Chapter 19: The Straight and Narrow Path

"Is he alive?" Scatterbrain didn't notice Escia standing at the entrance to his new workshop.

"Barely," he answered, checking his instruments and examining the damage to Tracer's body. "He's going to need a lot of work."

"I don't need him fully functional. I just want everyone to see he's alive. After that, I really don't care."

Scatterbrain sighed at her contempt.

"I'll do my best." he said, trying to focus on the protoform on his bench rather than the one standing at the door.

"I know what you want to do, and I'm telling you It's not going to happen." Escia's voice was growing agitated. "Just stabilize him and move on to the next patient."

"He took a hit to the chest. His power reserves are still critical. I will need to make sure there wasn't any permanent damaged."

"What part of 'stabilize' don't you understand?"

Scatterbrain huffed, "If his core program flatlines I'll have to reprogram him from scratch. I should restore his former self, not erase it!"

"If you save his spark, he's still alive." she droned.

"But if he can't remember who he is or what he's done, I will be letting the protoform I knew die."

"If you could do that for every single patient, it'd be a miracle." Escia walked around his workbench to see the assembler's face. "We've lost too many lives today as it is. Right now, I need quantity; not quality."

"You don't understand, this protoform risked his life to make me. I owe him. I'm one of you because of him."

"Don't make it personal." Escia said, "You have a job to do. So he took a big risk, well so did many good protoforms today. I'm responsible for everyone's spark, not just his. Today was about sending a message. You can cherish him all you want but at the end of the day he's one life out of a few hundred. Stabilize him, and move on. That's an order!"

Scatterbrain cringed, "Yes, ma'am." He listened to her walk away and disappear into the noise of the busy corridor.

Scatterbrain knew what she said. But there was nothing to change his mind. After sever cycles of work, he had repaired all of Tracers damaged internals. But he had to make sure there wasn't anything else that was needed. He sifted through piles of parts and even more shelves of tools before creating a way to link into Tracer's unconscious mind.

He made the connections and interfaced with the link. Scatterbrain felt like he was standing in a vast plane, just ahead of a cloud of buzzing thoughts and memories. The outermost layer of Tracer's consciousness was a barrier of responses—Knee-jerk reactions to pain, fear, anger, and all other emotions. Scatterbrain could hear Tracer's voice echoing with short phrases like 'hey, how's it going' and 'yeah, sounds good.'

Beyond this barrier were fragments of memories. But they came and went so fast it was hard to tell where they were from and what was happening. Scatterbrain knew that if his memories were intact that Tracer was still here. But out of curiosity to test his new link, Scatterbrain pushed himself to look deeper into Tracer's mind.

He could feel himself passing though the cloud of fragmented memories. He came to a space at the eye of this storm that felt organized and focused. From the corner of his vision came the figure of a crude drone.

"Stop where you are!" said the drone as it stared directly at Scatterbrain. He could see this figure was alarmed by him being here.

"Are you... Tracer?" Scatterbrain asked, curiously.

"We're both Tracer..." said another voice behind Scatterbrain. He turned to see a form that was more like the Tracer he knew. His head jumped back and forth between the two ghostly images.

"Two? How can there be two of you?"

Tracer, the protoform, raised his hand for an introduction

"He is my inner drone, my subconscious."

"And you both work together?" Scatterbrain mused. "That's fascinating. How is it you came to... agh! Stop!" Scatterbrain could feel something closing in around him. He dropped down to the floor to bear the pain. Tracer's inner drone was standing still, but he was focusing hard to make this intruder leave. Some kind of feedback was being sent through the link. Tracer walked over and put his hand on the drone's shoulder.

"It's okay, he's here to help!" he said as the drone reluctantly relaxed, but still looked at Scatterbrain with unease.

"He is somehow connected to our neural circuitry!" said the drone. "I could feel him trying to read my codes!"

"I'm only curious," said Scatterbrain, standing again. "how you've achieved this—this state of cooperation. I have never, in all my career, imagined this level of harmony inside a protoform."

"His codes are important to us," said Tracer as he walked closer to Scatterbrain, "they are part of what keeps us alive, so I must ask that you respect his privacy. Wait... assembler?" Tracer blinked in relief. "You're alive! It's good to see you."

