"Is this part of your plan?" Jamie winced as he opened his eyes to the empty black space that was probably his dreamscape. He was partially sure that was S'rik's voice.

"You'll have to elaborate." He saw what he could assume to be S'rik. S'rik was a giant, with two mouths and four eyes standing out in armor like skin. There were hollow, pocket like fins sticking out on the back and seemed to come out of every crack of skin. The head had looked more like a mask with horns tied to a jagged mountain. The glow that came from the inside of their body gave Jamie the assumption of of a deep sea predator.

"Don't play dumb with me. I brought that person into this universe, who are you to groom him into whatever you want?" Grooming? Jamie was equally amounts surprised and angry. Were they trying to get him to lean into a particular direction? For a specific purpose?

He noticed one thing however. He couldn't see his nose.

He was invisible.

"At least it's better than what you have in mind. If I'm correct, you had original plans to colonize this planet. Your first attempt ended with someone from that world breaking out of your hold. It was bad enough that he was one of your strongest and to rebell, but also to start sabotaging the operation? What makes you think that you can try again, with someone with the same connection to that world?"

Wait what? This was new information. As in "you shouldn't be hearing this" information. Knowing this meant that Primus and S'rik weren't with him, but for the time being not against him. But for how long?

"You say that as if you're better. Isn't it your daughter that genetically modified and entire organic race with the purpose of harvesting suns? First a dwarf star, then a regular one and soon the star that circles this planet. How many planets has that Quintessa killed? After all, she just loves doing your dirty work, doesn't she?"

"You value humans too much, do you? Is it because they worship you as a false god?"

"Your words mean nothing to me, you fraud. Like daughter, like father - you'd love to wipe humanity off the face of the planet, wouldn't you."

Red flag, red flag, red flag- shit, they both sound like pieces of shit. Does Primus actually want to destroy the Earth or was that just the Quintessa genes talking? She wanted to destroy the Earth because their world was made of two planets, one of which was a world eater. But where did she get that idea in the first place? Did she get it from Primus?

He knew S'rik was shady, but fuck. Their creations apparently had a history with humans, maybe during the first few centuries of the millenia but worshipped as a god? Were they actively trying to turn Earth into a colony during the middle ages? From the sounds of it, they failed but now they're using Jamie as attempt number 2.

Now this was fun. Teresa hadn't been one to listen in on conversations or arguments, frankly because her household consisted out of her, her father and maybe the neighbors. Fights in the household were rare, nonexistent even. Teresa only listened in on one fight in her life and that was basically the catalyst of their morally indifferent crime life.

This was definitely new information. Blackmail information. But can you even blackmail gods? Probably not, since it's they who make the rules, not follow them. Still, it's important information. He can finally try to put things in a system of "friend or foe".

The bartender is a most definite friend. No bartender would actively go along with some madman's plan of avoiding an intergalactic war.

Or maybe the bartender was also sent by these two numb skulls? They certainly didn't seem human. They promptly even said it. Not by their speech nor by the aura around them. Especially if they found him in Minnesota of all places. Maybe a wizard like Merlin? No, probably a vampire or some immortal.

The Decepticons would probably be foes, but maybe that could change. He's never really understood their goals because he frankly doesn't know them. Three cheers for shitty plot pacing.

He can't rule out the Autobots as friends or foes. He knows he's changed whatever understanding they'll have on him, he just doesn't know how he changed it.

Sector Seven is a foe. He doesn't need to know what they think of him, he broke in there and probably wrecked half the place all the way to hell and back.

S'rik and Primus are temporary allies, but this is where he needs to think. For how long will they be allies and when should he cut ties? No doubt if Megatron breaks out. One of them will try to paint the other as the monster and try to choose - Cybertronians or humans. That's... a really fucked up choice. Considering that neither will end pretty.

Jamie thinks, if his first goal was to ensure minimal causalities but each God was referring to their creations only, then technically he can say that he was referring to both humans and Cybertronians. Jamie chuckled, thinking how truly useful the "I didn't understand the theme" excuse can be. It'll definitely piss both of them off.

Still, maybe he could mess around on his own and-

"How long have you been there?" Jamie froze. He could see his nose. He's not invisible anymore. Fuck.

Aaand, that was his queue. Jamie closed his eyes and bit down on his tongue. There was a flash of light, brighter than the one that he saw before. But this one was different. This time, when he opened his eyes he wasn't sure where he was. He was invisible again, though.

