"Well, this is interesting," Knock Out murmured as he looked at the corpses.

"And disgusting," Ratchet grumbled, looking the corpses over. "I don't see how we can get any information out of this."

"Well, at least we know for sure now that the killing games have happened before. We've only assumed until now that it has happened before," Perceptor reminded him.

"Which is an unfortunate tragedy," Ratchet told him. "Something this sadistic should've never happened in the first place."

"I think… I see some machines in the back," Nightbeat said, looking past the corpses.

"Hey, there is!" Bumblebee agreed. "Those are computers."

"Well, corpses and computers. How wonderful," Dead End remarked. "Should we split half-and-half and look both over? The bodies might have some info on them at the time of death that we can scavenge off them."

"That's… kind of gross," Nautilator murmured.

"Well, I've done it before and I can usually find some stuff on them," Scavenger mentioned, getting a queer look from most of them. "What?!"

"Never mind him. It's true that the bodies may have information and it's best to look over them as well," Nightbeat told them. "Let's divide up and look the place over."

"Okay, so… what are we doing?" Beachcomber asked Jazz as the two of them entered his room.

"I need to look over the statements of the serial killer suspects and see which of them have a solid alibi and lessen the list of suspects," Jazz told him. "I'm looking for an alibi at the 84 hour mark and between the 82-and-a-half and the 81-and-a-half mark."

"Oh, that. Well, I don't remember much about that. I was pretty busy being hopped up on anti-depressants and high-grade," Beachcomber told him.

"I guessed that," Jazz murmured as he look got six datapads out and placed them on the table. "Come take a look," he said as he took a seat. Beachcomber glanced nervously before taking a chair and placing it next to Jazz and took a seat.

"Okay, so, how's everybody alibi check out?"

"Well, let's look at it one at a time. Drift was by himself at the 84 hour mark and has a partial alibi from the 82 hour to near the 81 hour mark. His time for him to attack Scavenger is lessened by his alibi with Ratchet, but he has the time," Jazz explained.

"That, and he does have a seedy background, right?" Beachcomber asked.

"Pre-war, he was an obsessive drug addict and he probably did a lot of things for it, which may include murdering people for the money, but he does seem repentant for his past actions. I don't think he would try to hide it if he could," Jazz mentioned.

"Yeah, but he does seem very reactionary to his past self. He considers his past self dead, right? Well, he may want to do anything to keep it a dead," Beachcomber offered some insight.

"That's… very true," Jazz murmured. "Doubting him much?"

"I think this place is getting to me," Beachcomber murmured. "It's natural to doubt someone now."

"Yeah, right… anyway, looking at the testimony, Smokescreen looks clean. He's completely open during the timeframe where Scavenger was attacked, but he was with Blurr at the 84 hour mark," he told him.

"How long were they together?" he asked.

"From about the 87 mark to the 83 hour mark. No possible way he could overhear Scavenger revealing his secret while Blurr was keeping an eye on him," Jazz told him.

"'Keeping an eye on him?'" Beachcomber wondered. "Odd choice of words."

"Uh, anyway…," Jazz mumbled, trying to get to a different topic that didn't involve the mole hunt, "Bludgeon is a prime suspect. No alibi at either of the timelines and he has a very mysterious past. He's worked with Jhiaxus since before the war and could've done things for him that involved murdering people."

"Yeah, but, that doesn't seem like a terrible secret for him," Beachcomber murmured.

"Huh?" Jazz asked.

"I mean, let's be honest, he's a proud warrior who doesn't mind killing. Do you really think he would want to kill someone to protect the fact that he killed people? I don't think so," Beachcomber explained himself.

"That… actually make sense," Jazz agreed. "Good reasoning."

"Uh, thanks," Beachcomber humbly said.

"Alright, Nightbeat," Jazz said, looking him over. "Unaccountable at the 45 hour mark, but was see from 83 to 82 hours, leaving him with a thirty-minute window to attack Scavenger."

"I have no idea what his background is," Beachcomber muttered awkwardly.

"Well, he's a detective. Always been one since before the war. We'll put him in the unknown motive territory," Jazz said, brushing him aside for the last two suspects. "Blast Off and Swindle."

"They… probably stuck together, right?" Beachcomber asked.

"According to them, yes, but considering the circumstances, one could be lying for the other. Other than each other, Onslaught testifies to seeing them at the 81.45 hour mark and were accounted for after that, leaving them a rather large opening to attack Scavenger," Jazz informed him.