"Likewise. I'm called Scatterbrain now."

"Really?" Tracer laughed.

"Yes. I see now it was meant as an insult, but I've gotten used to it. What is happening? This all seems very... surreal."

"Ah, yes," said Tracer distantly, "this is apparently called dreaming. I'm not entirely sure what it really does, but my mind can create some astounding things. Here, watch this..."

Scatterbrain watched as memory fragments coalesced around him.

"This is the last thing I saw" said Tracer, "before I lost consciousness: this... psycho-enforcer."

Scatterbrain watched the images of the thin drone piercing, slashing, and fighting off waves of protoforms as Tracer desperately tried to escape. The images stopped the moment the drone lunged forward and shoved his blades into Tracer's chest. The drone was frozen with an expression of pure ecstasy on his face. Fresh energon stained his forearms.

"He almost killed you," recounted Scatterbrain, "he would have killed everyone. I'm told it was the energon that stopped him."

"What energon?"

Scatterbrain sighed heavily, "Thanks to you, the resistance learned to infuse energon into a spark. I have installed energon canisters inside several members of the resistance. When he... killed them, he began to suffer the effects of energon contamination. After this moment here, they say he started to malfunction just before he ran away. Their names were Readout, Muffler, and Rivet. Escia wants the name of every protoform that was lost today."

"I see."

"We should be getting back." Scatterbrain said, solemnly.

"Wait," interjected Tracer, "there's something I have to show you first."

Scatterbrain watched as fragments of memories swirled and assembled into a complete room. He saw several dozen sparks sorted on shelves inset in a wall. He watched Tracer in the memory holding an empty spark container one moment. And when he looked down again a spark was inside.

"Is this another memory? Are you stealing that spark? Is that… me?"

"That's you." said Tracer, proudly. "Your spark jumped. Have you ever known a spark that could do that?"

The assembler was in awe, "No, never. It defies explanation."

"Then I'd say either you are the best one to study this, or..." Tracer smiled "you be careful your spark wont suddenly jump out of this body too."

Scatterbrain touched his hands to his temples as a look of pain came over him, "We have to get back." he said.

Scatterbrain opened his optics and yanked out the cable connecting him to Tracer. He felt disoriented, his body was sluggish as if his thoughts weren't in tune with it anymore. He stared at his hand and focused as he repeatedly thought of opening and closing it. Tracer slowly regained consciousness himself. But as Scatterbrain watched him, he could tell Tracers joints were stiff from the repairs, and not from a software glitch like him. Tracer sat up and looked at Scatterbrain, possibly unsure if his dream was real.

"So... you're name's... Scatterbrain, right?"

"Yes." Scatterbrain confirmed, gleefully.

"So we really were connected there." Tracer mused.

"Yes, my latest invention."

Tracer cocked his head to one side as he glared at the assembler.

"Hey..." he said, "you're not—"

"Having memory skips?" Scatterbrain finished, "No. The other medic here is Torch. He fixed me as soon as I arrived. He's a perfectionist, very organized. So naturally, we don't get along." he said smiling.

"So this is the resistance..."

"Chiron lead TL and I here."

Tracer looked confused, "Who's Chiron?"

"The platform operator; a protoform in plain sight. He said you two knew each other."

"Right, right... So you fixed me up again, any new upgrades I should know about?"

"Only a couple new pieces, you won't even notice. You also have an internal energon tank to recharge your spark. When you get low, you just have a drink. any energon will do."

"Wow, that simple, eh?"

"Yeah, my idea. Torch wanted to design a whole specialized refuelling system from the bottom up. He nearly lost his mind just from me suggesting using the existing hardware for drinking." the assembler sighed. "Look, I'm glad I was the one to repair you, so I could thank you. I have done that." Scatterbrain touched his hand to his own chest, and the spark underneath. "Once again you've given me some new mystery to investigate. I wish we had more time, but I have many more protoforms I need to see to. Most are injured, but some have been locked in their storage mode. I can't disable the locks, the codes are too complex for me. Each unit has to be reset manually, and that has it's own complications. Excuse me." He then turned and walked over to gather up his instruments.