The whole place seemed like just one big clearing on a very cloudy night.

'This is new.' Jamie thought before his head started pounding.

Memories trickled in one by one.

At first there was fear. The fear of getting caught, of getting hurt. It came in the form of red eyes and fire.

But then there were voices. None of them made sense and Jamie was sure that none of them spoke a language he was familiar with. Clicks, whispers and roars. Chants, whistles and groans. He couldn't understand what they were saying but something was different. Unlike in the bar, when they were just whispering, now it felt like they were projecting emotions onto him. Muddled feelings had flown in and out of his mind.

The wind in his face had been nothing short of scorching. An ache in his legs had shown itself as light touches of heat brushed against his face.

Suddenly there were memories. Memories of fighting, yelling and insults. Everything feels too fast and nothing makes sense-

Fire. Poison. Heat. It burns, it burns, it burns, it burns-

Flashes of images went through his head. Scenery of metal cities and lights, a battlefield covered in glowing substances, hallways of cramped airways, red eyes, full of malice and hatred instead of solidarity and trust, why did he change-

Who had turned you into this, Megatron? Or did you simply became so out of choice?

To let your people fall into the well for a cause long lost?

Jamie woke up with a jolt. The sun was shining through the curtains of the room. His breath was ragged and didn't notice he had been crying until he rubbed his eyes.

He groaned, raising his hand up to block the rays from his eyes. He felt heavy, like someone had turned his bones to lead. A thick blanket was draped over his sleeping form.

He wanted to sleep over this headache. He wanted to go back to bed and pretend he's back in Tranquility. And yet he couldn't go back, not without the risk of Sector Seven finding him or his whole family getting radiation poisoning and half of the suburbs being deemed inhabitable.

Jamie craned his neck to the left and groaned. It hurt so much just to move his head.

Last night he met bartender again, who apparently can teleport. He drove around in no direction particular and ran into Starscream, who then proceeded to wipe the floor with him. Or wall. He didn't remember. After downing what probably was malic acid and some sort of strenght boost potion from the depths of hell, he lost conciousness. Or maybe just blacked out.

By the look of how he was still alive but sore beyond explanation, he either kicked Starscream's ass back into the spaceship he came from with some magical super strength or got thrown around like a ragdoll and barely escaped.

Wait.

Wait, the Allspark. Where the hell-?

Jamie sprung out of whatever he was lying in. It hurt just to fucking stand, if he lost that fucking death cube of eerie matter on the first week he- he doesn't want to think about it. His neck ached and he felt his right arm hurt so much he nearly sobbed. His soles hurt like he had been running for days.

"Putain merde, I swear to hell itself if-" Jamie spotted the bag, somewhat burned and covered in ash, lying on a chair next to the- where was he lying again- couch. He grabbed it and proceeded to check the contents.

All was there.

All was there including the Allspark, wrapped tightly in foil. Jamie breathed a sigh of relief.

'Oh fuck yeah.' Jamie thought. He breathed a sigh of relief and slumped down on the couch.

So many questions were running through his head.

How he got here and why his clothes look like he just ran into giant fire were questions but there was something else that was more pressing.

First was S'rik and Primus and second was the dream he had. Both bizarre but necessary.

S'rik and Primus probably hated each other for trying to one up the other. S'rik was clearly sugar coating the "save innocent lives" plan and Primus seemed to just stick around because he thought it was referring to the Cybertronians. But the fact that S'rik tried, and failed, to try and conquer earth was eerily scary.

The plans and timeline of the Cybertronians was something he knew, yes, but he doesn't know what S'rik is planning. He never thought of it before but he realized just how much of a head start he had with Cybertronians and their war. He had a whole eight years to think about how badly everything could go wrong, but with S'rik? He didn't even know they had been the god of a race or planet before now. And it has a history with the humans.

Humans seem to be a magnet for intergalactic wars and trouble. Or the other way around, seeing how humans can, well, be.

Second was that weird vision. That sentence he said, it mentioned Megatron but Jamie felt like those weren't his words. Just thinking about it made him feel older. That landscape, it felt so familiar but so far away. The words and voice he used hadn't been his.

And the only one who would have had memories like and was in his general vicinity from time to time was-

Starscream.

