"Very good," Yoketron said. "I think that will be enough for the orn."

Orion bowed.

"Before you leave, though," the Circuit-Su master continued. "We should discuss the completion of the fourth trial."

Yes. That had been lurking at the back of his processor, but he didn't want to address it at the moment. He was stressed enough thinking about his impending meeting with the Council.

"Orion?"

"I'm sorry," Orion said. "Yes, we do need to discuss it. But… it's a difficult prospect. I can't just leave for an undetermined amount of time."

"You must complete this trial." Yoketron said. "You can't skip it."

Orion sighed. "I know. Can we… discuss this another orn? I have a lot to think about right now, and many things to do this orn."

"We've put it off long enough, don't you think?" Yoketron asked. "I haven't even told you what the trial is. I know a little more about this one than the first three."

Orion tried to push nervousness about meeting the Council out of his helm. "All right," he said. "What happens in this trial?"

Yoketron nodded. "The fourth trial is Vector Prime's. Once you enter it, you will forget that you are not really experiencing the things the trial simulates. The object of the trial is to discover that you are in a virtual reality, and choose to leave it."

That didn't sound too bad, unless… "What happens in the virtual reality?"

"Nothing terrible," Yoketron said. "Reportedly, it's one of the more pleasant trials. In fact, that's the point. The false reality is your perfect world, where everything is the way you wish it would be. That's part of the challenge—you have to choose to come back to reality."

Orion felt cold. "I have to choose to come back from a perfect world?"

"A bit cruel, isn't it?" Yoketron asked, smiling sadly. "But I suppose it's a necessary step toward accepting your calling. The unfortunate thing in our case is that there's no way to predict beforehand how long you'll be in the trial. It's been known to take mecha more than a quartex, and I believe one mech was in the trial for nearly a vorn."

That would be a disaster.

Yoketron seemed to read his expression. "There will be no convenient time for you to begin. You'll simply have to pick a date, and let the others know that you will be gone for a few orns, maybe a decaorn or two. The shortest recorded time is ten joors…. But I believe the average is about eight or nine orns, if you exclude the ridiculous outliers."

"That is still too long."

"It must be done," Yoketron said. "There is no way around it. And the longer you put it off, the busier you're going to get. Do you think this war is going to calm down as time goes on? Believe me, Megatron's just getting started. I am sorry this is difficult for you, but you are racing the clock here. You cannot afford to wait."

Orion took in a deep vent. "Very well. I will start the trial within the decaorn… hopefully Megatron won't attack again so soon after his attack on Iacon."

"Thank you," Yoketron said. "Now, you are free to go. Good luck in your meeting with the Council this orn."

"Thank you." Orion bowed again, and left the crystal garden.

"Lord Megatron."

"I do not have the patience for you this orn, Starscream."

Starscream stepped forward, hesitantly approaching his leader's throne. He bowed deeply. "I merely wanted to congratulate you on the successful battle at Iacon," Starscream said, hoping to placate the warlord. He had been waiting a long time to come before Megatron with this proposal.

"Really?" Megatron narrowed his angry red optics. "Is that really why you're here?"

"Well…" Starscream sad. "I also thought I'd bring forth a brilliant idea that I have been working on—something to ensure that we keep the upper hand—something that will simultaneously crush the Autobots' reputation, and that will make our army unbeatable."

He waited, feeling the full force of Megatron's glare.

"Very well," the warlord said at length. "As long as explaining your idea doesn't take as eternally long as Blackangle's assassination attempt is."

Blackangle scowled at them from the other side of the throne room.

Starscream smirked at him in response. Blackangle was dangerous, like Soundwave. They were Megatron's most trusted advisors. If Starscream could outdo them—which of course he could—he might become second in command. "Don't worry. This is much better than a doomed assassination attempt." He paused for dramatic effect. "I know how to get you the most valuable resource on all of Cybertron."

"Really?" Megatron said. "And what exactly is this resource?"

"The loyalty of every seeker on the planet."

Megatron didn't look convinced.

Blackangle snorted. "What are you going to do? Annoy them into submission? Didn't they kick you out of their city?"

Starscream glared at Blackangle, but addressed Megatron."Have my plans ever disappointed you, milord? Have my services not been invaluable up to this point? I only ask that you hear me out."

There was a pause as the former gladiator considered. Eventually, he nodded. "Continue."

