AN: I apologize for taking so long. I was busy and got a bit lazy, although it wasn't completely unproductive. I'm rewriting all the previous trials and will update them all at once once I'm finished. I'm done with Chapter 1 & 2's trials, the one with the most rewrites, and working on Chapter three's trial right now, which will require less editing than 1, 2, and 4. I'll make it know when I'm finished with them.

"Hey," Rewind said to everyone in the Med-Bay as he arrived. Bludgeon was with Nautilator as they both drank cubes of energon while Knock Out was tending to Hound.

"Welcome. I assume you came to talk to Hound?" the eyepatch-wearing bot asked as Hound looked over to Rewind.

"Hey, Rewind," Hound waved at him. "How you doing?"

"I've been better, but I'm fine," Rewind insisted as he came over and climbed on to Hound's berth, ignoring Knock Out, who sighed in annoyance at being blown off before walking back to Bludgeon and Nautilator.

"That's good to hear. Last thing we need is you freaking out while this motive is around," Hound told him.

"Yeah… that's why I came here. I wanted to make sure you were alright," Rewind told him.

"I'll always be fine. I'm more worried about you," Hound insisted.

"You're the one with the injury here," the archivist remarked as he laid a hand on him. "Please let me help you." Hound sighed as he looked at Rewind in the optics.

"Alright, fine. You can be the one to help me, but once I'm up and healthy, I'll be the one that worries about you," Hound insisted.

"That'll work, but you'll have to walk without help first," Rewind remarked.

"I'm getting there. Don't worry. Bet Knock Out will let me go to my room tonight, right?" he asked the doctor.

"Maybe," Knock Out stated as he came back over to them. "I would like to test you out a bit more. Maybe let you return tomorrow instead of tonight."

"Works for me," Hound agreed.

"I disagree," Rewind grumbled. "I'm tired of having you here instead of on your feet."

"Well, I couldn't get to the ceremony without Knock Out helping me out to get there," Hound reminded him as he patted the doctor on the arm.

"You are still in a rather pathetic state," Knock Out remarked, making the preservationist wince.

"Harsh."

"The truth often is," Knock Out stated. "Now, as I said, I want to test you out a bit more and return you probably tomorrow."

"But I want him now," Rewind told him. "With that motive in play, I need someone by my side, to make sure, you know…"

"Rewind…" Hound murmured, understanding the implication.

"That's a fair point," the doctor acknowledged, "but the health of the patient comes first. I can imagine Ratchet screaming in my audials if I even dare to let Hound out early and risk something breaking before the day ends."

"Besides, nothing will happen. I assure you," Hound told Rewind.

"I don't believe that," Rewind told him back, surprisingly him. "I do believe a murder will happen. I just don't want it to be one of us."

"What a bleak outlook you have," Knock Out remarked. "I understand why you want to have him by your side now."

"It's not bleak. I'm just a realist," Rewind told him. "I mean… five murders have taken place here already. It's common sense to believe another is going to happen."

"Rewind…" Hound muttered, keeping his hand around his.

"Hmph… a logical conclusion," Knock Out acknowledged, "but, if we want to escape, we have to work together against this master, not against each other."

"I want to do that… but not now. Not when this motive is in play," Rewind told him. "I can't trust everyone right now."

"It's a dilemma that the mastermind has put us in," Knock Out remarked. "We can either all work together to overthrow him with uncertain results, or betray the group to get out of the facility alive with absolute certainty. It's a simple design, but an effective one, especially with each added incentive."

"Yeah. So you know why I'm distrustful of people right now," Rewind told him.

"Of course, but it's something we have to overcome," Knock Out stated. "We can't let any of our current sacrifices go to waste, especially Chromedome." Rewind flinched at the mention of his deceased conjunx endure and looked away.

"I know… but I don't think we can stop this next one," Rewind told him. "There's too little time to prepare for it. We don't even know how to get to the mastermind."

"There is a way and that's to not plan a murder," Knock Out bluntly stated.

"It sounds so simple, yet it keeps happening…" Rewind murmured.

