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The gently swirling snow fell softly over the vast spralling metropolis that was central city. The blizzard, mollified now from its ravenous state, retreated into the dark, lowhanging clouds above. The wind had ceased to howl around the building like a blind wraith; the snow had slackened off. Those who were stuck inside began to look out their second story window hopefully, wondering if this was the end of the worst blizzard in nearly a decade.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the giant snow crawlers began to make their way across the over head walkways, shoveling an endless avalanche of snow over the side onto the roads below where even larger street movers bulldozed waves of white before them to reveal black pavement beneath.

Then suddenly, the tranquility was shattered.

The large Galactic Federations building, the center off all off-world activities, seemed to rippled within itself. Then a horrendous crashing report cracked like a whip across the city, and the structure seemed to fold up into itself in the middle. A fireball exploded outward from the fourth floor, sending a wave of shattered glass and steel smashing into the surrounding buildings. Above the explosion the building seemed to be lifted up, only to come crashing back down onto itself with the awful sounds of shearing metal and shattering glass.

A cloud of dust a mile high appeared as the entire building came crashing down into a pile of rubble.

Sirens began to wail all over the city, but it was too late for anything to be done.

The invisible bombers had struck again.

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Voices. It was those blasted voices again, invading the solitude of her unconscious mind. If they had belonged to a tangible face, raven would have found much satisfaction in smashing it in.

She struggled to get away from the distant voices that were coming closer to her, to get away from the thing dragging her back into consciousness, but it was determined that she should re- enter the world of the living.

For the third time there was a face above her. An unfamiliar human face. A man's face.

His lips moved and she realized he was smiling at her. Raven also became aware that her own lips were moving, only she had no idea what exactly she was saying, except that she was saying a lot of it.

"Shh..." He whispered to her, putting a cool wet cloth on her head. For some reason her eyes itched and she had a mother of a headache. There was some thing important that she needed to tell him, but she couldn't remember what it was.

"What 'appened?" Raven muttered, her tongue feeling unusually thick.

"You fainted. From fatigue, I reckon- not to mention probably shock."

Shock? Her mind drew a blank, and she did her best to look puzzled.

"Yeah, you know, about the investigation and all."

Oh.

"Don't worry; I probably would have dun the same thing, iff-in it were me."

How comforting...

Then she remembered. The man had moved to re-wet the cloth, and she batted his hand away when he tried to put it back on his forehead, struggling to sit up against the confining restrains of bed-covers.

"No. That doesn't matter. Don't trust the Rat." She rushed out urgently, and the man pushed her back down.

"Slow down, Raven. I can't understand you when you talk so fast."

She took great gulps of air and let him put the cloth on her forehead, trying to straighten out her thoughts. Then she opened her mouth to tell him exactly what she had seen-

-And closed it again. No, he would think that she was crazy.

"Who are you?" She quickly changed gears.

"Spike WitWicky. I'm Buster's older brother."

It happened again. But clearer this time. She saw metal, and wires, and gears. They were under his skin, under his smiling face, all through out his body. He twisted before her, contorting into something... different.

And a word came into her mind.

"Headmaster..." She whispered quietly. He gave her a startled and some what confused look.

"Headmaster. You're a headmaster."

At first he looked incredibly surprised, then his expression softened and he gently swept her hair out of her face.

"You better get some rest, or Rachet will string me up by my toenails." He got up and walked to the (thankfully) human-sized door.

"Wait! Where am I?" He paused and turned to her.

"I thought you would know. You're in your room at the Ark." And he left.

Raven lied back down and pulled the covers tight around herself, shivering despite the warmth.

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Spike entered the Med Bay a few minutes later to find ratchet and Wheeljack hard at work on several different computers. It surprised him because WheelJack was more into tinkering than researching. Rachet, though, didn't surprise him at all.

He jumped ten feet strait up to a ledge beside the nearest computer and sat crosslegged facing the two mechs.

"Well, you were right Rachet. I never would have believed it, but apparently your therory hit the nail right on the head."

The red and white robot turned to him.

"How'd you find out?"

"She knew." He gave the mech a deeply meaniful look. "She knew I'm a Headmaster. Before hand she seeemed to have a vision of some kind and was really out of touch for a minute, then she just suddenly piped up and said, 'You're a Headmaster.'"

Wheeljack whistled. Rachet put his chin in his hand, looking thoughtful.

"Yes, just like I thought. She probably fainted because of a vision too."

Suddenly remembering something Raven had said, Spike spoke up.

"ShadowStriker said she whispered something about 'don't trust the Rat' before she collapsed."

"Yes, he told me." Rachet seemed distracted by the computers, much more than he sould have been. Spike grew suspicious.

"What happened?"

"Another bombing happened, Spike. The Galactic Federations building is gone." Spike simply stared in shock, trying to process that knowledge. It was simply to monumentous to really understand. That building had been earth's connection to the universe for so many years. And it was just gone now. Luckily though, everyone would have been evacuated before the blizzard, so probably no one had died in the Bombing.

"Did they manage to catch who did it."

Ratchet switched off the monitor and said simply, "No." A little too simply, Spike thought.

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Detective Roberts stared at his reflection in the full length mirror. In the back ground he could see the glowing screen of the TV, giving his outline an earthly halo. CNN was on, showing the gruesome footage from bombing.

Roberts grinned evilly at his reflection.

Excellent.

He touched his watch on his wrist, and his image shimmered and changed into a small, human shaped robot. Not a transformer, but a sleek, silver human-made robot.

Roberts face cracked in an evilly tooth leer, giving his almost featureless face a sinister look.

He clicked on his eye-camera and bowed before the mirror, knowing that his master was watching his every move.

"The trail has been laid. They will now follow it to their doom."

Very good, Rattrap...

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Somewhere the three hexagonal plates glowed brightly and shattered, revealing three seven-foot robots. They glanced at each other, light blue optics glowing softly.

Evil was rising.

It was time to see out the Key.