Orion stepped through the front doors of the Council Building, feeling significantly more certain of himself than he recalled feeling the last time he was here. This time he had Solus Prime accompanying him, along with a lanky mech who she'd introduced as Amalgamous.

Orion led the way through the hall, with the other two following him.

"I might have a look around," Amalgamous muttered.

"Stick with us," Solus snapped. "And behave yourself."

Amalgamous huffed. "When do I ever misbehave?"

They approached the doors to the Council Chamber.

"Prime." One of the guards at the door greeted him. "They are expecting you."

"Thank you," Orion said, and waited for them to open the doors.

"Your friend will have to stay out here."

Solus stepped forward. "We are his guards," she said. "We won't interfere."

The guards at the door glanced at each other, and Optimus couldn't tell if they were confused or skeptical.

"We?" one of them said, turning back to Solus.

"Wait…" the other one said. "Wasn't there another mech walking with you?"

Orion turned to see that Amalgamous had disappeared.

"Where did he go?" the guard continued.

"I'm not certain." Solus sounded annoyed. "In any case, we can't waste the Prime's precious time—he is here to see the Council. Please allow us to enter."

Something in her voice discouraged argument. The guards glanced at each other once more, and then opened the doors.

Orion stepped inside and Solus followed silently. On one hand he was grateful for her protection, but on the other, her presence made him more nervous. He didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of one of the Original Thirteen, and most of the time the Council could talk circles around him.

"Welcome, Optimus Prime," Halogen peered down at him. "It is good to see you have honored our agreement. However, your guest will have to leave."

Orion took in a deep vent, trying not to be afraid. He felt Elita's support through their bond. "I have honored our agreement in coming to speak with you. This femme is my guard and is merely here to ensure that I leave the Council Hall safely after our meeting."

"I assure you, the Council Hall is well protected. The Elite Guard will be more than sufficient to ensure your safety."

Optimus wondered if Halogen knew just how true that was. If the Council ordered him arrested, and he asked the guards to turn on them… he wasn't even sure what would happen. Maybe that was another good reason to ask them to stay with the Council, though. Just in case.

"I am here to speak with you as you agreed," Optimus said, determined not to get flustered or lose his cool. "And I don't want to take up too much of your time with unnecessary arguments. It has come to my attention that we are not prepared for an attack on Iacon. Many of the other at-risk city-states have been willing to set up a response plan with us in the case of an attack. However we have been unable to work with you on that. The fact that it took you several breems to respond to us cost us the battle here."

"Hmm," Halogen said. "I believe last time we spoke, you assured us you wanted nothing to do with us and that you didn't need our help. Besides, it takes time to shut down the commercial groundbridges."

"You didn't even answer my comm. until—"

"Is this relevant, Prime?" Halogen calmly cut him off. "We don't want to take up too much of your time."

Optimus shuttered his optics. He shouldn't get angry. He needed to try and talk to them, work with them. His city was vulnerable, and if he wanted to fend off another attack on it he would need these mecha to help him.

"We did not summon you here to discuss the attack on Iacon, though it is true that it could have gone differently if you were on better terms with us."

If he was on better terms with them? Orion glanced at Solus, hoping she didn't think this was his fault, as Halogen was suggesting. But he couldn't tell what she was thinking—her faceplate was impassive and her pale yellow optics were calm.

"We summoned you here to discuss your status as a Prime," Halogen said. "It has become apparent to the Council that we were premature in appointing you. At the time it seemed prudent, but much has changed since then."

Orion stared up at him. "What do you mean?"

"Young mech, you are neither qualified nor trustworthy enough for the title. The insurrections of your terrorist organization before the war began summarily disqualify you from your current position."

But… they couldn't do anything about that, could they? He was already appointed.

"However, since we are unable to lift your initial appointment, and since you have been so effective at rallying the masses to our army, we can offer you a chance to prove your worthiness."

Optimus had thought he was prepared for this meeting, but now he wasn't sure. Anything he said in his defense would probably sound stupid, and fall on deaf audios anyway.

"I… prove myself?"

"Yes," Halogen said. "We believe it is time for you to go on the offensive. Your associate, Megatron, draws more mecha and influence to him every orn. If you want to be victorious in this conflict, you must act decisively before he gains too much strength. We've decided to add extra incentive. Upon the defeat of the Decepticon army, we will offer our approval of your position and grant you the Key to Vector Sigma, so that you may pursue the Matrix of Leadership."