"We have to stop it," Hound told Rewind. "Just stay safe while I'm still here. Make sure to lock your room."

"Right… I understand," Rewind nodded, "but for now, I'll stay with you."

"Alright… just remember, you're still safe so long as I'm here," Hound told him. "I won't let anyone hurt you."

"Thank you," Rewind said as he hugged him.

"Hmm… I'll leave you alone," Knock Out said as he walked away and head on over to Bludgeon and Nautilator. "And how are you two."

"We are fine," Bludgeon told him as he sat next to Nautilator's medical slab. "Nautilator is slowly recovering his strength and he shall feel able to walk soon enough."

"I'll be the final one to judge whether he can walk or not," Knock Out reminded him. "Last thing we want is for him to try to walk and instantly fall over."

"Of course. I know my strengths do not lie in medical matters," Bludgeon assured him. "'I'll rely on your judgement first on whether he be allow to stand up or not."

"Hey, no one knows me better than myself," Nautilator insisted as he sat up only to groan as he held his head and laid back down. "And I know I still have headaches…"

"You need to be careful. That grate Smokescreen hit you with really rattled your noggin," Knock Out informed him as he patted the Seacon on the head softly. "Don't move around so much."

"Ow… I hate that gambling, seral killing aft," Nautilator complained.

"Indeed. I will end his life at some point, but that will have to occur outside this accursed academy," Bludgeon growled. "He is lucky that the rules of the game keeps me from killing him without consequence."

"Why are we just leaving him to walk around?" Nautilator asked. "We should totally tie him up and keep him in his room."

"Jazz is probably afraid of how vulnerable he be," Knock Out remarked. "If you were to potentially murder someone, you would probably target the most vulnerable. If Smokescreen was tied up, then he would be vulnerable to someone killing him and attempting to get away with murder."

"Oh… that would be really bad," Nautilator agreed.

"Exactly," Knock Out hummed. "Of course, we have to be careful about Smokescreen potentially attempting another murder as well, but after what happened with the bombing, I think he knows that we will be quick to blame him for any other murders that occur here."

"Indeed, he probably does. He probably knows that his best chance of survival is to work with us now rather than against us," Bludgeon stated.

"But he's a psychopath!" Nautilator stated.

"He's not the first," Knock Out remarked. "Wildrider he's still his normal crazy self and we mostly tolerate him."

"That's because we knew where he stood at all times," Bludgeon stated. "He's insane, but he's upfront about it and doesn't try to hide it, as Smokescreen has successfully done."

"And that is also true," Knock Out nodded. "Not to mention Smokescreen used a bomb against us, the fragger." The doctor held a hand over his eye-patch in shame and anger. "We'll make him pay for it, but that will come latter."

"He should feel lucky he's not the biggest problem around," Nautilator remarked. "That damn Monobear and his mastermind."

"Yes, him. That monstrous bear and his controller," Knock Out agreed. "What I wouldn't give to have him on my dissection table."

"So this is the music room?" Dead End asked as him and Wildrider accompanied Bumblebee to the room, the yellow bot not happy having a probably serial killer and an absolute nihilist.

"Yep. Not bad, huh?" Bumblebee remarked as they walked around, not liking have the two tag along with him.

"It's cool!" Wildrider asked as he looked around the room before running over and grabbing a violin. "Neat!" he looked around and found the bow that go along with it. "Let me jam some tunes out for you."

"No, no," Bumblebee tried to butt in, knowing that the psycho was probably going to personally insult his audials with horrific playing, but was too late as Wildrider quickly shouldered the violin and drew the bow against the strings before he started playing. Bumblebee expected to here dissonant chaos. Instead, Wildrider played the violin delicately as he played several long sustaining notes, lightly drawing the bow back and forth among the strings.

After a couple of minutes of playing, Wildrider stopped and smiled. "Perfectly tune! They obviously keep these well-kept."

"Um… Wildrider, since when can you play the violin?" Bumblebee asked him. "Like, you're crazy and the violin is a sophisticated instrument for the sane."

