Clank blinked awake. He had just powered down, ready to recharge for the night when something had awoken him. He wasn't sure what it was. A yell? A bang? Both? All manner of noises would usually come from the garage; this wasn't the first time one of them had roused him from sleep. There were a plethora of reasons for such a noise. Perhaps Ratchet had tripped and called out in surprise, or maybe he had dropped and broke something, or yelled a curse in frustration. It was most likely something mundane and unremarkable. And, if it really were important, Ratchet would yell for him, or come get him.
Clank closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep. For some reason though, he couldn't. He had this awful feeling in his servos. Something felt wrong. He couldn't give a logical reason why, and for a being who mostly adhered to logic, this was most peculiar. Something felt off, and yet he couldn't place why. Abandoning his plan to sleep, the little robot got up and made his way across the floor.
Why was he feeling this way? Could it be that Ratchet really was in trouble? It could be just a strange bout of paranoia. But what if it wasn't? What if Ratchet really needed him? What if he wanted to come get him, but couldn't? What if he needed him right now, but was unable to call for his aid? Clank's brain was quickly conjuring up a smattering of terrible situations. Ratchet, tripping and hitting his head. Ratchet, lying unconscious. Ratchet, surrounded by a growing pool of his own blood. Clank hastened his pace.
Moving through the house, and getting closer to the garage, he began to pick up on the sound of voices. He quickly recognized Ratchet's. Clank breathed a small sigh of relief. He was still there, and seemingly unharmed. That removed about half of the horrible, potential outcomes. But there was another voice there that Clank didn't seem to know. Or was it two? It was very odd, they didn't often get visitors, except maybe for Talwyn. It wasn't like her to drop in unannounced this late. This voice definitely didn't belong to the Markazian either, it was too deep, most likely belonging to someone male. Clank didn't focus too much on the stranger though. He was too fixated on Ratchet. He sounded furious. Clank was too far away to make out the words being exchanged, but Ratchet's tone cut through loud and clear. Clank was shocked. He rarely, if ever, heard him this angry. Whoever this stranger was, and whatever they were saying to him, was clearly enraging the lombax.
Just as Clank made it within the range to actually make out words, the conversation abruptly ended. Clank stood, just outside the door now, at the entryway that connected the garage to the rest of the house. Now, he could only hear the sounds of scuffling. Was Ratchet fighting the intruder? If he was, he hoped it was Ratchet who was winning, as it sounded to be very one-sided. The fight began to die down rapidly as they moved farther down the garage, towards the exit. Clank was nervous to open the door, unsure what was waiting on the other side. It could be dangerous, perhaps even a trap. But the thought of Ratchet in danger and facing it alone overshadowed any further worries he had for his own wellbeing.
Carefully, Clank opened the door and peered inside. He spotted Aphelion and Ratchet's workbench, but Ratchet himself was nowhere to be found. Scanning the area, his eyes finally landed on the garage's main opening. There, he saw a familiar pointy-eared silhouette. He was being dragged by a tall unknown person. Clank took off. He ran after the pair as fast as his little legs could take him. He made it to the other side of the garage in a flash, but realized he was too late. Standing in the doorway, he could only watch in horror, as Ratchet was thrown into the back of a ship. The stranger then took off, stealing his best friend away.
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