Optimus stared at him.

"Do you understand?"

"You can't—"

"I remind you," Halogen said. "You may mock our authority, but that does not diminish it. You should count yourself lucky that we haven't arrested you for your past misdeeds."

Optimus glanced at Solus, hoping that perhaps she would help him. She returned his gaze with a coolness that confirmed she would not.

He looked back at Halogen, trying to figure out what to say. He didn't want to go on the offensive and attack the Decepticons, especially not before he had the Matrix of Leadership to guide him.

"Well, Prime?" Halogen said. "May we take your silence as acceptance of our terms?"

"No," Optimus said. "I…no. I doubt I will be able to defeat Megatron before I need the Matrix of Leadership. In fact, I doubt I will be able to defeat him without it."

"If you act now you may be able to stop him," Halogen said. "But if you continue to hesitate, you will lock yourself into a long-term conflict that will result in catastrophic loss of life. Do you really want that on your conscience, young Prime? This is why we should be in command of the army, not you."

No. Maybe Orion wasn't qualified to lead an army, but he'd rather do it himself than let the Council take command.

He stood straighter. "When I require the Key to Vector Sigma," he said. "I hope, for the sake of Cybertron, that you are willing to give it to me."

"And what will you do if we refuse?" Halogen said.

Solus stepped forward then. She smoothly retrieved a large war hammer from subspace and slammed the handle into the ground with a resounding bang.

Halogen leaned back and the chamber fell silent.

"It was Primus, not you, who chose this mech." Solus's voice rang loud in the quiet room. "And if you refuse to relinquish the Key when the time comes, you will answer to the servants of Primus."

"Do not play games," Halogen said, but he looked afraid. "This femme cannot be Solus Prime. She died long ago."

"Is there anything else you need to say to them, Optimus?"

Orion shook his helm.

"Very well. I believe we will be going."

"Do not turn your back on us, mechling," Halogen said. "You will never receive the Matrix without our cooperation."

Optimus turned and followed Solus out of the room, feeling uncertain. He had wanted to work out some sort of agreement. But maybe that wasn't possible anyway.

Amalgamous met them at the front entrance.

"Well, was it boring?" he said. "Did they sit and threaten each other for a while? It was kind of quick. Did you lose your temper and kill some of them?"

"Why did you even come?' Solus demanded as they walked down the steps. "What did you do?"

"Just a little snooping," Amalgamous said. "That place is all full of nasty secrets. I can practically smell them."

"Hm," Solus said. "Optimus, I apologize for involving myself at the end. I had heard enough, and I wanted to get out of there before I lost my temper. I hope I didn't cut you short."

"It's all right," Orion said. "I've never had much luck working out agreements with them anyway. Will you really help me secure the Key if they refuse to give it to me?"

"Did you promise that, Sol?" Amalgamous said. "Really?"

"Shut up," Solus said, then addressed Orion. "If we are still on-world and available when you need the Key we can help you get it."

That was more ifs than he liked.

"Or we could steal it beforehand," Amalgamous said. "That might be safer."

"No," Orion said. "I don't want to steal it if it is not absolutely necessary."

Solus nodded. "For now, let's get you back to your base."

Red Alert glared at the mech sitting across from him. He was not in the mood for meeting new mecha. Despite all of his cautions, Optimus had gone the orn before to visit the Council, and Red Alert was still getting over the anxiety from that. Furthermore, the ornly meeting would happen in less than half a joor, which was always stressful, because Red Alert couldn't watch the cameras while he was at the meeting.

"He's very qualified," Mainspring insisted from off to the side. "An excellent architect, and there's nothing sinister on his record, I promise."

You couldn't ever be too careful. "I'd like to see that record."

The mech across the table raised an optic ridge and glanced at Mainspring, but didn't say anything.

Red Alert looked into his optics, trying to sense danger in his expression. It was likely that this mech really meant no harm. Apparently, he'd joined the Autobots as a regular soldier, just before they'd started looking for architects. And it wasn't that Mainspring wasn't thorough, it was just that they had to be careful—Mainspring could be a traitor too, you never knew.

"And your designation was…"

"Inferno."

"Hmm…"

"I know," Inferno said with a nervous smile. "I don't think my creators… they wanted me to be a fire fighter you see, and I don't think they were really thinking straight…" he grinned and shrugged. "Look, I get it if you don't trust me to help you build a new base, but just know I'd be happy to help. Honestly, I'd like this more than being a soldier, but I'm all right either way."