"You're saying crazy people can't play violins? That's discrimination," Wildrider hissed with a wry smile.

"No, it isn't!" Bumblebee said, frustrated. "Why does someone like you play the violin?"

"Because I do! Why else would I be playing the violin?" Wildrider asked as he started playing a little ditty.

"But… why?!" the scout continues to asked.

"If I may," Dead End sighed, "Wildrider stole a heavily damaged violin from the dumps once and started playing it. He's what you may call a savant with it, as he understood how to play it immediately."

"Really? He's that good with it?" Bumbebee asked.

"Yes. It's surprising to say the least," Dead End remarked. "Never knew he was one to excel in music."

"I got the light touch," Wildrider told Dead End as he worked on more melodies. "Not everyone has it."

"I find that so hard to believe," Bumblebee muttered.

"Better believe it," Wildrider laughed.

"I won't complain. Your playing is tasteful, Wildrider. It's one of the few things you do well," Dead End complimented him.

"You have a strange way of complimenting people," Bumblebee remarked.

"If people meet my expectations, I'll praise them," Dead End told Bumblebee. "I have some… lofty expectations that can be occasionally hard to meet, even for myself."

"Even for yourself?" Bumblebee asked.

"Some say no one is the biggest critic than yourself. I think in my case, it is particularly apt," Dead End sighed as he looked away.

"Is that the reason for your suicide attempt?" Bumblebee asked him.

"There is always more than one reason for attempting suicide," Dead End told him. "Very few are just for one reason. Usually, it is multiple events converging at once."

"Multiple events, such as the killing game," Bumblebee stated. As they were talking, Wildrider was slowly moving to a minor scale for the talk. Even he could tell this talk needed sadder music, although he still had the sly smile on his face.

"…I guess that adds up," Dead End agreed. "I've grown tired of this game. I just wanted to be over and have someone win. Smokescreen's bomb override my plan and forced me to watch as everyone uncovered my plot. I never even expected Ratchet to uncover my plan. I thought Smokescreen gave me an out, but that monstrous serial killer has a keen optic, I will give him that much. And now, all I have to show for my failure is a missing arm and more people that are dead." The poet sighed as he went over and took a seat, keeping his head down. Bumblebee looked at him, understanding as he came over to take a seat next to him.

"Dead End… I can't say I understand your pessimism in regards to everything else, but I know what it's like to be self-critical. I've… screwed up and gotten people hurt before," Bumblebee told him.

"Have you really?" Dead End asked, glancing over towards him.

"Yeah, and rather than criticize for it, it all gets buried and I get praised as a hero for it, even though it was all my fault. It… infuriates me that people celebrate the lie rather than have the truth expose," Bumblebee told him.

"You've been put on a pedestal," the nihilist stated. "You are just another piece in the machine to keep moral up. That's all you are."

"Yeah… I know I am," Bumblebee sighed. "Prowl, Jazz, and Optimus make sure I knew that, although at least Jazz and Optimus felt a little bad for me."

"Prowl is not one for niceness," Dead End agreed, looking away from him. "We know about his pragmatism. Admirable, although he displays clear psychopathic qualities."

"Yeah… he's a very 'ends justifies the means' type," Bumblebee remarked.

"Accurate."

"Jazz… confuses me," Bumblebee muttered, sounding befuddled. "And being here confuses me more, such as that whole Punch and Counterpunch stuff."

"He's a spy," Dead End reminded him, looking over to him. "It's his job to keep information from you, not tell you. What else can you expect?"

"I know, I just thought… he didn't stoop down to Prowl's tactics," Bumblebee said, betrayed.

"Well, criticize him all you like, it worked. I don't think anyone suspected him of being a mole for the Autobots, even now. A strange, but effective tactic at hiding a mole in out mist," Dead End remarked. "Although, considering who he is, and how it all ended so tragically for Punch and Counterpunch, he might have some trouble recharging at night."

"Yeah, that's true… I wonder how much of his actions that Jazz regrets," Bumblebee wondered, looking away.