"You do what you have to do. Do you want me to help?"

"Maybe another time. Right now I think Escia wants to see you in the command chamber on the other side of the base."

Tracer sighed, heavily "Of course she does."

Tracer wandered through the tunnels. As he asked for directions protoforms' jaws occasionally dropped open, and others rushed over to shake his hand. He tried to brush aside their praise, and telling them he's no hero.

As he was wandering through he walked passed an opening in the cave that lead outside. Outside the cave entrance Tracer could see an open expanse of untouched terrain. These caves couldn't be far outside the city walls.

"They're going to send a team to collapse this opening." said a nearby guard. Tracer nodded and moved on.

By the time he reached the command chamber he was annoyed with how perfect he was in everyone's optics. A burly protoform stood outside the chamber and showed him in. Escia was finishing a meeting with other protoforms. When she saw Tracer she told them that was enough for one day, she will speak with them tomorrow.

After everyone left Tracer waited at the entrance for her to acknowledge him. Instead she appeared to busy herself looking over one of her reports.

"You wanted to see me?"

She gestured for him to sit. Tracer moved to one of the crates and sat down. Escia kept her optics on the report, as though she was trying not to look at Tracer. She continued to read until she looked bored and glanced at the silent protoform before her.

"Nothing? Not even a 'thank you.'"

"For what?" scoffed Tracer, "I didn't see you fighting your way into the arena to save me. You didn't bring me here, or fix me when I was near death. What exactly should I be thanking you for?"

"For letting it all happen." she gloated.

"Oh, I see... you took a back seat long enough for these protoforms to actually get something done; or is it that you lead them despite your feelings because you can't change the minds of protoforms after promising them freedom from tyranny."

"I'm sure you've seen how popular you are. These protoforms don't know you as well as I do. If they knew you were working for the Quintessons to bring back Alpha Trion; or how you still went back to work for them for weeks. You've been their loyal pet for most of your life, while we have been working day and night to keep the resistance alive. Do you think protoforms would still admire you?"

"I can't help they think I'm some kind of a hero." Tracer boasted.

"Well it's an illusion that won't last now that you're here. They're going to see the real you."

"You haven't even seen the real me!" Tracer raised his voice, "You met me when I was a day old! You think I'm still the same as I was then?"

"I know you are!"

"How?"

"Alpha Trion. He came to see you while you were still working for the Quintessons, remember? We could have rescued you right then and there but we didn't! He's not the same anymore. All he needs is one look, and he can see into your spark. All your self-righteous angst; it's always been there, and it will always be there. It's in the nature of your spark and you can't change that."

"That was while I was still a loader." Tracer lashed, "That was before the arena, before I stole the spark. I've been through a lot since then. Maybe he'll see something different in me now."

"You can't change what's in your spark." Escia lectured, "You're full of doubt. You can promise me anything today, but there's no assurance you won't change your mind. There must be no doubts on the path we are committed to. None whatsoever."

"Let me hear it from Alpha Trion himself."

"That's not possible."

"Why not?"

"You're not the only newcomer we brought back to our base. We have a few dozen protoforms that followed when the enforcers started attacking. Now we have to keep a close watch on every one. For all I know each one is either a spy, traitor, or assassin. I definitely don't trust those butchers that you let come back."

"They saved us from an enforcer. You at least know you have three experienced fighters on your side."

"And all it takes is one to betray us! You, Alpha Trion, and I are the first ones they'll come for. A single assassin is all it would take to end the resistance. Nobody sees Alpha Trion until I know he's safe. It will take time, we will have to interview everyone."

"You don't trust me? Fine, I don't care." Tracer spat, "So what do you want me to do?"

"I could use a cleaner." Escia said, smirking.

"Any drone can do that."

"Finally, we agree on something."

"Are you serious? You rescue me just so I can scrub your floors?"

"You'll get to meet all your adoring fans."

"That's not the real reason and you know it! You just said the three of us are the first targets if there really is a traitor in your midst. You want me out in the open so I can be bait!"

"You're smarter than I remember." she teased.

