"And how is everyone this morning?" Jazz asked everyone as they met up at the cafeteria again for the day.
"Fine, I guess," Bumblebee spoke for his group.
"We are doing fine as well," Perceptor answered, ignoring the less than clean looks the aristocrats were giving at each other.
"We're good," Smokescreen answered with a thumbs up.
"Alright, good," Jazz sighed in relief. "We made it through the night."
"This time," Dead End murmured.
"Ignoring the cynic," Wildrider grumbled, glaring at his gestaltmate, "are we going to actually do anything fun today?"
"We'll keep doing what we were doing yesterday: stay in our groups and make sure nothing happens."
"Uh, can I give a suggestion?" Smokescreen asked.
"Huh?" Jazz muttered. "Is there anything wrong with how we're doing things?"
"Uh, I just want to briefly combine my group with Perceptor's group," Smokescreen said.
"Is there any particular reason why you want to do that?" Perceptor asked him, confused.
"Uh… reasons?" Smokescreen asked with a sheepish smile.
"Oh, for the love of…," Jazz grumbled. "Can you name one of those reasons?'
"Well…," Smokescreen nervously try to think of one.
"Because he wants to help me," Hoist told him, cutting in. "I… need to talk to Mirage."
"Huh?" Mirage gasped, turning his gaze over to him. "You… want to talk?
"Yeah… in private," Hoist told him.
"Well, while that is understandable, I have to keep you sep-"
"There's cameras in the mall that we haven't taken down. We can use that to watch each other with the bigger group," Mirage covered for him.
"You remembered that?" Hoist asked.
"I helped with that, didn't I?" he remind him, before turning to Jazz. "Let us be grouped together, please."
"Urg…," Jazz grumbled, thinking it through carefully before he gave an answer. "Fine."
"Alright," Smokescreen said, getting up. "Let's go out."
"I wouldn't have let them pair up," Nightbeat told Jazz as they were hanging out in the library.
"I know, but they're in a secure area. I think they will be fine," Jazz told him, looking up some datapads.
"So you say, but given enough determination and desperation, people will do anything, regardless of the circumstances. "
"I know," he murmured, "but I want to trust them enough for this."
"Of course you do," Bludgeon mocked. "It's best just to keep them apart from each other."
"You gotta keep 'em separated," Nautilator told him.
"Hey, we can trust them… I think," Onslaught 'defended'.
"Whatever," Nightbeat murmured. After that, there was a brief silent before the only one who haven't spoke up talked.
"So… what are we doing looking up datapads?" Beachcomber asked. "It feels like we've been here and done this already."
"Well, I want to go back into the archives today and I consider this a warm-up," Jazz told them.
"We've haven't been there in a while, I must admit," Bludgeon agreed, "but do we still have too? We've barely made any progress in our search for information despite having all the information on our hands."
"He has a point," Beachcomber murmured. "We've kinda hit a brick wall… or whatever these walls are made of," he pointed out, looking around at the unnaturally hard walls.
"I know, but spend enough time chiseling at it and we'll get through it," he tried to encourage of them.
"Do we have the time?" Nightbeat questioned him.
"Uh, well, I hope so," Jazz awkwardly chuckled.
"Hmph," Nightbeat grumbled.
"Well, if you think so, it's worth a try," Onslaught assented. "Anything that can get my soldiers out of here is worth a try."
"Well, it's worth trying if it can help us get out," Nautilator agreed.
"As much as I think it will lead us to nowhere, I'm not know to just give up and die," Bludgeon remarked.
"Well, we got nothing to do, so we might as well try," Beachcomber agreed. "This place is pretty boring once you get past the murders and the chance that someone will kill you."
"…Ugh, I might as well quit being cynical and hope for the best," Nightbeat agreed. "Fine, when do we search?"
"How about an hour?" Jazz asked everybody.
"Works fine," Nightbeat agreed with everyone else assenting.
"Alright, let's warm-up."