"Well, both probably have strong motives," Beachcomber said.

"Yes, but after losing Brawl and Vortex, I doubt either of them would act on attacking Scavenger, particularly Swindle."

"Yeah, that's true..," Beachcomber agreed. "So, we put them in the likely and the unlikely category, right?"

"Well, Smokescreen has a solid alibi, so it can't be him. Swindle and Blast Off account for each other and are emotionally invested in each other. So, we'll put them in the unlikely category," Jazz thought it through.

"The other three have the chance to attack Scavenger and they could have an unknown motive," Beachcomber said.

"Yeah, I'm leaning towards one of them," Jazz murmured.

"I really wish I could remember what happen that day," Beachcomber mumbled. "It's all a haze."

"Well, maybe it will get better. I heard a smack to the head can help," Jazz told him with a smile.

"Ha ha, very funny," Beachcomber grumbled.

"Hey, calm down. Everything's fine," Jazz tried to comfort him.

"Why?" he asked.

"Uh, well, no one's murdering each o-"

"That's not what I'm talking about," the geologist interrupted him.

"Oh…," Jazz murmured. "Than what do you want to know?" Beachcomber sat still, thinking it through, before answering:

"Why did Punch volunteer?" Beachcomber asked him.

"Oh, that…," the spy mumbled, feeling a little guilty. "Well, I'm not entirely sure. He was very loyal to the cause and was pretty smart. He was perfect for the project so we did the experiment on him."

"That's all?" Beachcomber asked gloomily. "He was chosen because he was loyal, smart, and he volunteered?"

"Yeah, that's about it," Jazz murmured, the two going into an awkward silence. The two stayed quiet as Jazz collected the datapads and put them back up. "Okay, well, you have been very helpful. Thanks."

"Alright," Beachcomber mumbled, getting up. "I… think I'll head to my room." He headed for the door.

"Hey, wait," Jazz told him, causing him to pause.

"What?" he asked in what Jazz knew was contempt.

"I'm just… really sorry, okay. We needed a mole and Punch was ideal. We just didn't think that Counterpunch would get so in control… He was a good 'Bot," Jazz comforted him. Beachcomber gazed at the ground before replying.

"Thanks. I-I… already knew that," he said, heading for the door.

"Alright… just, uh, if you need me, I'll be around," Jazz told him. "Don't be by yourself for an extended amount of time."

"Yeah, understood," Beachcomber murmured, leaving the room. Jazz glanced at where he was before laying himself on the berth. He could use a little nap to get his thoughts in line.

"Hmm, I think he was one of my… 'students,'" Bludgeon murmured, examining a corpse that was beaten beyond recognition, barring some of his face.

"Huh, there really isn't much left to tell that," Nautilator mentioned, looking at the corpse.

"It's not his face that I recognize him, it's how he died. Judging by the state of it, I say that he was executed," Bludgeon told him.

"Oh, so you're saying he was a fighter and was executed by being beaten to death," Nautilator realized.

"Correct," Bludgeon confirmed. "With that in mind, the face does barely resemble the one in the datapad we found in the behemoth. "

"Aw, makes sense," Nautilator agreed, looking through the corpse's possession in subspace when he died as Bludgeon watched. "Hmm, I think I got something," Nautilator said, fishing it out to reveal a datapad.

"What is in it?" Bludgeon asked.

"Let me see here," Nautilator looked at what was inside. "It's a journal."

"Ah, really now?" Bludgeon asked, interested.

"Yeah. It documented his time in the killing game," Nautilator replied, looking it through. "It starts roughly after the second trial of his game onto a little before the sixth trial," he told him.

"Hmm, it looks like the thirty of his were quite smart," Bludgeon murmured.

"I… don't think it was thirty," Nautilator told him. "He said there was 12 students left at the beginning of this journal."

"Twelve? Assuming there was one victim and culprit each case, that would mean there was 16 at the start of his killing game," Bludgeon surmised.

"Yeah. Strange how they have less than us," Nautilator murmured.

"Nightbeat did say that there were around sixty corpses here. Assuming fifteen of the sixteen were killed, that would leave around sixty after four games, correct?" Bludgeon thought it through.

"Hey, yeah… that has to be the amount!"

"Well then, this must be the fifth game," Bludgeon realized.

"It should be," Nautilator agreed.

"It ended at just before the sixth trial, correct?"

"Yeah. He talked about killing someone, but didn't specified how. He wasn't doing too well when the murder occurred…"

"What do you mean?" Bludgeon asked, intrigue.