"You don't think I have any useful skills? I drove all over the city, I've been inside the palace, I've been out in the wastelands! Don't you think the resistance should start collecting their own sparks? I can show you how to find them. You got several dead friends, let's get some fresh sparks and put those bodies to good use."

"NO!" Escia shot to her feet. Her optics trembled as she leaned over her desk in rage.

"That's it." Tracer uttered. "That's the real reason you didn't want to save me. That's why you want me out of the way. It's never been about my attitude or which side I was on. You hate me because you can't look me in the optics without seeing your dead lover Armaetrus!"

"Don't say his name! You never knew him."

"Everyone knew him! Everyone always compared me to him. It was all I heard for the longest time. You all see his face when you look at me, well guess what—it's not his face anymore! Don't blame me you can't get over how he got himself killed."

"He was murdered!" Escia stressed.

"You say that like there's a difference. He's still dead!"

"You think I don't know that?"

"You don't want to know! That's why you hate me. You've taken up as leader of his resistance, desperately holding together everything he made. You're not looking for answers, you're not seeking justice or revenge against the ones who murdered him. You tell me people don't change? You must have. You were nobody when the enforcers first captured you—the night we first met. You weren't this uptight, snooty commander. You were just some young protoform, with a head full of ideas and a spark full of emotions. Weren't you? Then you saw me, and you knew. This isn't where you thought you'd be. You're not here because you think you belong, all you're doing is what you think he would have wanted you to do. I know. We both tried to live up to Armaetrus' reputation instead of letting go. It almost got me killed, and I'd say it's done the same for you."

Escia stared at Tracer in silence for ages. She drew in air to cool her spark, and sat down.

"Don't let all this popularity go to your head. You stole one spark. People think a single act can be heroic. But where did it get you? Weren't you captured? Weren't you about to be executed? You're alive now because of the resistance that Armaetrus started, and I protected. Real heroes help others who can't help themselves, and not once out of spite but day after day because of faith. The night we met there was nowhere for protoforms to go. Nowhere to hide, no one to trust. Somebody had to walk the straight and narrow path and take responsibility. It doesn't matter if I wanted this. I didn't have the luxury of letting someone else make these hard decisions. You think I'm here because I can't let go? I couldn't have done this if I wasn't inspired by him. Armaetrus showed me the better part of myself I didn't know I had. Don't you dare judge me. My resistance paid the price for your freedom... and if you have a shred of decency in you, you'd show me some gratitude!"

Tracer stood up and turned to leave. He could feel anger burning in his spark, he tried to calm it. As he was about to step out of the chamber he looked at the natural walls of the caverns.

"I guess there is something I should thank you for: for teaching me how to use a sword." he said, turning back.

"When exactly did I do that?" she asked, looking confused.

"When I was in my cell. You—or somewhere here—hacked into the system. You were watching me. You taught me how to fight... didn't you?"

Escia shrugged, "The dungeon's security systems are too new, we only just made the escape tunnel after Chiron joined us."

"It wasn't you? No, it had to be you!"

"I would never help you murder an innocent life."

"But... what about the palace? Someone took out the guards to help me escape with the spark. Someone here did that, right?"

Escia rolled her optics and sighed in annoyance.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." she said, staring blankly at him.

Tracer thought he would be surprised that the resistance weren't the only ones using him like a puppet. But it seems that it's difficult to be surprised when almost everything that's ever happened has proceeded without ever revealing why. There is too much chaos going on to always see clearly why events turned out the way they did. Tracer had apparently given up on making sense of everything long ago. This realization was lost on Escia though, who, herself, had given up on ever making sense of what thoughts may or may not be working behind his optics. She had already forgotten he was still in the room.

"Whatever..." he whispered, and then turn around to leave.

Tracer wandered the halls trying to avoid as many protoforms as possible. He felt claustrophobic. Optics were glaring at him no matter where he went. There was nowhere he could just be alone. He sprinted back to Scatterbrain's repair bay. When he reached the corridor leading to it he noticed one protoform sitting by the wall. Tracer recognized him from his work as a loader.

"Miscel?" Tracer asked.

The protoform looked up rather dazed. He glared at Tracer for a moment before his optics blinked and he suddenly realized who he was looking at.