"Everyone has regrets. It is unnatural to not have any," Dead End remarked. "Some have more regrets than others, but we experience them, all the same. Even Wildrider has regrets."

"If you think I have them, go ahead and say that," the maniac chuckled as he kept playing the violin, although Bumblebee could tell it sounded a bit more pained than usual.

"You decide who to trust, Bumblebee," Dead End encouraged him. "Either way, we all have regrets, especially me. Everything about my plan was ill thought due to my arrogance. The belief that my plan would fail never cross my mind. I never even thought I would live to see my plan fail. I just… wanted this game to end."

"But, we can end it without everyone dying," Bumblebee insisted.

"No, we don't. At best, we can have one live, which was my optimistic belief. You find that nihilistic, but I find it optimistic."

"You have a strange worldview…" Bumblebee muttered.

"Maybe so, but I champion it. Anyway, we here's in the music room. Don't know of anything that one hand can play."

"Oh, that ain't true. There's always the gong," Wildrider told him, gesturing to the giant circular instrument.

"Well, it's something," Dead End sighed.

"It appears people skipped out on lunch for today," Jazz sighed as he sipped his energon all alone in the cafeteria. He had been there since 12 and it was now 12:15. He didn't mind being alone. He was used to it, but at a time where he takes breaks from his work, he would like someone to talk to as he consume energon.

As if someone decided to answer his silent request, Perceptor entered, looked around, grabbed two cubes of energon and took a seat across from him. "So, just you and me today?"

"It would appear so," the spy told him. "Glad to finally have someone here. I'm guessing everyone else is at the bar or elsewhere."

"Judging by the fact the motive is in play, I imagine many are keeping to themselves or staying in small groups," Perceptor informed him as he started drinking one cube of energon.

"Yeah… that damn bear," Jazz muttered before looking back to the scientist. "You didn't remember anything, did you?"

"No, of course not," Perceptor stated. "I would've told everyone if that was the case."

"Good. With this motive in play, we have to be careful," Jazz reminded him. "We don't know what these memories are or even if they're their real."

"That is true… the bear could insert fake memories in us to mislead us on what we remember. After all, we can assume that the killer already has the ability to alter our memories, as evidence by the fact we're missing a couple of years' worth of memories, potentially more," Perceptor stated.

"You right, that is true," Jazz muttered. "I've been looking through all the files I brought with me to my room, trying to make sense of the missing memories."

"Well then, have you made any sense of it?" the scientist predictably asked.

"I've got information on certain events. I know a lot the classes, celebrations, protests, and the like here," Jazz informed him.

"Anything noteworthy?" Perceptor questioned him.

"Considering the situation, all of it is noteworthy, but I get what you're saying. I've been trying to uncover a certain number of controversies revolving around the school," Jazz informed him.

"Not surprising that this school has controversies. What were they about?" the monocle wearing robot asked him.

"Well, for one, the simple existence of the school itself, as you may already know. None of us heard about what the intention of this building was when it was being constructed until we got those letters from the datapads," Jazz informed him.

"Yes, I remember," Perceptor nodded. "I was hoping the headmaster of this institute was sincere in his desire to educate students."

"Well, from what me and everyone else have found, it makes sense to think that this academy did operate as a school for certain amount of time, although I'm unsure on the exact amount," Jazz informed him. "There's too much evidence to indicate otherwise."

"That's what I thought," Perceptor muttered. "It's the only conclusion that makes sense, before we had our memory tampered with."

"Yes, I believe so. I've tried to find information on our tampered memories, but I haven't found anything," the spy told him.

"Can't uncover everything," the scientist remarked.

"I will, at some point," Jazz insisted. "I will uncover everything. I have the information, I just need to connect all the dots."

"Well, if that's the case, perhaps I can assist you?" Perceptor offered.

"I want to… but you're still the only mole suspect who's still alive," Jazz reminded him sadly. "I can't trust you completely just yet."

"Oh… that stigma just won't ever leave me until we can prove my innocence, huh?" Perceptor questioned him.