"The motive apparently made him insane as he just types 'Remembered everything. All hope gone," over and over again until the killing. Then he just mentions that his suffering would soon be over after that," Nautilator read off ominously. "What the heck did he mean by that?"

"Apparently, his memories, as well as the others, were probably taken as well and it was restored to him as a motive," Bludgeon surmised.

"Yeah… wait, why would the memories incite him to kill?" Nautilator asked him.

"Now that is a good question to ask," Bludgeon murmured.

"So, should we show this off?" Nautilator asked.

"Of course, you imbecile. We'll just do it after everybody's done searching and we regroup with each other," the metallikato expert told the (un)luckster. "Now then, let's search the rest for any more clues.

"So, this is the casino…," Hound said as he looked around the brightly lit area.

"Wow… how often do you think Smokescreen is going to be in here?" Rewind asked.

"Far too often," he replied with a chuckled and looked around with a short smile. "So, a school with a casino. Obviously, this place isn't as formal as a lot of schools used to be."

"Yeah. I kind of wonder why," the archivist said, looking around. "Do you think we did good?"

"Good?" Hound asked, his smile slipping as he wondered what he was talking about.

"As teachers, you know… before we lost our memories," Rewind said, looking a bit forlorn.

"Huh, I said that we probably did, for however long we did it," Hound said, looking around. "After all, we were the shining beacons of hope, according to the letter."

"Yeah…," Rewind murmured, looking around. "How did they take our memories anyway?"

"Well, you would need a mnemosurgeon, so Chrome-"

"Shut it!" Rewind said threateningly. "Chromedome wouldn't do something like that. It had to be someone else that did it to us." Rewind calmed down and looked around the area. "After all, who would even worked for the mastermind? That sick bastard locked us all in here. None of us would even think to work with him," he ranted.

"Yeah, that's a fair point. I don't see how anybody could work for Monobear," the preservationist agreed. "So, the mastermind either did it themselves or they contracted someone else to do it."

"You know, I heard Chromedome talking about another skilled mnemosurgeon before. Some guy named Trepan. Chromedome said he was shady, but definitely knew his way around the head almost as much as him. He might be the one who took our memories!" Rewind said, coming upon an epiphany. "He might be the mastermind himself."

"We have no proof of that," Hound remind him. "I say that he is a probable candidate for taking our memories, but we can just out and blame him for trapping us here with no evidence."

"Well, what else are we supposed to do?!" Rewind asked him. "In case you haven't noticed, evidence for the bastard who trapped us here is practically nonexistent. All that we can do is randomly guess," Rewind angrily pointed out before calming down again. "Dammit, I'm losing it…," Rewind mumbled to himself. Hound glanced at the small 'Bot before leaning in to comfort him.

"Hey, it's okay. If I was in your position, I would be angry too," Hound said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Chromedome wouldn't want you all hot and bother like this."

"I know. It's just that… I really want my hands around that bastard's neck!" Rewind shouted, letting some of his anger out. "I'll survive. I just want him dead!"

"Everyone does. We just have to work together to get to him," Hound told him.

"Yeah, I know we are. The question is, how many more of us is going to have to die to get to him?" Rewind asked.

Hound didn't answer that.

"Come on, you stupid computer, reveal to me your secrets," Bumblebee said as he continue to try to find any new information from the machine.

"Of course talking to it will bring forth information," Mirage sarcastically remarked to the scout.

"At least I'm trying," Bumblebee remarked to him as he lazily searched through the device of his.

"I find slow and steady to be more successful that wild and loose," he told him.

"Is that a challenge?" Bumblebee asked him.

"NO, because I will get the information we need before you," Mirage told him, still lazily searching along.

"Yeah, right…," Bumblebee muttered, still searching through the device. The two continue what they were doing in silence, neither making a comment and leaving the noise to the other occupants to make ("Hey, I think I found something useful!" "Wildrider, that's a leg." Exactly!"). Around five minutes later, Bumblebee growled out, "Ugh, this is useless! There's absolutely nothing on this thing. I might as well dip my feet in lava and dance a-"

"Got information," Mirage said, bored.

"…Say what?" Bumblebee asked him, coming closer to look at the screen.

"I'm not quite sure what to make of it, but it looks like the facility use it to throw away dead bodies while they wait for a safe time to get them out of the school," he told him.

"Huh, so the mastermind has to get the bodies out, right?" he asked him.