"Tracer?" he whispered.

"It's good to see you." Tracer was relieved to find someone who really knew him. Someone he could have a normal conversation with. Tracer wanted to have another of their laid-back chats about something pointless. Then Tracer noticed the other body that was propped up against the opposite wall. The light in his optics had gone, and his injuries left no mystery as to why. This was what Miscel had been staring at when Tracer arrived. Tracer didn't recognize him, but knew the two of them had to have been close friends.

"I uh... I'm sorry." Tracer said, sincerely.

"It's not your fault."

"Some people say it is. I don't really know anymore."

"We almost made it together." Miscel said, staring off at nothing. "I kept him talking while I carried him. He was there one moment, and then I turn the corner and... he's gone. We almost made it."

"Are you alright though?"

"Me? I dunno. Pffft." Miscel shrugged. "I'm here, for whatever that's worth."

Tracer could tell Miscel didn't really want to chat. He also knew he couldn't console him.

"Tell me about him." Tracer said softly

"We just met the other day. We were sitting next to each other at the Colosseum. I kept trying to make him laugh, it wasn't working. I finally managed to make him smile. He's been holding in his emotions his whole life, he was glad someone could reach the real him. We've been together ever since. When the enforcers attacked, I only escaped because I was following him. I don't know where I'd be if it wasn't for him."

"What was his name?"

"Grids."

Tracer wanted to remember that name for Miscel's sake, and not because Escia blames him for all the deaths. He told Miscel to take care of himself and continued into the repair bay. Tracer didn't see the old assembler, and figured he must have been needed somewhere else. Tracer looked around the large, open chamber. There were several workbenches with protoforms either stable or deceased. None were fully conscious. He wondered how many would believe he was to blame for all this suffering. Escia doesn't want him around, she'll make everyone see he's nothing special. After everyone hates him she'll have him right where she wants him. When nobody sees him as the hero, nobody will want him in the resistance. He'll be left to beg for Escia to keep him. She'll take everything from him until he becomes her personal servant. Stripped of all dignity and purpose.

At the far end of the repair bay was a collection of tools, spare parts, and digital tablets. Tracer stared at all the gear longingly. The digital tablets wouldn't be crucial to anyone's plan. There were too many for the resistance to make use of down here. They may sit idle for months. Desperate to live his own life he grabbed as much equipment as he could carry. He knew what he had to do.

"She said you'd try to leave." came a soft, feminine voice behind him.

Tracer sighed. He turned to look at TL, her optics said more that words ever could. He turned back again, not wanting to face it.

"You can tell her she was right, like always."

"And you weren't going to say goodbye?" TL's voice sounded frail.

Tracer groaned, trying to find the words.

"I wanted to, but every protoform either worships or hates me. I don't blend in at all. I'd have to listen to every protoform babbling about justice and freedom, loyalty and honour. She wants to turn me into a maintenance drone, can you believe that? Does anyone else here find it funny that freedom from a life of servitude means I have to live in the service of freedom, or am I going crazy?"

"Please stay. You'll be safe here."

"I was safe when I followed orders working for the Quintessons."

"And when you chose not to, they threw you in the dungeon! At least here, we don't kill protoforms that just speak their mind."

"What do you do to them?"

"So far we're able to talk about it. We have to be understanding so we can trust each other."

"Except with regards to me."

"It'll only be temporary. Besides, cleaner is just your job, it doesn't define who you are. Everyone already wants to hear your stories from the arena, or how you managed to escape the palace. Already some people think Scatterbrain invented the energon infuser—which we know was your idea. If you just tell your stories everyone will see why you really were worth saving. Nobody's seen half the things you have. That must be what makes you so dangerous to the Quintessons. You probably know a few of their secrets, the more we know the better prepared we'll be."

Tracer chuckled, "I have a hard time believing you all freed me just so I could be another old protoform telling all the newcomers how things were different back in my day. Why did you really rescue me?"

"You insulted the Quintessons after your first match, and you walked away unharmed. However it happened, you got to be the one everyone knew for standing up to the Quintessons."

"But the Quintessons weren't even there!"