"Alright, why are we in the lounge?" Ratchet questioned Drift as him, Drift, Bumblebee, and Scavenger sat at a table in the third-floor lounge. Wildrider was in the back messing around with a string instrument of some sort and Skywarp was busy feeding Laserbeak and himself some extra energon.
"Relaxing, of course," Drift said, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his back. "We can't be paranoid all the time."
"Can we… just relax a little bit?" Scavenger asked him, munching on some spare oil balls.
"Well, I guess we can," Ratchet murmured, looking sour. "Just don't blame me if someone dies."
"Relax, we're all in a room together and we're all relatively pleasant with each other," Bumblebee told him, glaring at Wildrider doodling around with the instrutment. "Relatively."
"Hey, morons," Skywarp greeted them as he took a seat in-between Ratchet and Scavenger with Laserbeak resting on his shoulder and a cube in his hand. "What's going on?"
"Ratchet being a grumbler," Drift answered, ignoring the insult.
"So, nothing new," Skywarp said before taking a drink his cube.
"I hate to be the new Dead End, but it's reasonable," Ratchet remarked. "The only one I can trust is myself and Drift. Maybe you as well." He pointed at Bumblebee.
"Why can't you trust anyone else?" Drift asked. "Surely you can trust the other Auto-"
"Chromedome," he interrupted, shutting up Drift before he could finish the sentence. "He was one of ours and he had Rewind with him and he still killed someone. If he could crack, than anyone can." The group stayed silent as Ratchet's point was made. Ratchet got up as they contemplated what he said and went to the bar. "I need a drink," he murmured, leaving them alone. The four of them watched as he retrieved some low-grade behind the bar and started sipping one.
"Who do you guys trust the most here?" Drift asked suddenly, catching everybody by surprised, before someone responded.
"Why do you want to know that?" Skywarp asked, looking suspicious.
"Because, well… Ratchet is not doing so good right now and we all got people we care about in here right? I figure we all agree to watch over them for each other, you know?" Drift asked them.
"Well, Mixmaster and me are both part of a gestalt, although it really isn't much. I want me and him to at least get out of here alive, even though it isn't likely," Scavenger told them.
"Well, since you already claimed Ratchet, I guess I'll take Perceptor. He may be overly smart, but I like him a lot," Bumblebee said.
"Eh, I couldn't give two scraps who lives or dies, as long as me and Laserbeak get outta here," Skywarp said, rubbing the latter gently. "However, if you force me to choose, I guess I prefer it if Nightbeat gets out with me. He got me off the hook for Shockwave's murder and that makes him okay with me."
"Well, alright, I guess those were the answers I expected," Drift murmured.
"You know, instead of worrying about our friends, we should worry about everyone. We got to make sure we get as many people out alive as we can," Bumblebee told him.
"I know. It's just that… losing Ratchet would be a terrible thing, you know," the swordsman replied.
"I know, it's hard for me to properly describe it, but it would be hard for me to deal with it."
"Hey guys!" Wildrider yelled, jumping over the back of a chair and taking a seat where Ratchet was. "How's it going?"
"Oh, you. Nothing much," Bumblebee muttered in disdain. "Why are you here?"
"Oh, I just came here to throw in my two cents since you guys are all doing it," the manic mentioned casually.
"Two cents?" Drift asked.
"Simple. In the event that I die or murder someone and you find out, make sure the cynical gestaltmate of mine gets out, alright?" he requested of them.
"Uh, sure, I-"
"Nuh-uh-uh. Pinky swear on it," he told them, leaning forward and sticking his pinky out. "All together." The group awkwardly looked at each other before reluctantly doing as he told, wanting to get him out of here as fast as possible. The group interlocked their pinkies as one and each of them giving a firm shake of their pinkies before retracting it back quickly. "Thanks guys. See you later," Wildrider thanked them before jumping up and heading back to his section.
"Well," Bumblebee muttered, "that officially goes down as the weirdest thing I've ever done."