Jamie felt himself go rigid. There was only one explanation for that and that was Starscream. In some strange turn of events, he must have somehow gone dumpster diving in Starscream's memories. Not for long, judging by how little he saw. But he felt so much. He felt the fear of the skies as if he were chased, the numb apathy of the battlefield, the claustrophobia of the hallways and the damning remorse and bitter acceptance upon seeing those eyes.

God, just what had happened last night? Nothing good, if he had managed to get chunks of Starscream's memories into his head. He hoped Starscream didn't have his.

He tensed at the thought. Nobody could know. Nobody could know the carefully hidden acts that Teresa had kept hidden for so long. He refused to let anyone know what he did. Even if there was no technical drawback, everything concerning that had become less shameful over the years and more... intimate. It was quite practically the very essence of Jamie's self-hating traits and pessimistic personality.

Jamie sighed.

What Teresa did was never for herself. Everything Teresa had done was for the people around her. From her childhood friend to the very single father that raised and cared for her in whatever way he could. No amount of shame will ever bring down the bitter sense of hatred that Teresa had took with her to the grave. While the action itself may have been horrid, putrid and unthinkable, Teresa had done it many, many times and each time was never for herself. And that is what made it justified in their eyes. But the older they got, the more guilty Jamie felt of what he had done.

He closed his eyes. The life, body and identity of Jamie Witwicky may have been new, but the soul and knowledge of the horrors Teresa Mortegan had done would forever make him feel old.

He looked over at the old ceiling above him. Cracks and chips were far too noticeable on it, despite being so high up.

He wondered for a minute if he could find a drug dealer, defeat him in a street fight and loot him of his weed or whatever he had. He needed to de-stress.

He looked at his arms and in a second his eyes were blown wide. He had a cast on his right arm, from the elbow to the very knuckles. What the fuck. Was he in a hospital?

He looked around the room. There was only a chair and a couch, one of which he was sitting on. Besides that, the room was barren any decor, minus beige wallpaper and a mint green carpet covering the floor. A window shoved light creeping in from the white blinds. This was no hospital.

Only then did he notice a black marker on the cast.

"When you wake up, don't panic. It's just me. Head downstairs. Need to talk. -Luciano."

Luciano? Who the fuck was Luciano?!

He racked his brain over anyone named Luciano only to find nothing.

Sitting here would be counter productive but, still, he didn't know who this Luciano w-

Jamie's whole body started to feel numb. The plush carpet under his bare feet started to fade away into static. His vision blurred for a moment and the walls began to chip away at an alarming rate, revealing a light blue wallpaper. A light blue that, for a moment, flashed a bright red stain behind Jamie's eyes.

Jamie knew exactly what that wallpaper meant, even if his pain ridden mind was fuzzy, and he's hoping that an adrenaline dose would knock him out of this.

This place, this house, he left that place long-

A loud wheeze came out when the feeling of control finally came back. He didn't know he was holding his breath until it came out in ragged breaths. He tried to run, tried to get whatever he had in his bag, he knows something happened. His legs failed him as he got up and suddenly the floor is smudged against his face.

He still couldn't feel anything and it just made everything worse. Images flashed behind his eyes-

Boxes in the drive way, small and large-

A small hand with a bracelet on it, the beads spelling out "Teresa"-

Light coming into the closet, screams and yells falling unto deaf ears, all but hers, all but hers-

The crowbar hiding in a bag-

Blood on the walls, a shaking form in the corner and glazed eyes peered into her very soul. Blood seeped into the floorboards. He almost heard him speak again.

"Fish-eyed brat."

There's something cold that seeps into his veins. Colder than the night in the forest, bag and shovel in hand-

And then he's not the one looking down anymore.

Jamie's looking up. He's on the floor and there's no feeling in his body. A part of his body feels like there's blood seeping out of it.

A small lamp softly swings back and forth, hidden by a woman, her silhouette hidden by the contrast. Her curly and kinky hair hiding her portrait with only beady, vacant eyes on her face. Burned clothes hide the body but the smell of burned flesh still managed to get into his nose. There's a bloody crowbar in her hand.

She crouched down to his eye level, still holding the crowbar.

And for a moment, Jamie doesn't feel afraid. No. The minute he saw those images, he thought, maybe, this the end? Is today the day when he could finally rest his bloody gloves in the fire?

His answer came in the form of being hauled up by his arm. The arm that S'rik had put ever changing numbers on.

"Do you remember? That rage we felt? The sudden feeling of purpose in the world?" "Teresa" started speaking. "I want us to remember that. I want to get to the very core of it and use it when the time," The hand squeezed around Jamie's arm, "is just right. We did it for her and she did that for us. Even if it hurt."