"No, this data isn't related to the mutual killing games, but back to when the school was still operational, as it makes several mentions to the going-ons of the school at the time and explicitly mentions the dead bodies as the results of experiments at the school," Mirage informed him.

"What?!" Bumblebee shouted, startled.

"Whatever experiments went on in this school, we'll only find out by reaching the next building," Mirage told him.

"Is there nothing on them here?" Bumblebee asked.

"No and I highly doubt they were uploaded to the archives as they probably wanted to keep this quiet," Mirage told him.

"What the… what the hell was going on here?" Bumblebee asked.

"I don't know, but some shady stuff had to have happened here," Mirage told him.

"Do you think… that we might be involve in that?" Bumblebee asked, worried about his lost memories.

"I'm… uncertain," Mirage asked, a bit shaken up by the knowledge. "There is no mention of us in the disposal of the bodies, but we might've still been involved somehow…,"he asked, leaving it off on a sorrow note.

"Do you think… that this might be a motive for doing this to us?" Bumblebee asked. "Did we… agreed to these experiments for some reason?"

"I don't know," was Mirage's answer, "but it's certainly something to consider."

"I just… don't understand it. This place was supposed to be a beacon for hope! Why was slag like this happening?" Bumblebee asked, not understanding it.

"I… don't know," Mirage said, calming him down, "but we must not let this affect us. This is just another mystery for us to solve later on down the line," he finished confidently, but with some trepidation.

"Murders, experiments, friends dying… this is all too much," Bumblebee muttered, holding his head. "Why is all of this happening?"

"We'll find out. Just give it time," Mirage.

"Yeah. Time and a few more dead bodies."

At around three, everyone was back at the lunchroom, discussing what they found. Everyone listened to each other discussing what they found, paying particular attention to Bludgeon and Nauilator's journal and Mirage and Bumblebee's notes as the place being a place to temporally hold bodies from experiments.

"What the hell?" Skywarp asked bluntly. "Why does this place have a room to store bodies?" Skywarp asked everybody.

"For their questionable experiments, which we know nothing about," Ratchet surmised. "We have to hope to find the lab to this facility soon so we can find more answers for our added questions.

"That motive has got me confused," Blurr said. "Retaining your memories incites you want to kill? Why would they cause that?"

"Why do you even want to know?" Hoist asked, frustrated. "At this rate, I would be perfectly fine with not obtaining memory if we were involved in these experiments."

"Hey, there's no proof that we took part in those experiments," Rewind remind him. "They've could've been done behind our backs."

"We've had to find out about it sooner or later during our work there. At that point, it's impossible to say what we did," Knock Out told him.

"It's the most reasonable idea of what happen," Mirage agreed.

"But, we would never approve of this, right?" Beachcomber asked. "Most of us are better than that."

"Maybe, but it's very suspicious," Jazz muttered. "We'll have to think about it. We should be free of any motives today and maybe tomorrow, so let's stay calm. No one should want to kill anybody, hopefully."

"Yeah, hopefully," Skywarp muttered, softly rubbing Laserbeak's head.

"Well done, should we head to the archives?" Hound asked the group.

"Yeah, it's probably the best thing to do," Onslaught agreed.

"Alright, then let's go," Jazz ordered. "We might be able to find something."

"What a waste of time," Jazz muttered sadly as he took a seat at one of the tables at the mall. It was fast approaching five and the archives yielded exactly nothing, which made Jazz want to strangle someone out of frustration. After all this time, he thought he might actually be able to find something at the library and that-

BONK!

"OW!" Jazz yelped as he rubbed his head and turned to see what was that.

"Sorry," Bumblebee chuckled, picking up a solid, metal ball from the ground with his hand. "Didn't catch it."

"Playing catch?" Jazz asked.

"Yeah," Bumblebee said, turning and throwing the ball over to Smokescreen, who catch it easily.

"Trying to relax?" Jazz asked, standing up and taking his place next to him.

"Of course. We've haven't really relax much since that party where Soundwave killed Shockwave," Smokescreen told him, tossing it to Bumblebee, who caught it this time. "You want to join in?"

"Nah. I think I'll just go to my room," Jazz said.

"Oh, come on," Bumblebee muttered, tossing it to Smokescreen, "you've been working too hard. Just relax and catch this ball."

"Ugh… fine. Toss it over here, Smoke," Jazz told him.

"Alright…," Smokescreen said, tossing it with a lot of quickly position himself where the ball was going to be and…

It disappeared with a blur.