"No… it won't," Jazz sighed. "I would want it to be Smokescreen who's the mole, but he logically can't be if he's the serial killer. I don't want to believe you or the deceased could be the mole, but I have no choice."

"Well… this really annoys me," Perceptor huffed as he crossed his arms at Jazz. "The very thought that I could be a mole is laughable."

"Then who could it be?" Jazz asked him. "Do you want to go to Rewind and tell him Chromedome was a traitor? Want to tell Hoist that his friend who attempted to kill us all to get him out was betraying him from the start? Want to tell everyone that Nightbeat, who saved us with his deductions several times, was betraying us from the start? Want to tell everyone that Ratchet, who sacrifice his life to get to the truth, was somehow betraying us from the start?" Perceptor grimaced as he stayed quiet at Jazz's words, silently tapping his fingers against his arms.

"That… is true, but as I am not the traitor, it has to be stated," Perceptor told him. "I am an innocent mech and I trust that it will be proven in the future."

"I hope you are as well… but until I can prove it, I'll have to keep you away from my investigation," Jazz informed him. "Conflict of interest."

"Hmph, fine," Perceptor huffed as he stood up with the cube in hand. "Then I'll take my leave. I am of no use here."

"No, Perceptor, I'm-"

"Don't. I am aware I'm not exactly the most popular mech, so there's no need to apologize, but I guaranteed you, in the end, I will be innocent of being the mole," Perceptor said as he walked out and Jazz groaned as he leaned on the table.

'Scrap. I don't want to be suspicious of him, but… I have to be weary of him. And with the motive in plan, I need to worry about everyone else killing me as well.' Jazz looked around before standing up and heading out. 'Safer in my room then in here…'

"Neither of you remember anything, don't you?" Beachcomber asked the two remaining Combaticons as they sat together in a booth in the bar.

"No, unfortunately not," Onslaught sighed. "I want to remember everything. If I did, I could come up with a plan of attack against the mastermind."

"Yeah… it's impossible to fight against the mastermind without knowing who they are or the history of this school," Swindle agreed.

"Not to mention we might know who the mole is with the information," Onslaught added.

"Yeah, we might know if Perceptor is really innocent or not," Swindle muttered. "I want to trust him, but… we don't really know if he's on our side or Monobear's side."

"I trust him," Beachcomber told them.

"You do?" Onslaught questioned him.

"Yes, I do," the geologist insisted. "I know him. We're both scientists. We've worked with each other countless times before. I trust him enough to know that he wouldn't work with such a mad mech, even if he can be a bit suspicious acting."

"Huh… you really think so? Who's the mole?" Onslaught questioned him.

"I don't know," Beachcomber admitted. "I just know it isn't him. It's either one of the others or no one at all."

"Now there's a thought," Swindle hummed. "What if there isn't a mole among us and this claim is all just a lie?"

"Monobear isn't one for telling lies," Beachcomber remarked. "He'll leave information out, but so far, he hasn't directly lied to us."

"That is true, but it must be considered. If the datapad is just a lie or the truth?" Onslaught wondered.

"He told the truth about what our secrets were," Swindle stated. "I know he got mine right, at the least."

"Same here," Beachcomber sighed. "He might be completely correct."

"Yeah… that is-" Onslaught paused as the appeared to realize something. "The secrets. That's how we'll know if Perceptor is the mole or not?"

"What do you mean?" Swindle asked.

"The secrets motive pad have our secrets as well as someone else's secret and the possible people it belong to, right?" Onslaught asked them.

"Yeah… what's the point?" Beachcomber asked him.

"Four of the people who are suspects of the serial killer are dead and Smokescreen revealed what his secret datapad was," Onslaught told them.

"Don't remind me," his remaining subordinate sighed.

"No, I get it!" Beachcomber said, excitedly. "If we can find the secret datapad of the ones who died, then we can determine if Perceptor is the mole or not."

"Oh! That's right," Swindle agreed. "If we ransack their rooms and find the datapads, we can find the mole!"

"Then what are we waiting for?" Onslaught said as he stood up. "Let's go find a mole."