Red Alert studied him, watching for signs of lying or discomfort. He did seem a little nervous, but it was difficult to tell exactly what he was nervous about. Helping Red Alert design the new base was a good job for a Decepticon spy to worm into. There would be a lot of secrets about the base—hidden exits and storage spaces, a strong containment area for dangerous prisoners, and of course secure offices for all of the heads of departments and the leaders of their subdivisions.

They couldn't afford to let those plans fall into the hands of their enemies.

He couldn't tell if this mech was trustworthy or not. It wasn't fair. The other side had Soundwave, but there was no way for Red Alert to confidently determine whether a mech was trustworthy or not. There were probably double agents among the higher Autobot ranks already. To invite someone else into the circle of trust would be foolish.

But no matter how much he wanted to ignore the fact, he was not an architect, and couldn't plan the new base on his own. He needed help.

"Very well," he said. "I want you to know I don't trust you. But I am willing to accept your help with this. I have a meeting in ten breems, so we can't start now, but come back next orn at five joors, and meet me here in this room." He would have liked to give Inferno an office, but they didn't have an open one, and Red Alert didn't want him based outside of the tower—that was far too risky.

"Great," Inferno said. "Thank you."

Red Alert nodded. "Thank you…" the mech really did have an unfortunate designation. Oh well. It could be worse.

He went back to his office to check the security feeds and make sure he was up to date on all the things he needed to read and report on, then headed to the meeting they had every orn.

To start off the meeting, there was the usual ornly review of recruitment, resources, and recent Decepticon movement. Each department made some sort of brief report, even Red Alert.

Then Orion addressed them all. "I have an announcement to make," he said. "Next orn, I'm going to be leaving."

"What…"

"But…"

"Leave to where?" Red Alert demanded, anxiety spiking. Every time that mech left the tower, he was in at least three or four times as much danger as he was when he was here.

"There is something I need to do as part of my training to receive the Matrix of Leadership. I will return when it is finished."

"How long will it take?" Ironhide asked.

"I don't know," Orion said. "Hopefully no more than a decaorn."

"A decaorn!" Ironhide said.

Orion glanced at Prowl, and Red Alert followed his gaze. Prowl hadn't reacted much, but Red Alert was fairly sure the Praxian was panicking on the inside. He would be in charge while Orion was gone. Last time, he'd done an admirable job, though Red Alert wasn't exactly sure how. Of all of the heads of departments, Prowl was the only mech other than Red Alert who didn't have a team of underlings yet.

They should both probably work on that. Red Alert was working on it, but he hadn't found anyone trustworthy yet to be his second in command. He wasn't sure what Prowl's problem was. Maybe Prowl was a traitor… unlikely but possible.

You couldn't be too careful.

The most likely traitor was Mirage, of course. One almost never knew where he was. It would be so easy for him to double-cross them. It would be painfully easy, too easy, and he had never been very supportive of the cause in the first place.

He was in Kaon now—at least he was supposed to be.

Jazz could also be a traitor.

Orion continued. "Since the Decepticons attacked Iacon so recently, I doubt they will attack again for two decaorns at least. I will almost certainly be back by then."

"Almost certainly?" Jazz said. "Is there an upper limit ta how long this trip of yours is gonna be?"

Orion didn't answer.

"What I'm sayin' is when should we start getting worried?"

"I can't predict how long it will take," Orion said. "And there will be no way to contact me while I'm gone. I will also not be able to return early, even in the case of an emergency. I apologize for this, but it is necessary. If you begin to worry about my safety, you can contact Master Yoketron, and he will be able to reassure you that I'm all right."

"What if the Decepticons do attack while you're gone?" Moonracer said.

"Prowl has always been the one to lead battles," Orion said. "Hopefully it won't come to that, but I trust him to make good decisions. Besides, I don't think it's likely the Decepticons will attack while I'm away."

"It's ten times as likely!" Red Alert snapped. "If we have Decepticon spies in this room, which I'm certain we do, then Megatron will know you've disappeared. It would be the perfect time to strike!"

"Hey," Chromia said. "Would you calm the frag down? None of us are Decepticon spies."

"You can't be sure!" Red Alert said. They weren't listening to him. They never listened to him. "Mark my words, Prime, if you leave us, something terrible is bound to happen while you're gone!"