"Ditto, and I've done a lot of strange things," Skywarp agreed.
"Now then," Perceptor murmured, looking at everyone, "the twelve of us are here at the mall. What now?"
"Well, how about we pair up?" Smokescreen asked them. "Me and you; Hoist and Mirage; Swindle and Blast Off; Rewind and Hound; Dead End and Blurr; and Mixmaster and Knock Out?"
"Well, I guess that works well enough. Are we all in agreement?" he questioned everybody. Everybody gave either a nod, a simple yes, or a meh that show that they didn't cared. "Alright, then pair up and separate."
"Why exactly do you want to help Hoist and Mirage so much?" Perceptor asked as he stared into the security camera monitors that they elected to do. So far, everyone was just hanging around and talking to each other.
"Eh, I don't know. I kinda like the guy," Smokescreen shrugged.
"Hmm, he seems very nondescript, aside from his repairing skills," the scientist noted.
"Well, yeah, and I think that's why I like him. He's so average it's impossible to hate him," Smokescreen muttered. "Plus, I find his and Mirage friendship cheesy in the good way. Snobby, haughty upper-classman friends with the everyman? It has classic fairy tell written all over it," he answered.
"Hmm, I guess, although Blast Off sure loves to bug himself in-between those two," Perceptor noted. "Probably classist."
"More than likely," Smokescreen shrugged. "Probably hates being with the Combaticons."
"He probably used to, but you saw him after Vortex and Brawl's death, right? He cared for them," he reminded him.
"Ugh, yeah, I remember," the gambler said. "Actually felt really bad for them."
"As did I… made me worry that some of my friends will die."
"Any of them dead?"
"Chromedome, I guess. We used to be colleagues before we branch off into different paths of science. Didn't think he actually kill somebody," Perceptor murmured glumly.
"Well, at least it wasn't a murder, like Monokuma insists that it was. He did it to protect Rewind," he said.
"I think that makes it worse," Perceptor replied, "especially for Rewind. He probably feels guilty over that."
"Well… yeah," Smokescreen shrugged. "Hound's basically Rewind's 24/7 suicide watch."
"He's doing a good job at that," Perceptor praised. "Rewind's demeanor has been getting better."
"Yeah, but he's never be the same. Hell, if any of us get out alive, we'll never be the same," he gloomily mentioned.
"'If?' How cynical," Perceptor scoffed.
"Yeah… sorry. I should keep my spirit. We are going to get out. I'll don't know if the rest of us will make it out, or if I will, but I know some of us will. We're too determine. After millions of years of war, we'll do anything for peace," Smokescreen encouraged himself.
"Okay, maybe too optimistic," Perceptor gave his judgment.
"It showed pretty easily, huh?" Smokescreen deflated. "It's impossible to be optimistic ere."
"You're right, but let's not be pessimistic. I don't think this building could handle any more Dead Ends," the scientist cheered him up.
"Ha! That's for sure. Thanks for that."
"So, how have you been?" Mirage asked Hoist as they looked around the repair store, eyeing the products.
"Uh, fine…," Hoist murmured, feeling awkward.
"Yeah. Same, considering the circumstances," he replied. "So, are we still friends?"
"I… still haven't decided," Hoist said.
"Well, I understand," Mirage murmured. Hoist easily noticed the sadness that was coming from his voice. "I guess it's good to think it through."
"I'm sorry, it's just that, with all that's going on, I've had other things to worry about," Hoist told him.
"Well, we're here. Let's talk it out," the aristocrat recommended, turning to him. "I want to be your friend."
"I know, but… this situation we're in is hell-bent on killing us. I… I don't want to be too heavily affected by it, and if I die, I don't want anyone else to be affected by it as well. I'm sorry, but if both of us make it out, then I'll gladly be friends with you," Hoist explained to Mirage. Mirage stared at Hoist with a defeated look before muttering something so low that Hoist couldn't hear it. "Are you okay?"
