain, he stared straight at Starscream.
"You dare to roam freely"-whack- "without"-whack- "permission?"
Enough!
The Predacon shrieked in his face, and Starscream's last word slid into a yelp. The scrawny bot tripped backwards out of shock, crashing to the ground and dropping the pole. Digging his claws into the floor, the Predacon stalked after him growling. The sight frightened Starscream so severely that he did not run, but cowered against the rock with a scream.
When he no longer thought can I transform but I will transform, the Predacon's body shrank in on itself. The need to express his individuality and emotions overrode his old, beastly instincts. For so long, he had wondered what and who am I?, then knew at this moment that he would be like one of the bots and speak, civil and honourable but with the power of his race hidden within. A head like theirs broke out from his body as he settled upright on two feet. His yellow eyes narrowed and he loomed over Starscream, letting his deep voice finally run free.
"What?" Starscream gasped.
"Strike me again," the Predacon uttered, "and I will bury that rod in your spark."
The secret of the Predacons that had been unknown to all had been discovered at last. Once he had found control of the beast he was, he had become a being like them.
Every eye in the room widened and stared at him. Starscream was too shaken to stand, but scooted back away to gain distance from him. As he did, he stammered, "I-I did not realize that the beast was capable of transformation-!"
"Nor did I," Megatron growled while shooting a glare back at Shockwave.
The Predacon was too furious and distracted by Starscream. He jerked at him and snarled, "I am no beast" before stomping by on heavy, crunching feet. Starscream slid away just before he was trod on, but then the Predacon's focus shifted. When he remembered the tubes holding the potential-filled bodies of Predacons, his path turned to take him to them. In front of one specimen, he paused, eyes softening as he looked over its body.
Shockwave rumbled behind him, "The ability to transform is a fundamental part of Cybertronian biology. We simply possessed no evidence that the Predacon species ever reached that evolutionary stage, since they became extinct in the Great Cataclysm."
Starscream drawled, "And now we know…" then snarled.
The Predacon barely heard the conversation, so caught up in his hope was he. With his discovery of transformation, the dream of peace and collaboration was more feasible than before. Eyes starry, he regarded the incubating Predacon and sighed.
"So, the rumors are true. I will no longer be alone."
"And it seems you have been keeping secrets," Megatron uttered with a hint of hostility never before turned on him.
Trying to be as friendly as possible, the Predacon replied, "It was not my intention to deceive you, Lord Megatron…"
He briefly explained his thoughts and development up to this point. After that, he felt bliss that he had never felt before. Everything was going to turn out exactly as he hoped, he thought, as he walked with Megatron back into the ship. He continued talking while the others followed silently like shadows. Pledging his allegiance to Megatron, he asked for his permission to lead the other Predacons once they had emerged, as…
The name surged up from his spark, but he thought he had just invented it.
Predaking.
No longer the Predaking, the viscous and strict ruler who forced power over others. Now, a Predaking, the obvious choice who others would naturally respect. No one realized the change, however, since no one knew who the Predaking had been.
All seemed perfect. His love for the Decepticon cause increased and he fantasized about leading them to glory (he pushed Starscream out of the mental picture, trying to ignore his presence). The day of his army's birth was coming close and he was impatient, excited to meet everyone and show them how to transform. Predaking did not realize until later just how far the roots of history stretched. Old fear touched the Decepticons as they recognized the amount of predatory beasts they were creating. Beasts who were not animals to tame, but intelligent life forms who could think for themselves. Dangerous, strong and carnivorous life forms who might decide the Decepticons were no longer worthy allies.
And so, Predaking was struck by the deepest shock when all the clones were terminated by the Autobots. There was no speck of doubt within him that made him imagine that the Decepticons had orchestrated this to kill the army. All his hatred was concentrated on the Autobots and his loyalty to the Decepticons strengthened for a short amount of time, until the reality of the matter was revealed.
Lord Megatron had feared the Predacons. He had allowed his helpless brethren to be killed, and he had prevented the restoration of his kind. The dream shattered and enraged grief overcame him. Predaking rampaged through the warship, killing all vehicons who stood in his way. When he found Megatron, they locked into battle, with Megatron on the defensive fighting against the brute strength of the Predacon.
You will perish for what you have done!
Predaking hollered and shoved against him. The silver master was losing strength, but that was when the second-in-command shot Predaking from behind. Starscream's missile burned and scorched through layers, incapacitating him so that Megatron could fight him off. Dizzy, Predaking hung as Megatron beat him and threw him into the room. As he struggled back onto his feet, Megatron began to say something smug, but Predaking barely heard it.
He blinked wearily until the side door snapped open and air sucked hungrily to drag him outside. Predaking gripped the wall and exclaimed, fighting to stay inside just as Megatron approached. Then, his yellow eyes widened as the warlord raised his large blaster and powered it.
"You should have heeded my advice, and faced me as a beast!"
Purple light, and agony seared into his chest. Predaking spun out of the ship, his wounded body crashing into the spikes. He floundered and shouted in his helplessness, hands reaching out to grip something.
Do not die. Do not succumb!
The pain was so great: those burns on his chest and back. Added to this was the emotional pain, perhaps the worst of all, after everything that had happened to him. He would have given everything to regain his dream, the hypothetical life that the Predaking had imagined had he not made his mistakes. The dream before death, the dream he had been reborn to fulfill. This time, Predaking felt that he had done nothing wrong.
Why had they done this to him? What had he ever done to betray their trust? Predaking had been nothing like the beasts of ancient history, and he had done everything they had asked of him to the best of his ability.
Why was he hated and feared?
Why were the Predacons so hated and feared that they needed to be killed before ever stepping into life?
Why were they not given a chance?
Predaking sank his claws into the ship, then crawled upward to lay on a spike. There, he wavered between black and consciousness, the questions of why looping through his mind. For how long he lay, he did not know, for he eventually passed out with his claws dug into the metal. The warship underwent a battle, but he heard none of it. Predaking lay and went unnoticed as the warship passed through the spacebridge to Cybertron, and there slowly, brightening lights roused him to wake.
He rolled and began to climb back up the sides of the ship, not realizing where he was. Losing his grip, he twisted and hung, now facing the sun. Predaking blinked, weariness fading as he noticed the lines of blue crossing a field and metal building speckling the land behind it.
This is… Cybertron!
His head lifted high and his expression softened. He had actually made it to the homeland of all Cybertronian life, and for the first time in eras, there would be a Predacon once again calling it home. Him…
Me.
He released his hold on the warship and plummeted through the air. Then, he transformed and caught the wind under his wings, gliding forward past the ship into the beyond.
Autobots, Decepticons. All those bipeds had despised him and wounded him, leaving him now alone with only himself. One Predacon, soaring into a new era without a clue as to what would happen now. Somehow, he would have to take care of himself and find clean energon to drink. But then, what would happen when the world filled with more of those bipeds? Would they hunt down the lone Predacon to once again be rid of them?
They had not listened to his honesty, even when he had spoken in their own language and looked like them. The only thing that was clear to Predaking now was that appearances did not mark a beast. Although he was the one with fangs, the roles had been reversed in the world he had awakened into...
May these new monsters leave him in peace.
The End, a Beginning.