The next morning, not many people were in hurry to get up that day. With the trial being late in the night and Chromedome's execution, not many people were up for socializing. Naturally, the first two in the lunchroom were the two that took death the lightest.

"Wow, that was awesome!" Wildrider shouted as him and Dead End entered the lunchroom together at 7:30.

"Wildrider, may I recommend taking pleasure in different things?" his gestaltmate recommended as the two of them grabbed a cube.

"Oh, come on! The way the knife went flying in the air and got stuck in the head was awesome! I can only hope that my execution is as good as that."

"Uh-huh, yes, whatever," Dead End said with a roll of his optics. "If you're going to kill someone, perhaps you could put some effort in hiding it," he recommended as the two of them grabbed a seat.

"Maybe I could try that," Wildrider agreed. "I'm plenty smart you know. All the insane people are smart."

"I would say that some smart people are insane and some people are just insane because they just are," Dead End offered his viewpoint, glaring at Wildrider.

"Oh, you want to go at it?" Wildrider asked, glaring at him wickedly.

"If you two do fight, do it when I'm not around," a voiced told them. The two glanced at the entrance where Bludgeon walked in and grabbed a cube before taking a seat.

"Why am I not surprised that you're up?" Dead End muttered, taking a sip of his cube.

"I take death easily. The only thing that really affected me was how it was done," Bludgeon told them, sounding a bit unease. "To kill someone so blatantly sadistically, shows a lack of morals."

"Coming from someone who worked with Jhiaxus, that must really say something," Dead End snarked, taking a sipped from his cube.

"Our relationship was… complicated," Bludgeon muttered. "Not that it matters much anymore. He's dead. Dust to the vacuum of space."

"A wonderful loss to everyone," Dead End muttered.

"Aww, but I liked him, kinda," Wildrider said sadly.

"Oh boy, not many up today, huh?" came a new voice and they all glared at Beachcomber as he slowly made his way in, looking really tired.

"Insommia?" Dead End asked him as he took a cube and dropped in his seat.

"Of a sort," Beachcomber said, clutching his head worryingly. "What happened to Chromedome was messed up."

"See Wildrider, you're in the minority," he told him.

"Ah, whatever. Not everyone can appreciate genius," Wildrider begrudgingly remarked.

"I'm telling you for the last time, NO!" said a voiced in the hallway.

"Ratchet, have you seen yourself in the mirror? You need to clean up!" said another voice. After that sentence was said, Ratchet and Knock Out entered together, bickering. "All of those dents and scratches need to be cleaned up."

"Do you want me to smack you?"

"You wouldn't dare scratch my finish."

"Oh, I so would."

"Why you smug-"

"Enough!" Bludgeon shouted, slamming his fist on the table, causing the two medics to stop arguing. "You two are driving my patience."

"Mine too," Smokescreen said, entering the room. "I was trailing behind them because they were so annoying." He went and picked up a cube and sat down, observing everyone. "So, I'm guessing no one had a good night's sleep," he remarked sarcastically.

"Aside from Wildrider, no," Dead End remarked.

"Makes sense," he muttered with a drink of his cube.

"Alright, calm down. We're you some energon," they heard yet another voice said and Skywarp entered, Laserbeak incessantly pecking at him. "Stupid pet wants energon." At that, the pecks became faster and harder, causing Skywarp to moan louder and rushed to the energon, quickly entering and leaving the place and sitting at the table, a cube for each of them. "I don't understand how Soundwave dealt with him much less all those other minicons," Skywawp complained in a huff.

"Well then, why don't you give him to someone more capable?" Ratchet asked him.

"No way. You know what's the last thing Starscream said to me when I was coming over here?" he asked them rhetorically. "He said, 'Skywarp, you are too much of an idiot to take care of anything. They'll all die under you guidance.' Well, you know what? Screw him. I'm going to take care of Laserbeak and make Soundwave proud, and then rub it in Starscream's face when I get back to him," Skywarp told everyone.

"What a riveting tale," Hoist mutter, exiting the energon room and taking a seat.

"What the- When did you get in here?" Skywarp asked, glaring at him.

"You'll never know," he muttered, gulping some of the energon. "Now then, when are we going to explore the new area, if no one else has already done so," he asked the group.