"It doesn't matter. You really should appreciate how much of a difference a little theatricality makes. You became a symbol for the resistance, and the Quintessons would do anything to take that away. So we took you away first."

"Terrific," Tracer sighed, "I'm just a prize that everyone gets to fight over."

"You're more than that."

"A storyteller? I'm being called too many things lately. Nobody even stopped to ask what I want to be."

"What do you want to be?"

"Left alone!" Tracer lamented.

"Where will you even go?"

"Into the wastes. I can fuel up on energon I find. Someone should go and at least map the terrain. There might be better sites far away where the Quintessons will never find us. We might even learn more about sparks and where they really come from. It's better than staying here, scrubbing floors while everyone else gears up for an uprising."

"At least you wouldn't be alone." TL hesitated, "You don't want... anyone to talk to?"

"You could come with me." he pleaded.

"I can't leave."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm needed here." she said with a sense of purpose. "The Quintessons are hunting every protoform on the surface now, not just the resistance. Our cause is more critical than ever. When Escia found us, the resistance was on the verge of falling apart. Morale was as bad as it gets. She was doing her best to lead them but she couldn't do it alone. Chiron and I are making this more than a refuge; we're making it a home. Escia told me about the difference one protoform can make, and now I've seen it with my own optics. Everyone needs time to heal after today, but this won't be the last time we go on the offensive. Just put up with Escia for a few days. She's just one protoform out of six hundred. If you put up with her tedious chores there will be good times too, I promise. You'll find your place too." She said reassuringly, "Right now people need to see that a folk hero ordered executed by the Quintessons could be rescued and turned to our cause."

"I don't want to be anyone's hero." Tracer said, sternly.

"Look, nobody expects you to act like some kind of all-knowing prophet. Just be grateful that people put in the effort when you needed it most, she will see where you're skills lie in time."

"In time... after I concede to her authority?"

"Escia wants you to leave. I told her I could convince you to stay, and she told me I was wasting my time. She denied the Quitnessons your execution, to her that was victory. She's making you miserable so that you'll leave by your own choice because that's just what leaders do. If you stay you'll prove you're better than the protoform she thinks your are." Tracer saw he optics tremble. "She doesn't know you like I do. Don't leave me again."

Tracer stepped in close to her and looked into her optics.

"How can you still care about me? I'm not a rebellious freedom fighter. I'm definitely nobody's faithful disciple. The only thing I'm good for is derailing everyone else's perfect plans. You and I are leagues apart. Why would you still want to be with a total wreck like me?"

"Because you're the only one who told me I'm wrong because you care. You told me not to follow you into the palace—and I would have. You told me to give up hope when you lived in fear of the Quintessons. But you only said that because you'd seen what happens to rogue protoforms, and you didn't want that to happen to me. I've argued with many protoforms, but they're always against me because they don't like me. Chiron hates me so much he has a messenger to talk to me in his place. But people have a harder time arguing with a friend." she sighed, heavily, "It's harder to tell a friend when they're wrong about something important. Most people will support their friend, and leave it for someone else to challenge them. I considered you a true friend before you did any of... this. I need to know I can depend on you when I need it. But I want to keep you safe too."

"TL... I'm sorry." Tracer stepped close to her, hesitating to reach out and hold her tight. "I can only imagine what you must have done to plan my rescue. You're a natural leader. I know only you could have rallied the resistance to bring me back safely. Thank you. Thank you for saving me because you cared about a friend, and not because you hated the enemy. If it could just be the two of us, I'd never want to leave. But the resistance just isn't for people like me. I have to be assigned a job. I have to present myself as this folk hero. And at the end of the day, I don't have any say in what I'm allowed to do. Escia wants me to praise her and prove I was worthy to save." Tracer paused, "Funny... I remember the Quintessons saying the same thing after I got my spark. I hope you all can live happily here, because I know I wont. I want to know what it's like to live each day how I want, and never have to serve one master or another. I don't want to be just another cog in someone else's machine. If I'm not being forced to stay, I think I deserve the freedom to leave."

"Fine." TL trembled, not wanting to look at him anymore.

Tracer whispered goodbye as he passed her.

"Just go." she fumed.