The room started to spin, the wallpaper started to peel off and vertigo hit him like a truck.

It stays like that, for who knows how long, but now, the first thing that Jamie does when he's back in control is fall flat on his ass and hits the cast on his way down. And that fucking hurt, but he couldn't help to notice.

He's hyperventilating like crazy, but with good reason.

What the fuck. What the fuck was that?! It was almost just like back when he saw Teresa in the mirror that morning. The numb body, the semi controlled sight but this. This?!

This is different. What the hell was that? A vision? He doesn't know. A panic attack? Probably. A weird attempt of getting possessed by a demon? It's not off the table. If aliens and gods existed in this universe, well fuck, demons aren't out of the range of possibilities at this point. Wasn't there a recorded exorcism that happened in Germany back in 19 sixty-whatever?

He felt hysterically tired but a rational part of him kept telling him sleeping won't keep him safe. Not when he's had what could possibly be the most emotionally tiring morning in about 16 years of being concious. His heart beat was too fast either way.

He tried to root himself in his surroundings when he noticed something peculiar.

The mint green carpet is now a dull orange, the walls have gone from beige to dark blue. His breath was coming in puffs of steam.

Jamie almost feared that looking at the blinds would only accelerate his already speeding heartbeat. But what in the world was going on, damn it?! First he wakes up who knows where, probably this "Luciano"'s house, with a cast on his arm no less, then he has a panic attack or schizophrenic episode or hell maybe even a seizure, not like it's not possible- and then the whole room turns negative as if he's in a god damned second dimension! Bloody fucking fantastic!

Oh, there is too much shit happening all at once.

Carefully picking himself up, he tried to stagger back to the bag. He needed something to hold on to, self-defense or reassurance wise.

To his absolute disappointment, the shotgun was gone along with the small boxes of ammo, the hoodie was, as it turned out, replaced by a dark blue jacket. AK-47 was still there. The two flasks, one silver and the other black, were somehow still there. No inhaler. Shit.

He could use the AK-47 but that would be overkill. Maybe something in the room. Like that chair...

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a glint of something under the bed.

Jamie hesitated but slowly reached down under the bed.

His left hand brushed against something metallic. He nearly ripped it away.

Gently grabbing the object, he pulled the object with his shaky fingers.

His eyes glazed over when he saw it. An old crow bar with faded paint, probably due to continuesly being exposed to liquids. Yet one word could be read. Mortegan.

No... it couldn't be, he, she burned it, melted it years ago back in that world.

So why was it here?!

Objects don't just travel through dimensions!

His attention was caught to the colour changing carpet beneath him. Was it getting brighter? But the room is inverted, so-

The door slammed open and Jamie nearly gaped at the person who opened it.

It was a two meter being that looked too much like S'rik holding a fire extinguisher. This being didn't have the jagged structure S'rik had, instead having softer armor and the pockets poking out from their back, joints and chest. None of the horns - instead there was a cluster of pockets that formed a halo around them.

They wore an apron that said "cooking to part the sea for".

"By fucking Moses, get out of the Dark Ages before you burn the guest room! That carpet is expensive! And leave the couch alone!"

Wait. Bartender?!

Jamie's brain was going a hundred miles an hour as to what the fuck was going on.

The room felt like it was shaking and his head spinning again.

Whatever part of Jamie's hateful mind said it was a good idea to stand up, it needed to be fired.

He fell once more on the soft rug and groaned. The smell of burned fiber was prominent in the room along with smoke. The cold metal in his hands was gone.

"Are you okay?!"

"No..."

The luminescent light of Nemesis was the first thing that Starscream awoke to. The image he awoke to was half done, a bit distorted, almost as if a chunk of the bigger picture was gone.

Whirring sounds and the soft hum of the main engine could be heard. It's relaxing but he feels as if it wasn't what woke him up.

"Starscream? Starscream, respond. Are you finally out of stasis?"

Starscream tried to turn his helm to the voice but his whole frame feels as though it was frozen solid. The pain in his only functioning optic is only a little less than that in the one that's not working. He tried to respond but all that came our was a pained gurgle.

Screw it. Intercoms it was it seems.

'Where am I?' His message was immediately answered.

'At ease, Starscream. You're in the medical wing. You're on Nemesis.' Starscream recognized the identification as one of the few medics on Nemesis.