"What the heck?" he asked looking around the area. "Where did the ball go?"

"Up here, morons!" a voice yelled, causing the three of them to look up at Skywarp on the second floor, tossing the ball up and catching it to himself with Laserbeak on the railing watching the two. "Laserbeak is a really good fetcher!" he bragged, giving his pet a look of admiration.

"Toss it back down here, you slagger!" Bumblebee yelled at the flyer. Skywarp tossed the ball up and down for a few moments before giving a nudge of his shoulders and tossing it high and past Bumblebee. The scout quickly ran backward to catch the ball and jumped, catching the ball, but not before landing on a table and flipping it over.

"Ha ha ha! Oh, that's hilarious," Skywarp laughed to himself.

"Yeah, I'm sorry 'Bee, but that was fragging funny," Smokescreen chuckled to himself. Jazz was chuckling two, the laughter from the other two infectious.

"Oh, I'm going to kill you, Skywarp!" Bumblebee shouted at him.

"Are we being literal or figurative?" Skywarp asked, not taking him seriously.

"Uh, I'll kill you literally once we're out of this place," Bumblebee shouted at him, putting the table in its original position and heading back to Jazz. "Now get out of here!"

"Huh, fine. I'll go bother someone else," Skywarp said, walking off with Laserbeak in tow.

"Ugh, why did he had to do that?" Bumblebee asked.

"Obviously, he's making himself feel better," Smokescreen chuckled, "as well as me."

"Oh, shut up," Bumblebee ordered, throwing the ball.

Hoist stayed silent as he followed Perceptor. It was nearing six, which meant that they would have to reconvene back at the lunchroom soon. Perceptor had broken away from everyone else and was heading off by himself somewhere. Hoist, still wondering if he was the mole or not, followed along, wondering if he was going to meet with the Mastermind of the whole thing. He followed him until he went to the dorm rooms and entered Shockwave's rom, which interested Hoist. 'Why is he in there?" Hoist thought to himself before following and listening in to what was going on in there.

"Hey, are you here?" Perceptor asked quietly.

"Not physically, but yes," said a voice that sounded like it was coming from the intercom.

"Alright, what can you tell me about the mastermind?" Perceptor asked.

"Huh? Who could Perceptor be talking too if it's not the mastermind. Could it be… that AI?"

"Hmm, now that wouldn't be quite fun, would it?" the AI taunted.

"Well done, what use is there for me coming here?" he asked it.

"Because I can give you advice, which is very important, considering your situation," he reminded him. "The next motive will be coming the day after tomorrow, so use your time with your allies wisely before they start becoming your enemies."

"The motive? Do you know what it is?" Perceptor asked it.

"Of course, but that would be spoiling too much. I got to have some fun, of course," the AI denied his information.

"You know, don't think this alliance isn't going to be as fruitful as I once hoped," Perceptor deadpanned.

"That's because this isn't an alliance. I don't need you and it would be much faster to get someone to kill you," he explained to Perceptor. "Now then, get out."

"Huh. Rude," Perceptor muttered, walking towards the entrance. Hoist quickly got away from the dorm quietly and headed down the steps, wondering what to do with this information.

Dinner came and everyone attended. The dinner was just idle talk among everyone as they discuss what to do tomorrow. They eventually agreed to do something as a group tomorrow to raise everyone's spirits, although exactly what was still unknown.

At ten, Ratchet shuffled along to his room, tired and ready for recharge. He walked across the mall's ground floor, on his way to the library. No one else was around and he was enjoying the silence for now. Most of the group had made their way to the rooms and were recharging right now. All that was elft for Ratchet to do today was to reach his room.

THUD!

Ratchet jumped as heard a sound and turned to see a overturn plant. Ratchet wondered what could possibly cause that. "Hello? Anyone there?" Ratchet asked. He waited to see if anybody would respond, but it was all quiet. Nothing made a noise. "Okay, maybe I'm paranoid. It's nothing. Plants knock themselves over any time and you're making vain excuses to yourself to keep yourself from going insane," Ratchet mumbled to himself. "I need to head to my room before someone decides to stick a knife in my back like Counterpunch."

Clack

"What the-" Ratchet said, looking around. "Okay, I know someone's here. Now show yourself!" Ratchet said, trying to be brave. Once again, no one answered his call. Quickly, faster than most people can detect, Ratchet ran out before anyone could catch him, not wanting to be attacked..

As he left, the sound of footsteps walked off to somewhere else in the mall.