"Look… when is you turn at night?" Mirage asked.
"Uh, second," Hoist told him.
"Good, same as mine…."
"Mirage, what are you thinking?" the repairer asked him.
"Listen… do you think you can sneak out tonight at two and meet me in the repair bay?" Mirage asked. "I have something to give you, in case I don't make it."
"That's against the rule!" Hoist shouted, getting in his face. "Can't this wait?"
"No… I have to get you this tonight. Please, meet me there. I"ll convince Blast Off to let me go and you can convince… who's with you?"
"Listen, this is madness!"
"Who?"
"Smokescreen, now quit thinking about this!" Hoist yelled at him.
"Alright… you could bribe him with some monocoins. He's been racking those up," Mirage kept saying, ignoring him.
"Would you shut up about-"
"Hoist! Please, just do this. It'll only take a few minutes at the most and we'll be fine," Mirage begged him.
"But… but." Hoist couldn't decide about what he wanted to do. On the one hand, Mirage seemed exceptionally desperate and it was really suspicious. On the other hand, there's no way he would risk murdering him if Blast Off knew he would be out with him alone, so it was probably for another reason, such as that thing Mirage wanted to give him. "Fine," he gave in. "Once my shift starts, I'll try convincing Smokescreen to let me out to meet you. Don't wait there forever though, just in case someone else is out that night planning something."
"Hoist, no one else will be out that night. Nobody else will risk it. It'll just be the two of us and everything will be fine," Mirage comforted him, laying a hand on his shoulder. "No one will interfere."
"I hope you're right."
"Why the frag are you picking fights with people in a situation like this?" Swindle berated Blast Off as the two of them examine datapads in the reading store. Swindle was currently looking at a datapad titled 'Make Money Fast: 50 Easy Ways to Earn Cash,' while Blast Off was reading 'Internal Peace Against Absurdness: How to Calm Your Rage Around Idiots.' Both datapads were noted for their extreme popularity.
"I'm not picking fights, I'm just stating truths," he replied coolly, slowly looking through the datapad.
"Stating the truth is a good way to pick fights," he rebutted, being quicker with his datapad.
"Well, maybe, but I don't think I need to worry. Mirage knows that if he kills me, he'll be primary suspect number 1," the sniper replied.
"Yeah, unless somebody else here kills you so Mirage can act as a scapegoat," the salesmech argued.
"Well, that is a certain possibility, but I have a suspicion that someone will target Mirage instead of me. They would probably assume me to be the more likely to murder and pin the blame on me," Blast Off rebutted.
"Maybe, but it's still something I wouldn't chance," Swindle told him. "You're running the risk of somebody trying to kill you and I would be careful around these type of people. I don't trust any of them as far as I can throw them."
"And considering you're size, that isn't much," Blast Off mocked, poking fun of his short stature.
"Hey, watch it. I got feelings you know," he muttered, glaring at him.
"I know. That's what makes it so fun," the tall mech said, looking down on him.
"Yeah, whatever," Swindle murmured, putting the datapad up and Blast Off doing the same. The two walked off, heading for the exit.
"So, what happen between you and Onslaught about your snuff collection," Blast Off asked.
"Just to let you know, I sell them, not watch nor make them," he told him.
"Great, now quit dodging the question," he chided him.
"Well, if you must know," he said, fixing him a glare as they exited the store, "he gave me a rather stern lecture about ethics and how deprave snuff films are." Blast Off could practically feel Swindle rolling his optics. "I have no idea why he cares so much. We aren't boy scouts, we're trained mercenaries that engaged in a several million years war. Selling snuff films are small time compare to how war was."
"Hmm, true, but Onslaught can be an old-fashioned bot at times. He is older than a lot of people," Blast Off reminded him.
"I know, but still, there's bigger things to be worried about than selling snuff films on the side," he defended himself. "Where you wanna go?"
"Electronic store sound good?"