He was back on Nemesis. The signal got through quick enough to et someone to pick him up from Earth.

"Praised be Primus." He groaned. He's alive and probably only by sheer concentrated luck and the bitter fact that he had to rely on backup. He's bitter, yes, but he stomped the bitterness down when he remembered the very thing that nearly killed him. He's partially sure that if it had been any other type of mech who was unable to fly, their pedes would have been melted off.

'Do not strain yourself. Soundwave and Shockwave have been wanting to speak with you. Especially since you've been in stasis for almost 7 lunar cycles.'

Seven Lunar cycles?! Starscream wanted to yell for an explanation but refrained. This was... this was less than desirable

But something else caught his attention. Soundwave and Shockwave had something to discuss. He wondered for a minute, before remembering that they'd offered him rations in return for information about Signal "Gamma".

He internally scoffed. "Rations" his aft. He should have demanded more if he knew this would happen.

But this discovery was as important as it was unnerving. For the entirety of a vorn the Decepticons had believed that the humans pose no threat. They were small, not exactly sophisticated and constantly held war in between themselves. No particular trait that stood out, minus their adaptable nature and stamina.

But that was a vorn ago when they last checked. Had something changed in the time of a vorn? Were the little fleshies aware they were no longer alone on their planet and started to develop a plan of retaliation?

Starscream had never thought it would happen. If it even was happening-

'Starscream. Respond.' Soundwave commed.

Starscream snapped out of his musings. Soundwave and Shockwave were in the room. The medic had gone somewhere. When did they come in.

'Respond to what?'

'The question. What do you have to report about your... investigation.'

'As if you could call it that.' Starscream retorted.

'Starscream, you will elaborate.' Shockwave sent, a silent threat in the air. Were they that desperate about this project they had going.

'Then let me ask. When was the last time we had analyzed the humans in terms of biology and society?'

Shockwave and Soundwave shared a look of curiosity and confusion.

'A vorn ago. A majority of the countries had been either in war or in ruin.'

'Then believe me when I say we should have checked more often.'

'Elaborate. What happened on the planet?'

Starscream tensed. He knows he has to say this but he just doesn't know how to say it. Well, at least without sending Shockwave into a curious frenzy and getting in on experiments with Scapel.

'I believe that the humans have...evolved. In a way that may just be a threat.'

In less that a klik Shockwave had pulled himself a chair with his... worm-like creation and invited Soundwave, who's no doubt recording. Starscream glared at both of them.

'Comfortable?'

'Yes, now give us the full report. And extra commentary.' Ordered Shockwave. Starscream wanted to retort about being second in comand but this threat was too important to ignore.

'Fine. You better listen well, I'm not repeating.'

'Then start already.'

And so, Starscream began to dump information in an almost prosaic manner. Why? Because he could. Or better yet deserved to relive quite probably the seventh most traumatic experience he's had. Or maybe because he knows that Soundwave and Shockwave can filter information better than anyone on the ship. Either way, he misses no details and sprinkles comments regarding humans evolving into Frenzy-sized comets of unfiltered wrath, their existence in Jupiter's orbit probably being an open secret and how much he has suffered during his current lunar cycle of conciousness.

"-And then signal Gamma just apparently decided "Frag it!" and launched itself directly into my optic! My optic, the only part that has an unbelievable amount of energon minus the spark chamber, for Primus' sake! The fragging thing is a scrapper and we might as well be two planets away from Unicron!"

"Unicron is an old legend. A myth, Starscream." Grit out Shockwave. Starscream took this as a sign that he needed to get to the end of it, already.

"...my apologies, but that's as close of a mental image I can make. And another thing I'd like to add." Seeing as how Shockwave is nearing the end of his patience, he wonders if he'd be the first to make Soundwave lose his. "Signal Gamma is shown to be immune to energon and, I wish I was I was making this up, seemed to resonate with it."

"Elaborate." Commed Soundwave. Hm, rumors of Soundwave being a saint amongst even this lot may be true. But his brutal work assignments stated otherwise. In the rare moments when the Fallen had gone into another fit and couldn't be reasoned with, which was every other klik, Soundwave usually took charge of who did what.

"I thought I saw my life flashing before my optics but it turnes out the human saw it too."

Soundwave and Shockwave made no move. Starscream wonders if that was unnecessary. Nobody can truly read them, EM fields always hidden and Shockwave even had his removed.

A moment passes...