"Chromia's right," Ironhide said. "Everymech here is trustworthy. When has anyone you've accused of being a spy ever actually been a spy?"

"You don't know someone's a traitor until they stab you in the back!" Red Alert said. "I'm telling you, it's not safe! And if you're vulnerable, Prime, you'll be in a lot of danger."

"I will be with Master Yoketron," Orion said. "And he is not a spy for Megatron, Red Alert. If he was, then I would already be offline."

If they didn't listen to him, they'd pay the consequences. Red Alert had to prevent it somehow—the imminent disaster. If he was ready, he might be able to stop it, or at least lessen it. Maybe this would help flush out a traitor. If the Decepticons tried something while Optimus was gone, Red Alert would have proof the Autobot ranks were compromised. He crossed his arms, scowling. He would need to be extra careful until the Prime was back. He might even want to hold off on working on the new base so he could keep an optic on things for the next few orns.

The rest of the meeting was just more reports, and some more discussion about what was going to happen and who'd be in charge of what while Optimus was gone. Red Alert probably wasn't going to get much recharge while the Prime was away. He'd catch a breem or two here and there in his office, but he had to stay vigilant for the most part.

The exhaustion was an ever-present nag these orns, hovering in the back of his processor, growing like a storm cloud. But rest was for those who could afford to risk it. Red Alert couldn't. He didn't just need to keep himself safe, he needed to keep the entire Autobot cause protected. He actually hadn't caught any traitors yet, but it was only a matter of time, and he had to be ready when something happened, because there would be little to no warning.

Mirage waited anxiously, invisible, in an alleyway. Their window of opportunity would only be open for so long. According to rumors, Megatron and Soundwave had left Kaon. Primus only knew how long they'd be gone, but this was a perfect opportunity for Mirage to sneak into the base. He just needed Jazz's permission. Part of him wanted to go now, without waiting, but he knew he shouldn't.

Some mecha wouldn't have waited for permission. If their positions were reversed, Mirage knew Jazz would just go for it. But he knew waiting was the better option. He trusted that Jazz would receive the message quickly enough. He'd only sent it five breems ago.

He checked again.

Yes.

[Ok, mech, go for it, but be careful. Get out in a joor or less, and then I want you to come home.]

Mirage subspaced the datapad. He took a deep vent and checked all his systems, making sure he had enough energon in his tanks and that his mod was working properly. Then he left the alleyway and set off toward the base. Now that Megatron was gone, it was only marginally more dangerous than the rest of the city, but if he and Soundwave came back before Mirage left, Mirage would probably get caught.

The front doors of the base were closed, but Mirage only had to find a place where mecha were going in and out, and he had a map of the base, courtesy of Jazz's time spent as a double agent here. That had been quite the feat—and that memory-erasing trick… Mirage could barely imagine how terrifying that would have been.

He found a frequently used door and only had to wait a breem before it opened to let two Decepticon guards out. Mirage slipped into the base before the door closed. His own pedesteps were silent against the floor, which helped him listen for other sounds.

Now, where could he go to get the most information? He didn't want to try to mess with the computer systems. He wasn't good enough at hacking, and didn't want to set off any alarms.

There had to be a place like the entrance room in the tower, where the leadership of the Decepticons spent time socializing. Jazz would know where it was, but they hadn't really gone into details about what Mirage ought to do if he had an opportunity to sneak into the Decepticon base.

He found the energon hall, and hung around there for a few breems, but it was full of ordinary soldiers and they didn't seem to know much more than the mecha on the streets outside. Mirage didn't have time to waste listening to them. He needed to find someone more important. So he left and wandered the halls, making his way slowly toward the command center. When he was nearly there, he almost crashed into a mech going the other way. The mech held himself as if he were important, though there were really no other clues. Mirage followed him, hoping.

He stopped at a door and looked over his shoulder before opening it. Mirage wasn't fast enough to slip in after him, but he stood nearby, audios straining to hear the quiet conversation inside.

"…Not ready yet…don't think Megatron…but I wouldn't put it past him…"

"I don't know….probably knows you're…stab him in the back."

Hmm…

"Just keep your helm down…wait a little longer."

The conversation went on. From the bits and pieces Mirage gleaned, this mech was not loyal to Megatron, and was, in fact, plotting to overthrow him. Now that was a useful piece of information. After a breem or so, they ended their conversation, and Mirage stepped back from the door as it opened.