"Well, I say we wait to roughly eight to go there so that everyone else can have time to get up," Ratchet told him.

"Probably for the best," Bludgeon agreed, "although I think some of the will be sleeping in late today, for a myriad number of reasons."

"Big, scary, samurai dude is right. I don't think many people are going to come out this morning," Skywarp agreed, his optics wandering around.

"Yes, I think so as well," Knock Out agreed, "although I think a couple of them will be trying and failing to sleep, like Beachcomber over there." He pointed to Beachcomber slumped down and not focusing on anything in particular. "He probably binge on those anti-depressants last night."

"Huh?" Beachcomber wondered. "Did you say something to me?"

"Nope," Knock Out answered with a nonchalant shrug.

"Smooth," Dead End muttered, drawing a datapad out and reading it. "Tell me when we'll begin our exploration."

"Hmph, whatever," Knock Out said, growing quiet.

For the next few minutes, the room was silent. The most amount of noise came from Skywarp talking quietly to Laserbeak, Wildrider and Beachcomber silently muttering to themselves, and Ratchet and Knock Out continuing their argument at lower decibels. Finally, at 7:50 Hoist asked a question. "How do you think Rewind is going to be?"

"Oh, boy, him," Knock Out muttered. "You think gestaltmates are bad, Conjunx Enduras are worst."

"He is, unfortunately, right," Ratchet muttered. "While gestaltmates have each other to help themselves out with their connections, Conjunx Enduras only have themselves. The impact of a loved one's death will be greater on them."

"So, things are looking grim for Rewind," Hoist muttered.

"Yes, unfortunately. I have Hound watching over him in case something happens to him."

"Hmphf, love. What a waste of time," Bludgeon muttered.

"Sounds like someone doesn't get fragged," Skywarp murmured to Laserbeak.

"Foolish one, be silent," he talked down to him.

"Someone's touchy," Smokescreen murmured.

"I'm not. I just don't understand why anyone would burden themselves with it. Seems like it would cause more harm in the long run," Bludgeon explained himself.

"Why do you think like that?" Beachcomber asked him.

"Some people just don't understand love," Knock Out told him.

"There's a difference between love and attention," Ratchet told him.

"Hey!"

"GHOST!" Skywarp shouted, pointing at the energon room door.

"What?" Ratchet asked, looking at him oddly. "Have you been ingesting things you shouldn't be?"

"No, I'm saying that THERE'S A GHOST IN THERE!" Skywarp told them, glaring at the room.

"Oh, for the love of," a voice said as the door opened showing nothing before Mirage appeared, uncloaking himself. "It's just me. I just wanted to get my cube and get out."

"Oh, sorry," Skywarp muttered, awkwardly rubbing his head.

"Well, why don't you come sit with us?" Hoist asked him. "We'll be exploring the new area soon and it could have something you like."

"Might as well. I don't see any point of heading off on my own now, since you've saw me," he grumpily said, taking a seat. "So, what new ways to kill each other will you think the next area will have?" he asked them.

"Straight to the point, are you?" Ratchet mentioned.

"Just saying what's on everyone's mind," he told them, softly rubbing his cube of energon.

"Well, we're trying not to be completely cynical," he told him, taking a swig of the energon.

"Huh, never thought I would hear you said that," Mirage muttered.

"Considering the circumstances, it's best to be at least a little optimistic in order to not go insane," Ratchet explained. "That bears wants up to be cynical enough to kill anyone to escape and I'd rather not fall for his trap."

"Huh, I guess I can follow that," Mirage agreed, "but you still have got to be cynical enough to distrust everyone here, lest you get a knife in you back."

"True, which is why I wasn't disagreeing with your statement," Ratchet told him. "Considering the previous areas, I'm not quite sure what the next area will have. Could be anything."

"Well, we have only a few minutes before we head out," Bludgeon said, looking at the time. "7:55."

"I can't wait! It should be awesome," Wildrider said in anticipation.

"Well, we already got a bar, so I'm good," Smokescreen murmured.

"I may have to get a drink there with you soon," Hoist told him.

"Hey, that's fine with me. I could always use more drinking buddies," Smokescreen consented with a tip of the cube before finishing it.

"Humph, don't you have better ways to past time," Bludgeon questioned them. "At least the nihilist doesn't drink away his sorrows."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Dead End muttered silently, flicking through his datapad slowly.