"He called Megatron something that sounded like "enfoiré". Practically an insult." Starscream may have lied there but it was almost the truth. It did insult the leader of the Decepticons. To whom of the leadership was unimportant.

"Starscream, are you sure the human managed to do that?"

"Yes." There was a mute silence between the three. No doubt communication between a private channel.

"Can you give us a description of it?"

"Small in frame, dainty, fuzzy helm and two dots on the left side of the face plates, grey optics but change to purple, if I'm correct. Armed, afthollish-"

"Anything else of importance?"

"If I'm correct, there's a chance it's fast but only for a limited time. Organics need oxigen and that of the sort."

"Noted. Starscream," Replied Soundwave as he and Shockwave were leaving." expect those additional rations to come soon."

And with that they walked out. Starscream huffed.

"Talk about a cold shoulder."

"Ow!" Exclaimed Jamie, twitching away from the cotton bud with rubbing alcohol.

"Stop fidgeting! I won't be able to clean the wound if you keep doing that!" Bartender- no, Luciano scolded. "It's still hard to believe you can get head trauma like this just from falling. Just what were you doing up there?"

Jamie glared at the cotton bud, avoiding the question.

He actually got hurt for some reason during that- possession session? If one could call it that.

"I dunno, trying not to get possessed?" Jamie retorted. He didn't want to seem rude, especially since he was a guest who was having a gash on his forehead fixed. But the stress of everything just made him tired and irritated. Luciano continuesly cleaning the wound did not help.

Luciano gave him a quizzical look before remembering something.

"Oh. Right, that."

"What do you mean 'that'?"

"It's a long explanation that needs several other explanations which I'm very sure you'd sleep through." Replied Luciano, putting the bud down. The cut was clean but it still needed stitches. Jamie had protested against the notion of getting stitches at first but after a look in the mirror he caved.

Propped on the kitchen booth, he tried to pay attention to anything else in the spacious kitchen. He's never had stitches before, not as Jamie nor as Teresa. Then again could he even call himself Teresa anymore?

"Not true." Said Jamie as he eyed the fridge. Luciano lives suprisingly luxuriously for a bartender. The place looked old but finely rebuilt from what he could gather in the halls when he was led into the kitchen. If high ceilings and spacious rooms could be called luxurious that is. Luciano put the the pincers down and started rummaging through the first aid kit on the counter. "Besides, i only need the basics!"

"Yes you will. The pain killers I have are pretty weak but long lasting." Luciano picked out a pill box and put it on the counter. He then walked to the fridge and pulled out a carton of juice.

"I don't need painkillers. I can handle it."

"Wh-" Luciano stuttered, nearly dropping the carton. "Are you sure? This isn't like poking yourself with a needle. It's pretty painful. Even with painkillers, some of it gets through. Nobody deserves pain- well, nobody who hasn't done anything bad that is."

"But-" Jamie wanted to protest. He had done something like that- he's been doing it all his life. From the time when he was but an eight year old child in France to probably last night. Wait, what day was it? "Actually, nevermind. What day is it? And where are we?"

"Well, we're in one of my safe houses, more particular in North Florida." Luciano picked out a glass and poured some juice into it.

"We're in Florida?!" Nearly yelled Jamie. His hands started shaking. What the hell is it with him blacking out and waking up hell knows where?! "That couldn't be right. Last night you were in Minnesota! I was in Minnesota! And you were there! You were in a gas station-"

"Whoa whoa whoa, slow down." Luciano raided his hands and placed the glass on the counter. "First off, we met in Minnesota a week ago."

Jamie's eyes widened. That- taht couldn't be right.

"What do you mean? That happened last night, right?" Jamie's nerves were burning up in stress.

"No- dude, you showed up in this house two days ago. We met on April the 15th in the bar, right?" Luciano asked, trying to calm Jamie down. Jamie nodded.

"Then you were gone for a week and we met again in Minnesota on the 22nd of April." Luciano explained.

"But it felt like it was just yesterday..." Jamie whispered. His memory was fuzzy, true, but he couldn't have gone on a blackout rampage for a whole week.

"And then you literally flew in here on the 27th. Look, I can show you, give me a minute." Luciano said scrambling off somewhere. There were sounds of rummaging and curses. Luciano ran back in with a laptop and an outstretched cable attached to it. "Uh, mind moving to the living room? The cords not that long."