"One more thing," one of the voices in the room said. Now that the door was open, Mirage could hear him more clearly.

"Yes?" the mech who Mirage had been following—during the conversation, the other mech had called him Blackangle—said.

"I approached the scientist like you asked."

"And?"

"I don't think we're going to get him on our side. I mean, I didn't ask him, but he seems like the type who only cares about his own agenda… so I don't think we'll have any trouble from him after you make your move, but he's not going to help us."

"Well, that's better news than it could be," Blackangle said. "I'll meet with you again soon, probably next time Megatron's not on base."

Mirage kept following him for a breem, but there were a few things in that conversation that merited further investigation. They'd mentioned prisoners once in a way that made it sound like some of them were still on base. Mirage knew several Autobots had been captured, as well as a large number of civilians. Maybe he could rescue some of them, or at least learn more about the situation here so they could mount a rescue attempt later.

He headed for the basement where Jazz's map suggested prisoners were kept. But on the way, he ran into two guards leading three nervous-looking Iaconians somewhere, and decided to follow them instead. They went down a flight of stairs and down a long hallway on the second level of the city. If they went much farther in this direction, they'd leave the base. Mirage hesitated… he'd been here for nearly half a joor now. He didn't have that much time left.

And he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know where these mecha were being taken. But what if it was important?

He kept following.

Fortunately, they didn't go much farther before the tunnel opened up into what seemed like another building. According to Mirage's magnetic locator, they were only a few hundred meters from the main Decepticon base.

The guards were met at a set of double doors by two…drones? Or were they mecha? Their frames weren't identical, so they probably weren't drones. Their faceplates were gone, though, replaced in each case by a single red optic.

Well, that wasn't disturbing at all.

"Thank you," one of the faceless mecha said in a quiet, feminine voice. The guards turned and walked away as the double doors opened, and the prisoners were led inside. Mirage followed. The two faceless mecha led the three prisoners to three empty cell-like cages along one wall. There were other cages too, but those were full. Then the femme stayed and watched the prisoners, while the mech walked away. Mirage followed him down the corridor, through a door. They went through a dark room full of strange-looking equipment, and another that looked like some sort of workshop.

Then finally they emerged into a spacious room that was occupied by a third one-opticed mech and an unconscious or offline mech restrained on a berth.

The faceless mech in this room was sitting at a desk, studying a faintly-glowing machine. It took him a few astroseconds to look up.

"Scramble," he said.

"Shockwave, sir," the faceless mech who Mirage had been following bowed.

Mirage froze.

"We have received three more subjects."

"Good," Shockwave said. "Return to your post. I will request your assistance if I need it."

Shockwave. Shockwave the senator? Shockwave who'd disappeared? Shockwave who'd been in the Institute?

Was that who these faceless mecha were? Mecha from the Institute? Primus, no…

Shockwave went over to look down at the mech on the berth. "Log entry v2488 o377, 8:37 joors," he said. "Subject 7.4. Procedure failure. Subject terminated. 2.13% of spark energy collected… subject's systems recycled for parts." He turned and went back to his desk. Another faceless mech came in, released the offline mech from the berth, and carried his frame away.

Half a breem later, Mirage heard a sound like a saw running. He cringed and tried to ignore it.

He realized he should have followed that mech out. But now he'd have to wait for someone else to enter or leave the room. He walked over to stand behind Shockwave, watching him work. The mech had two datapads and a computer open, all showing things Mirage didn't understand. He committed them to memory, though. Maybe Perceptor would know something about them.

Pit, this was very bad. He needed to leave. He needed to get out of here so he could tell Jazz. This sort of thing—this was the sort of intel he'd been looking for. If Soundwave got back before he managed to escape... He looked at the door. Maybe Shockwave wouldn't think much about it opening on its own…

No. Mirage couldn't risk it. And panic would make him stupid so he needed to stay calm. At the first opportunity, he'd leave, but for now there might be more to learn. He shuttered his optics for a moment, listening to the sound of the saw in the distance. He didn't want to know more about what was happening here. Once you'd seen something, you couldn't un-see it. Once you'd heard something, it would haunt you.

Sometimes you had to make sacrifices. He took a deep vent, fought to ignore the sick sensation in his tanks, un-shuttered his optics, and went back to studying Shockwave's screen.