Tracer stowed all the tools and tablets. She didn't move to go after him. She new better than that. Tracer made his way through the caverns until he came to the opening into the wastes. The demolition team had arrived and warned Tracer that he wouldn't be able to get back. Tracer scoffed at their warning and wandered out under the night sky.

The city was still close enough to see. Tracer wandered through the metallic dunes until the landscape changed. Everything became sharp and chaotic. Far off in the distance he could see the faint glow of distant specks. He pressed on.

The landscape continued to evolve the farther he travelled. Regions had layers of metal that were broken and twisted by some great upheaval. Tracer would try to follow the highest path to see as far as he could. The sheer vastness of this empty planet was awe inspiring. He felt like it might go on forever, and that only calmed him more.

He crested a ridge just before dawn. As he saw the light of the rising sun paint the metal planet beneath him, he thought his optics might be malfunctioning. Then he realized he had found an energon lake. He climbed down and sat on the shore as he watched the sky come to life. He dipped his hand into the lake and drank the cool liquid. He closed his optics as he felt his systems recharge. He felt relaxed, unburdened, and for the first time in his life, free.

He lied back on the shore of the energon lake and stared up at the sky as his optics slowly closed. A dream washed over him. He imagined even more impossible lands. With towers that reached up to the stars, platforms that floated in the air, and fountains of energon. He came to a spot in this dream and saw the fantasy land dim and fade. Someone was standing behind him.

"Tracer," greeted the drone.

"Tracer..." acknowledged the protoform. He turned and noticed his inner drone looking somewhat panicked. "What's going on?"

"I need you to remember something: Normal star turn flood." his inner drone said urgently.

"Why?" Tracer asked, nearly dumbfounded." What does that mean?"

"I don't have time to explain. Just remember!"

"But why—" Tracer's words echoed through his diminishing dreamscape. The world around him faded and dimmed until he felt he was standing in total darkness. The only light was his spark, that pierced through his translucent frame. He waiting for something to happen. He wondered if something had gone wrong, he might never wake from this. He would stay in this world of dark silence until his energon tank was depleted.

It could be a long time.

He didn't notice when the faint sound of footsteps drew closer and a face pierced through the darkness. He took a solid moment to realize this was real—or at least not a figment of his own longing. The face reminded him of his inner drone, yet it now appeared altered. It was made of smooth, solid shapes held together by nothing but pure code. The face seemed to be searching for something, it scanned up and down and almost missed Tracer entirely before he jumped in surprise.

"Oh, hello!" greeted the new program.

"Did it work?" asked Tracer.

"Did what work?" asked the drone.

"Are we functional?"

"No." coldly stated the drone.

"So that's it then."

"I'm afraid so..." the drone trailed off. "By the way, do you know if there's anyone here by the name of Tracer?"

"Yeah..." Tracer sighed, "you're looking at him."

"You're Tracer?" gasped the drone.

"Yes... Who else would I be? Nevermind, don't answer that."

"It seems I'm missing a crucial sequence of code. Was there anything I had given you. A number? A formula? A cipher?"

"The last thing you told me was: Normal star turn flood"

Tracer spoke the string of incoherent words and is immediately reactivated. He sat up and looked again at the energon lake ahead of him. He felt once again revitalized and more in-tune with his body. His optics could see better, his audio receptors could hear better. His limbs felt light and responsive.

"So what does all this mean?" Tracer asked out loud.

"You just activated our new core program." said his inner drone, "From what I can tell our old program was degrading. It must have been serious if we had to take such a risk."

"Will this be a common thing?"

"Actually, no. I've rewritten several vital codes so that a complete reboot should not be necessary. Most repairs can be made while you sleep, you won't even notice."

"Well, that's good news. "Tracer wandered around the lake looking for a place to set up a camp. He took out one of the tablets to start his personal logs and map making.

"I thought you'd like to know" began his inner drone, "that I've repaired all the program locks the Quintessons had left. You can even shift into storage mode and back into robot mode whenever you want."

"Don't take this personally," Tracer laughed, reassuringly. "I understand on a coding level that must have taken a lot of effort. But if I can be honest with you, you shouldn't get too excited about this one new gimmick, I promise it will never useful to anyone, ever."