"I guess so."
"I heard good things about these oil balls. Let's try'em out," Hound said at the mall's tables as he opened up the bag and picked one out for him and Rewind. Hound quickly popped one in his mouth while Rewind retracted his faceplate and slowly put one in, being careful about the sweet. Both of them gave low groans of enjoyment before reaching in and quickly inserting them into their mouths, greedily enjoying them.
"Oh, this was a good idea," Rewind said in pleasure as he finished the oil ball.
"I see why Scavenger enjoys them so much," Hound agreed with him. The two of them continued their assault on the oil balls, consuming around ten each before taking a break. Hound looked pretty fine, but Rewind was groaning, his intakes upset. "Oooooooh, I think I ate too much," he moaned.
"Well, you are pretty small. You're designed to consume less than other mechs," he told him.
"Yeah… still hurts," the archivist complained.
"Oh cheer-up." Hound chuckled, patting his back good-naturedly.
"Oh, I think you're making it wooorse," Rewind moaned.
"Right, sorry," Hound chuckled, putting his hands up in a defensive position. "It was not my intention to hurt you."
"Yeah… too late," Rewind grumbled. "What's in those balls."
"I don't know, but they're pretty filling," the environmentalist said, rubbing his stomach area. "I'm pretty full as well, although not as much as you."
"Yeah… I think I'll take a nap," Rewind murmured.
"Well, let me take you to the sleeping area here and I'll nap with you," Hound told him.
"Thanks," he said, slowly getting up from the table with Hound following along. "Oh, my systems can't take this."
"It'll be fine. Just recharge it off so it can be diluted and you'll be fine."
"Oh, I hope you're right."
Surprisingly, the last two groups decided to hang out with each other and we're currently in the upgrades store, looking around. "An upgraded booster for increased speed? Now that sounds nice," Blurr said happily as he looked at it.
"Is there more than one?" Knock Out asked a little ways away from him, staring at a bunch of different paint jobs to see if any looked better than his.
"There sure is," he replied.
"Excellent."
"You two are talking like you expect to get out of here," Dead End murmured, Looking at a buffer. Could increase that shine…
"Well, excuse us for having some ambition," Knock Out chided, glaring at him. "Especially from someone who buffers almost as much as I do."
"I like to look proper," Dead End defended himself.
"A nihilist who likes to look proper? Yeah, right!" Blurr chuckled, glancing at him before looking at some other upgrades.
"It is the truth," Dead End shrugged.
"Do you also only drink healthy stuff? High-grade could spoil those little insides of yours," Knock Out mocked.
"I drink some every now and then," Dead End replied.
This session went on for a while, leaving Mixmaster hanging out by the entrance depressed.
At lunch, everybody regrouped back at the lunchroom. "So did you accomplish what you needed to do?" Jazz questioned Smokescreen.
"Did you and Mirage talk it out?" Smokescreen him.
"In a sense… I'll let you know more tonight, but we should be fine now," Hoist answered.
"Oh, goody. The divide has been lessen," Blast Off mocked next to Onslaught.
"We don't about what you have to say," Hoist backtalk to him.
"Oh my, is that aggression? You're actually a little interesting now," Blast Off continued to talk down to him.
"Oh, whatever," Hoist exasperated, "we're good for now. What else can we do?"
"Well, I guess we're good for now," Jazz murmured. "Is there any other things we gotta do?"
"I see no reason to group up and diverge from our groups," Perceptor told them.
"We're good," Bumblebee announced for his group.
"Same," Smokescreen assented.
"Okay, so we'll just hang around until night comes. After that, we go to out rooms and continue out shifts," Jazz told everyone. "I hope we all do good for the night."