Jamie got off the counter and softly treaded towards the living area where Luciano was typing away on the laptop that was on the coffee table. He looked over the cord on the floor and let his eyes follow it until it went through an open door. From where he was standing, Jamie could see some books and an old hard drive.

"That's the study, you can check it out while I try to find that tape. In fact, i think Raspberry is in there napping. They've missed breakfast and i made jello yesterday." Luciano called out from the table.

"Wait, just like that? Just, letting me into your study, where anything and everything could be hidden?"

"I've got nothing to hide. Besides, it's important to survey your surroundings."

And with that, Jamie followed the cord until he reached the door. Gently pushing it open, he was met with the sight of bookshelves, computers and large tables. The cord continued on to connect to a heavy-duty computer.

However, Jamie's attention was soon drawn to the desk, but more importantly, a picture on the desk.

For a while now, Jamie's been wondering - who is Luciano, why is he helping him and just how much power did he have. There were a million questions he wanted to ask but didn't. Some could be ersonal and others could be- well...

He could live with his curiosity unsatisfied, or just with the bare minimum. He was helping him and it didn't seem like things would ease up after this. Especially after Starscream.

Jamie walked to the desk and picked up a picture framed in oak. It was a small parchment, yellow from age and time but it's contents confused Jamie.

On it was a drawing in dark ink, a very simple one, of a family. A woman, a man and three children. They all all wore garbs, loose and without detail. The faces were drawn as simply as one could imagine - dots for eyes, simple smiles and just the curves of the noses. They were smiling. Happy.

And behind them was a simple interpretation of Luciano. The "S'rik" form of Luciano, the pocket like fins meshed into feathers and the halo rounded in. His hands were on the shoulder of the mother and the father. There was a large smile on his face, mimicking the smallest child's.

The picture was simple, a child's drawing even. But Jamie knew better. For all he knew, this was probably Luciano's most treasured item in the whole world. Something so simple, yet made with an unimaginable amount of care and for the sake of preserving an important memory.

Jamie wondered, just how old was this picture?

"Hey, I found the tape- oh." Luciano's head peeked through the door and caught him staring at the picture.

Jamie gulped. Now or never.

"Hey, Luciano, wha-"

"Oh! That! That's, what you might call, my "first contact" with Earth." Luciano said, a soft smile appearing on his face as he walked to the desk. "A family of five. Six, if you include me."

"Wait, first contact? You mean-" Jamie started.

"I'm an alien? Yeah." Luciano said as he picked up the picture, wiping away any dust that may have formed with the sleeve of his shirt.

"But- but and that stuff about "souls" and abilities-"

"Hey, the concept of souls is universal! And I wasn't lying about the abilities thing. Just using it as a broad term."

"But, if you're an alien, then that must mean there's others like you, right?" Jamie's mind drifted to S'rik and their tell-tale people. Luciano's smile dropped slowly.

"Well, yes, there are others like me but so far, I'm the only one on this planet."

Jamie gasped.

"You're stranded?"

"Banished is more like it." Luciano said, putting the picture down. "And I guess this picture is proof of it. Y'know, this here drawing is older than some holy crusades."

Jamie looked at the guy with disbelief.

"No way. You can't be that old! I mean yeah you sound like an immortal but like, a hip immortal. Like somebody who got turned into a vampire when War and Peace was finally localized in America." Jamie said.

Luciano gave a hearty laugh.

"I know, it's rather unbelievable. But you know about that ability stuff I talked about?" Jamie nodded. "When I said "those who had different souls" the spectrum I was imagining was intergalactic. And these abilities are pretty mysterious in their own way. But as far as I know, they're all connected to one thing."

"And what's that?" Jamie asked, growing increasingly curious.

"Something that came from the very beginning of the universe. Or rather, what it's made of." Luciano explained. Suddenly, the numb static was back in Jamie's cheeks.

"Dark matter." The voice coming out of his mouth was certainly not his own. Luciano jumped back a few feet, somewhat shocked. Could he tell if Jamie was being possessed? As quickly as it came, the static was gone.

"Are you-"

"I'm fine." Jamie wheezed out. "But anyway, about that tape? And please tell me you have an inhaler for asthma? Preferably maintenance."

"Oh! That!" Luciano immediately dropped the subject. Maybe he knew about it? "Uh, actually I think you came with a whole bunch of them. When you crashed in here but I didn't check those boxes."

"Boxes?"

"Yeah, but let me show you." Luciano said motioning to the door.