"Still, just because we're still alive doesn't mean we're all done. We still need to find a way out," Knock Out told them.

"And we need to figure out who attacked Scavenger," Ratchet told them. "Whoever had done that is still a threat to everyone here and is a probable serial killer."

"That's not the only thing we have to worry about," Hoist murmured.

"Huh? What's that supposed to mean?" Ratchet questioned him.

"Oh yeah. There's a-" Wildrider was about to say.

"Silence you!" Dead End told him, glaring him down.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry," Wildrider muttered.

"Thank you, Dead End," Hoist thanked him.

"Wait, what are you three keeping from us?" Bludgeon questioned them.

"Uh, we'll tell you later," Hoist answered him.

"What are you keeping from us?" Mirage asked them, staring them down.

"Yeah. That's very suspicious," Skywarp agreed, Laserbeak nodding in agreement.

"We'll explain later," Hoist said, getting up. "It's almost 8:00. It's obvious no one else will be getting up. We might as well go to the new area and recon it."

"You're just going to brush it aside?" Bludgeon asked him, getting up.

"Yes. Trust me, you will be informed later, but as of now, we can't. Too dangerous."

"Huh, well, I think you've got all of us intrigued," he muttered, heading out of the room. "Now then, let's examine the new building!"

The group traveled to the interconnecting hallway via the first floor and arrived at the door. The group glanced at each other with suspicion before Ratchet reached forward to open the door. "Well, best figured out what's inside," he muttered, wrenching it open and everyone entering the building.

"Huh? Three new sections?" Bludgeon said, glancing at the entrances for them. Each entrance had a sign above them, telling them what the new area was.

"A med-bay," Knock Out said with anticipation.

"A repair bay?" Hoist whispered with equal anticipation.

"And a casino? Oh, hell yes!" Smokescreen shouted with glee. "Move over bar, I got a new favorite place."

"What an… odd place to put something like this," Beachcomber muttered. "We were supposed to teach students, not get them addicted to gambling."

"Let's be honest, was this place really meant to be used to educate people?" Knock Out asked him.

"According to those newspaper articles, yeah," Beachcomber reminded him.

"Oh yeah, that's another mystery we have to solve," he agreed.

"Well, I don't know about you guys, but I'm hitting the casino," Smokescreen told them with a smirk as he stride over there. The rest looked at each other when he made that statement and split-up, each of them heading to an area that stroked their interest.

"Well, nice to see the med-bay is very well equipped," Ratchet said, looking the white place over. There was diagrams all over the place about different types of Cybertronian anatomy and instructions on what to do in various situations. Table to place patients were strung around the five story place, making it very good at holding patients and medical equipment were all around the area with different operations in mind.

"Agreed," Knock Out consented. "This is top grade and very big. This must be where we taught people heading into the medical field."

"It looks… sterile," Beachcomber muttered, looking the place over.

"No kidding. If it isn't sterile what's the point of it even existing?" Knock Out questioned him, closely examining a scalpel before pointing it at Ratchet. "Which is another reason I want to clean you. Can you imagine trying to perform surgery on someone the way you look right now?" he questioned him.

"Hey, I keep myself clean. Just because I don't look flawless doesn't mean I'm not clean," Ratchet explained to him.

"Yes, but it would go a long way towards comforting them," he reminded him.

"I wondered how many thought you were comforting before they died under your care," Ratchet badgered him.

"Hey, the only ones that died under my care were the ones I disliked. You know it had nothing to do with my skills," he chided him.

"Do you guys always argued like this?" Beachcomber asked them, cutting into their argument..

"Eh, it can't be helped," Knock Out said with a shrugged. "We're two extremely different people so conflict is bound to happen."

"He's right. We could be in two entirely different professions and we'll still argue with each other about each other about something," Ratchet agreed.

"Do you even like each other?" Beachcomber asked them.

"I like to think we respect each other's capabilities in the field," Ratchet told him, "when one of the medics isn't acting like a placebo."

"I agreed, even if one of them looks like they haven't cleaned themselves up in ages," Knock Out consented.

"I swear, you never stop insulting each other," Beachcomber muttered, looking over the drug cabinet. "I just hope you don't kill each other."