The day went by like any other. Red Group spent the majority of their time in the mall and stuck together, although Onslaught and Nightbeat both disappeared for for a few minutes before showing up again. Yellow group stuck together in the med-bay, making sure everything was right there, with Ratchet and Drift keeping there distant from the others and were mostly talking with each other. Blue group hanged around in the library, rerading books to themselves and every now and then being out of each other's sight, but they were all fine. Purple group spent their time going between the casino and the repair bay, mostly staying together
Hoist woke up to Blurr shaking him up. "You're turn," Blurr told him as he slumped himself next to the wall. "Have fun." Hoist got up sluggishly as Knock Out was already recharging and Smokescreen was waiting by the table, still looking tired. Hoist trudged on over and took a seat in front of him.
"Heeeeey," Hoist said a bit slowly, tired.
"Yeah," Smokescreen murmured.
"Listen, I can't believe I'm asking this, but-"
"Mirage is being a dumbass and asked you to meet him tonight, didn't he," Smokescreen bluntly asked him.
"How the… yeah," Hoist disappointedly admitted.
"I figured," the gambler murmured. "When?"
"Two."
"Alright, listen, at two, we used this pipe," he showed off a pipe that Hoist just now noticed, "to block this door when we leave and go meet Mirage together. I don't trust leaving you there by yourself," he told him.
"Wow… that's nice," Hoist murmured, understating it.
"Just be ready. Freshen up before it's time."
"Alright, door's blocked," Smokescreen told him.
"Great, let's go," Hoist told him. The two of them quickly made their through the interconnecting hall through the library and made their way to the mall. The two were almost at the mall when the two of them noticed a couple of people on the first floor.
"Hey, Onslaught and Blast Off, what are you two doing out?" Smokescreen asked the two of them down below. The two of them jumped and looked up at the two.
"W-what the… why are you two doing up?" Onslaught stammered, surprised.
"I came to meet up with Mirage," Hoist told them.
"Aw, yes, he mentioned that," Blast Off murmured.
"So he's there?" Hoist asked them.
"He should be," he shrugged.
"Alright… now what are you two doing up?" Hoist asked them.
"Nothing you need to know," Blast Off brushed him off.
"That sounds suspicious," Smokescreen murmured.
"Uh, look, how about we go with you to Mirage and you don't ask anything else," Onslaught asked him.
"Well, I guess that's okay," Hoist agreed.
"Seriously?" Smokescreen questioned.
"Alright, let's go to… wherever you need to go," Onslaught murmured.
"Repair Bay, nice," Onslaught murmured.
"Yeah, let's go inside," Hoist told everyone.
"What the hell are you guys doing here?" a voiced asked and they turned to see Nightbeat emerging from the med-bay. "Onslaught snuck out while I had to clean myself in the bathroom and now I find all of you?"
"It's nothing…," Onslaught murmured.
"What are we here for?" he asked.
"I just came to see Mirage and thye decided to escort me," Hoist told them.
"Mirage? How many of you are up?" he asked them.
"It should just be us," he told them.
"Alright, let's go see him then," he said, moving up and opening the door. They were immediately greeted by dimmed down lights from being nighttime.
"Mirage?" Hoist asked.
"Hoist? I'm back here," Mirage called out from behind the behemoth. For some reason, he sounded in pain.
"Are you fine?" he asked, running over to the behemoth and looking behind it. "What the!?"
"Yeah, I'm not doing too well," Mirage moaned, a jagged spike from the behemoth protruding from his chest. Energon was all over the spike and Mirage's chest.
"W-who did this?" Hoist blabbered, holding onto Mirage.
"You know, I think I'm losing it," Mirage mumbled, a dazed look in his eyes. "You should fine my presents. You'll need it for later."
"No I don't. I just need you to tell me who did this!" he yelled.
"You'll figure it out, just find my present, please," he asked him, his eyes going dark. "I wish we could've been friends."
"We are! I'm sorry!" Hoist shouted, holding onto him. The others had come behind him and looked at the corpse and the mourning friend. That kept going until a few seconds letter, they heard the noise they al dreaded.
*DING DONG! *
"A body has been found. A quick period of investigation will occur before a class trial!"