"My lovely carrier," a touch on her head made her open her eyes.
Celia moved slowly, pain dulling her thoughts.
"Good, you are online at least."
Looking up, Celia held back the wail of grief.
Martha knelt before her, her eyes shinning with happiness.
"You are finally free, my lovely carrier," Martha looked over her shoulder.
Celia inhaled as cops entered her house as Tyler raised a chain to bring down on bloody and mangle lumps.
She watched the cops bring Tyler down, then turned over the first body.
"Annie!" She keened in horror.
"She is waiting for you."
"What? She's, she's dead," Celia pointed at the image they both watched.
"Wheeljack's device triggered before Tyler began breaking the bodies. Their spirits are waiting on the other side for you," Martha gestured and Celia stared at a pile of protoforms lying against desert sand.
Without the armor and kibble, she couldn't tell their frame type, except the feline laying next to a boxy symbiote carrier and a seeker-like or shuttle-like build.
"You are the most loyal and devoted defender I have met, even among those who are one already. It is time for you to take your rightful place in the universe you should have been onlined in."
"Will you be there?" Celia looked at the one she'd follow into the pits and back for.
"No. I departed too long ago," Martha grinned, "But you have the leader you need there. He's there to bring you home."
"Not the one I thought," Celia shivered, "I can't go with Megatron."
"You never followed him. You implemented Jazz's espionage tricks to hide your true loyalties, even from yourself. You became enough like Jazz, Tyler never picked up on it. Say the name of the leader you chose and regain you true self."
The memory of those optics as he pleaded with her to leave the house, the way he listened, and the way he cared for his Autobots, Cybertronian and human.
It all made sense since the death of Martha.
"Optimus Prime," Celia blinked her eyes, finding she was laying on a dirt ground, Martha gone.
Pain lashed her head, making her dizzy as she leveraged herself up to her knees.
Her hands were metal.
Servos. She had servos.
:Carrier?:
She turned her head, no helm, to the speaker.
A feline symbiote bumped helms with her.
She started to say her name but a warning popped up saying, "Designation taken. New designation of symbiote?"
She looked at her kitten, and smiled, :Seems you need a new name. Thoughts?:
:I love the sun.: The engine purr made Celia smile.
:Helios is the male god of the sun. How about Helia?:
:I love it, carrier.:
Celia slowly stood, the dizziness nearly threatening to send her back to her knees.
"Ah, there you are," the voice made her want to growl at its possessiveness.
Slowly turning, she glared at Megatron.
Protocols began running, her field of vision highlighting the Decepticons surrounding her, and the still offline protoforms at her pedes.
Names and frame types were attached to the protoforms, along with a unit name and rank:
Brash - Gladiator, Primal Guard Rank 1.
Gunner - Door-winger, Primal Guard Rank 2.
Buffer - Minibot, Primal Guard Rank 1.
Toolbox - Scientist, Primal Guard Rank 3.
Dragoon / Abeam / Rumple / Leaper / Abaft - Dinobot Combiner, Primal Guard Rank 2.
Pivot - Shuttle, Primal Guard Rank 4.
Pivot, Annie's Transformer name. That meant the others were…
"Come to your lord," Megatron smirked, assured of her response.
Except her optics shifted beyond him to a figure in the distance, racing her way.
The red and blue semi barreling closer instantly caused her priority trees to reorganize.
Words came to her as if she always knew them, and confirmed her purpose in this new body.
"Primal Guards on your pedes!" Her voice rang with command, a mask sliding into place over her face.