"Oh, trust me, we already talked about what would happen if we escapes by sending everyone to their doomed and we came to a mutual agreement to work together to investigate murders if they occur."

"Which they tend to happen at an uncomfortable frequency around here," Ratchet said.

"Don't worry. With the two of us working together, no murderer will get away with their crime," Knock Out told him.

"I would love to believe that, but each murder gets trickier than the last one. Who says we won't fail when the next one occurs," Ratchet reminded him.

"Ah, Ratchet, you underestimate our abilities. Come on, we're all the best in our field. If a killer think they will get away with a murder, they have another thing coming. Even if Nightbeat decides to kill someone, we'll catch him in the act," Knock Out optimistically told him.

"Well, excuse me for being a realist, but we have to take every course of action into account. Anyone is capable of killing, even if it's intentional, as we've seen with Brawl and Chromedome, and when place in a corner, they will do anything to win and survive, even if that means killing the rest of us," Ratchet explained to him. "We have to be wary of everyone. The strangers, your friends, and even ourselves."

"Ourselves?" Beachcomber asked, confused. "What do we have to be so afraid about ourselves?"

""I think I get it," Knock Out muttered. "Let's be honest, we've all thought about killing someone to escape. We've just decided not to." Beachcomber was about to speak up, Knock Out spoke again. "If you say you haven't, you're only lying to yourself." At that, Beachcomber grewed quiet before deciding to speak.

"But, I'm a pacifist," he reminded him.

"And that pause was you confirming that you have thought about killing someone to escape, right?" Knock Out questioned him. Beachcomber looked away and stared guiltily at the floor. "That's what I thought. You can't denied the impossible. We all have a killer in us. Even pacifists like you have one."

"Plus, you couldn't escape the war without killing someone," Ratchet agreed, looking at Beachcomber. "I looked at your report. Four confirmed kills. Certainly one of the least here, but you've still killed."

"Everyone's killed. It's no secret," Knockout told him.

Beachcomber stayed silent, deciding that the ground was a nicer place to look at. "I-I guess…." was all that he said.

"This place is spectacular," Hoist said as he looked around the brown area. What was inside was a lot like the tool room but blown up to bigger proportions. Catwalks were around the area, meant for bigger projects, Doors heading outside of the building was locked tight with a door much like the main way into the building, armed with miniguns watching over it. Tools were all locked up in storage containers or hanged up on the wall neatly.

"I must admit, this is certainly… impressive," Mirage agreed, looking around the place.

"It looks very… wide," was all that Bludgeon had to say.

"Exactly why did you followed us?" Mirage asked him, suspicious.

"The casino is far too… destructive, causing people to financially destroyed themselves and despair, and a med-bay is something I've never been to nor do I plan on," Bludgeon told them. "Those are for the weak."

"Ah, so, process of elimination," Hoist said, looking around. "This place is dangerous. So many murder weapons…"

"Hammers, welders, blades of all sorts," Mirage murmured.

"And yet, none of those blades would make for a suitable replacement for my sword," Bludgeon murmured gravely.

"You care so much for your sword," Mirage noticed.

"I would prefer to have my original blade, as that was an inherited weapon, given to one master to another, but a well-made sword can serve as a suitable replacement," he told them, sizing Mirage up. "Why do you desire to come here? Hoist makes sense, as he specializes in repair, but you… you're too aristocratic."

"Oh, that. Huh, you're not the only one to think that," Mirage said with a chuckled. "Repairing and building things are a hobby of mine. Obviously, I'm not as good as Hoist, but I'm decent enough."

"He's the one who fixed the syringe, with some guidance from me for help," Hoist told Bludgeon.

"Hmm… you seem to have a natural talent for teach others," Bludgeon noticed.

"Well, I am pretty normal. I guess that makes me a less eccentric then most of the ones here," Hoist mention, examining a big object covered by a white sheet. "What's under here?" he said, grabbing it and pulling the white cloth, unveiling a incomplete vehicle. "Huh, it's incomplete."

"And not looking very safe to be near," Mirage mentioned, rubbing a protruding segment of it. "It looks like someone took a melee weapon and bashed parts of it. It explains some of the pieces of metal jutting out."

"So, who decided to vandalize it?" Bludgeon asked them.

