PROLOGUE

Silent snoring sounded from the recharging tables in the dim-lit medbay. Tiny servos and peds moved around in their dreams, and small squeaks emitted from the small protoforms now and then. Their small sparks flickered gently in the darkness.

The white and red nursebot stood in the door opening and watched them. He wiped his lubricate-wet forehead in exhaustion. Taking care of hatchlings was hard work.

The alarm rang from the reception. Another visitor. Hopefully one without a hatchling. Eight was more than enough trouble to take care of.

The nursebot went to the reception room. He held back a sigh of relief as the visiting bot in the waiting room was alone. "How can I help you, sir?" he asked in a friendly tone, sitting down behind his desk.

The newcomer was tall and bulky, dark green and orange, with a pair of downward pseudo-wings on his back. Either a hover-plane or some fancy racecar, the nursebot assumed. His face was purple and covered by a mouth-plate, and he had a pair of green optics. In the middle of his chest, a circle with dark blue ornaments surrounded a large, red pearl of sorts. At first glance, this mech seemed quite dark and gloomy. Instead of the usual Autobot or Decepticon insignia, however, his 'wings' displayed a strange yellow insignia, featuring a head with four horns, the lower pair bigger than the top pair. He didn't seem hostile though.

"I am Creop Trivem from the Cybertronian Parental Union, or CPU for short," the stranger introduced himself.

"That's…an interesting name," the nursebot commented. He was definitely not from around here, probably from the southern hemisphere somewhere. He didn't say it out loud though. It might insult the stranger. "I'm First Aid, Protectobot and caretaker of the Iaconian Nursery."

"I know who you are," Creop said. "I was sent to check on the hatchlings. Confirm if they are thriving and if they are cared for well enough."

"Sure they are. But if you need proof, I can show you where they are." First Aid rose from his chair and gestured towards the hallway. Creop followed after.

"How many hatchlings do you care for in this facility?" Creop asked curiously while they were walking through the hallway.

"The number rises and falls from time to time," First Aid replied as they reached the door to the hatchlings. "Currently I have eight."

"Sounds like quite a handful."

First Aid opened the door, and they were met by the sight of the ever-sleeping hatchlings, laying innocently on each their recharging tables, which were outfitted with bars along the edges to prevent them from falling down as they shifted in their sleep. Their heads were large and silver like their limbs, their torsos black with exposed spark chambers, which were glowing a faint blue color.

"It is. But I used to care for a lot more. At one point I took care of at least thirty of them. And back then, I wasn't the only one on Cybertron taking care of hatchlings. But lately…" First Aid looked saddened at the sleeping little protoforms.

"Yes," Creop continued for him. "Hatchlings are starting to thin out. People prefer construction rather than growth." He went over to their cribs and examined them in the dim-lit room.

"I don't get why though. I mean, sure, it's a lot faster and easier than waiting several years for them to mature, but they don't turn out as sturdy and developed as hatchlings do. Besides, they're so…cute." He sighed endearingly while looking at one kicking tenderly and squeaking.

"Irrelevant for army-builders such as Megatron," the dark mech said lowly while using a scanning device on the hatchlings, trying not to wake them. "He's not patient enough to wait for them to mature. Zeta Prime isn't any better. As much as you Autobots claim you work for good, your leader seems to care more about fighting back the Decepticons than maintaining an entire species."

"Hatchlings aren't a separate species, they're just a stage of life," First Aid protested. "And I admit, there are a lot of Autobots who could…show more compassion than they do. But some of us are trying really hard to keep the peace and morale around here."

"How much energon do you feed them on a daily basis?" Creop asked as he finished his outside analysis of the hatchlings.

"Three times a day," First Aid replied. "With artificial energon. There aren't many crystals left on Cybertron, after all. But it works just as fine, and the hatchlings seem to like it."

"I see…" Creop retracted his analysis devices and shook servos with the nursebot. "Well, that's all. I'll be off now."

"Already?" They walked out and left the sleeping hatchlings. "But you just arrived! Let me at least get you a cup of energon…"

"Thanks for the offer," Creop said politely as they walked through the hallway and entered the reception. "But I'm too busy. I have to report back to CPU with my results. And perhaps I'll stop by the citadel and pay the Prime a visit."

"Well, thanks for your visit anyway."

First Aid followed Creop to the entrance, where the dark mech switched to his alt mode. A hover-plane of sorts. Just as he'd expected. Creop Trivem took off without a parting word, leaving First Aid alone in the dark night, the only source of light in the area coming from the reception room.