"I don't know," Hoist murmured, climbing up the partially finished later to reach the cockpit of it. "Hmm, looks like a constructing device of some sort, judging from the panels. Most likely it is a behemoth," he said, looking at it closely before noticing a glove box. Intrigued, he opened it, showing a datapad. Hoist picked it up and looked it. "Huh? Well, I think I may have found more evidence that we may have teached at this school," he told them.

"What is it?" Mirage asked.

"Bludgeon, look at it," he told him, tossing it down. "It involves you."

"Really now," Bludgeon said, looking at it before his optics widening. "Well now, you're right."

"What is it?" Mirage asked.

"A fighting event featuring the students of Hope's Peak Academy where the students proved to be the very best of the best. Take a look at the mentors," he told him, showing it off. Mirage looked at it to find a pictured of Bludgeon, Drift and the recently deceased Brawl standing with the students.

"Well, that is a most interesting find," Mirage said, looking at it closely. "I most certainly didn't take you to teach students your fighting style."

"I shouldn't be," Bludgeon said, looking at the picture again. "Why would I even help them? The only reason I came was to figure out how they found me and then use that to avoid everyone. Why did I stay?"

"Well, it's becoming more and more telling that our memories were tampered with somehow," Hoist said, coming down from the behemoth. "The question is, by how much?"

"And why?" Mirage asked them. "Why do this? What's the purposed? It seems as if they are just doing this for kicks, but there has to be more behind it. Information that can only be found by digging deeper into the history of this school."

"And whomever has done this to us. We don't even know their identity. We need to figure that out before we can continue further on that end," Bludgeon mentioned.

"Exactly," Hoist agreed. "I just hope the answers aren't too bad."

"Oh, yes," Smokescreen said as he looked around the brightly lit area. All around were tables for various games and slot machines for people to bet their monocoins on with the monobots from before serving as dealers for the tables.. "This is my kind of place."

"Oh, yeah. This place is wonderful," Wildrider agreed.

"Wildrider, you know you will lose all of your money within a day," Dead End told him.

"No way, I feel lucky," Wildrider said, looking around before nudging Skywarp. "Hey, wanna hit the slots together."

"Ha-ha, nope," Skywarp told him. "I'm not as smart as I could be, but even I know better than to gamble."

"Huh, fool," Wildrider murmured before getting closer to Smokescreen. "So, wanna be partners?" he asked them.

"Uh, thanks, but I'd rather not associate myself with corpse desecraters," Smokescreen told him, taking a couple steps away from him.

"Aw, come on…" Wildrider grumbled, walking into the place by himself and hitting the slots.

"I swear, I don't feel comfortable with that psychopath walking around unrestrained," he told them.

"You'll get used to it," Dead End told him unsympathetically "I've lived with it for too long."

"I think I'm starting to know why you're so nihilistic all the time," Smokescreen told him, looking around the area. "Still, I'm not going to let that affect me."

"What's the point of this place?" Skywarp asked, looking around. "I mean, a repair bay and a med-bay, I can see in a school, but a casino? That really stretches the believability of it."

"Yeah, so. This is awesome," Smokescreen argued.

"Maybe, it was meant for the more adult members of the faculty," Dead End theorized to himself.

"That's probably it," Smokescreen agreed.

"Or, they had an ulterior motive," Dead End thought.

"What? Come on! What's the reason for that?" Smokescreen murmured.

"Oh, I think I know," Skywarp murmured. "They wanted to make a profit."

"Ah, you are capable of using that noggin of yours," Dead End noticed.

"Profit?" Smokescreen wondered. "What use would they have for that?"

"Whatever you want: additions to the building, additional salary for the staff, hookers and syk, whatever," Dead End told him. "It was probably a good way to make money off of the students."

"That's very cynical of you," Smokescreen murmured.

"Were you expecting anything different?" Skywarp asked him. "Dude expects the worse of everything."

"It's only the appropriate way to think things through," Dead End told him. "The worst is often the one that happens."

"Well, can we at least try to make that not what happens?" Smokescreen asked, heading off into the casino.

"'Try to make that not what happens?' I think the situation is already at its worst," Skywarp murmured, Laserbeak giving a sad nod in agreement.

"Yes, it is," Dead End agreed approvingly. "All we can do trudge on and try not to get killed on our way to the end."

"What's the end?"

"Simple: all but one dies."