He was just about to close the door behind him when he heard a faint whirring sound from the alley on the other side of the area. He knew by both instinct and common knowledge that it would be dangerous to investigate in this time of war. It could be a Decepticon scout or…

A head peeked from a pile of scrap. A tiny head. The backside of a hatchling. First Aid flinched. He couldn't leave a lone hatchling behind. He left the door ajar and walked towards the hatchling in the scrapheap. It seemed to be shuddering. He could hear the faint whirring sound from before, though louder as he went closer. The poor thing must be frightened, he thought. Maybe it had been abandoned by its parents, or someone had kidnapped it and left it to die. Or maybe someone lacking responsibility wanted him to take care of it instead, given they had left it at his doorstep. Either way, he couldn't leave it out here, not with all this war going on. It could get hurt, or worse.

"Hey there, little fellow," he said softly as he approached the hatchling. It turned its head and stared at him with its big, glossy purple eyes. "Are you lost? Where are your—"

First Aid almost had a stroke, when the hatchling's head opened and exposed a mouth filled with rows of sharp teeth. But that wasn't the freakiest part; afterwards, the head went into the air, bodiless. No, wait, there were tiny legs and arms attached to a body barely the size of his thumb.

Scraplet!

The Scraplet flew towards First Aid, who had rushed to the entrance of the clinic, in an attempt to get inside. He wasn't fast enough, and the Scraplet latched onto his left shoulder and began biting through the armor. The nursebot shrieked in pain, but kept his head cool and grabbed the Scraplet, crushing it between his fingers.

He heaved a sigh, which was soon replaced by a gasp of fear. Behind him, more whirring sounds emitted by at least a hundred more Scraplets. His outcry must have alerted them of a free meal. As they began flying towards him, he shut the door behind him, hoping it would stop the Scraplets. Unfortunately, the door was made of metal as well, and it didn't take long for the Scraplets to eat through the temporary obstacle. In the meantime, however, First Aid had found a fire-extinguishing tool on a shelf, and as the Scraplets broke through the door, he sprayed the tiny pests with the cold foam. Several Scraplets fell to the floor, frozen and offline.

But it didn't stop them all. A single Scraplet escaped his counter-attack and latched onto his face, which caused him to scream in surprise. The Scraplet's attack gave its companions the opening they needed; they all latched onto him as if they were magnetically attracted to him. The impact caused him to fall on his back and drop his fire extinguisher. He flailed helplessly, partly trying to crush the vermin with his servos, partly trying to reach for the fire extinguisher.

A faint but rather clear wailing sounded from the hallway. First Aid flinched. The hatchlings! The Scraplets had noticed the noise as well and half of them seemed to have completely forgotten about the large 'Bot they were feasting upon, and instead flew through the hallway. If there was one thing Scraplets loved more than living metal, it was fresh living metal. Thank Primus the door was locked and non-metal…

PLOP!

First Aid could neither move nor see what happened, but he heard a strangely familiar voice just above him.

"Greetings, First Aid. You seem to be in a tight spot."

It was Creop Trivem. The Scraplets ignored him, as if he wasn't even there.

"Kuh-Creop!" First Aid stammered. "Help me! Please! The hatchlings! They're—"

"Being taken care of," the dark mech ended. "For good."

The nursebot's spark made a jolt, and not just because two of the Scraplets had eaten their way through his chest, nearing his spark chamber. He stared at what little of Creop's face he could see, in an upside-down view.

"You…" he began. "What did you do…?"

"Like I said before, the hatchlings are starting to thin out. With all this war going on, there's no possible way they are going to survive to adulthood. This is merely an act of mercy. Perhaps we can try again at the next golden age…if such a thing is ever to come to this planet."

"No! You can't! These hatchlings are innocent! You can't feed them to the Scraplets! You monster!"

The Scraplets on his chest had reached his spark chamber. The blue spark flickered anxiously. Because it wasn't made of metal, the Scraplets ignored it. It didn't stop them from eating through the rest of his body though. He groaned and screamed in pain, but it was nothing compared to the pain in his spark, knowing this mech was going to give the Scraplets in the hallway full access to the nursery, and to the helpless hatchlings residing in it.

And there was nothing he could do to stop them, or him.

Creop was about to leave, but then changed his mind and leaned over First Aid. His faceplate slid down and revealed a malicious smile.

"Actually, let me take care of him," he said, apparently directed to the Scraplets, as he snapped with his fingers which seemingly signaled the Scraplets to get off the nursebot. They were hovering near the ceiling around Creop, teeth still exposed, waiting restlessly for permission to continue their meal. First Aid stared; he couldn't believe his own visor.

"You…control the Scraplets?" he whispered in disbelief. "But that's impossible!"

"And yet you see it, right here, right now, with your own eyes," the dark mech said eerily. "One could say the Scraplets see me as their…ah…ruler. Queen would probably be the correct term, but I don't exactly see myself as a femmebot…" He looked at the swarm of restless Scraplets, awaiting orders.

"I'll have some fun with this guy. You go join the others. Enjoy your meal."