CRASH. SMASH. KABOOM. With every loud noise, she flinched. Mercuria jumped up and ran down the hallway, only to return frowning and unwilling to share any details.

"YOU LYRA! GET IN HERE! ME GRIMLOCK CREATE LIFE!"

It never got any easier. The open mouths, the optics dark, the directionless hands, the stacks of helmets. Yet Grimlock eagerly beckoned her over.

The being was sitting up uneasily. "mmmmmmWaspinator have SUCH a HEADACHE." He did a double take at the robots around him. "Dauber!" He pitched himself forward to crush his friend...oooh, no, wait...that looked a little friendlier than was formerly assessed. The kissing was getting interesting.

Mercuria was no fun at all, chasing them all out of that nasty catacomb to give them a few moments and to ask Grimlock what had just happened.

Grimlock paused to glare at the noises coming from behind a closed door. Then he waved his arms demonstratively, forcing them to dodge them in such a small hallway. "Me Grimlock build Wasp! Put in chip! Electric shock! BOOM! Me Grimlock genius!"

Clankclankclankclankclankclankclank-

All three glanced at each other and edged away from the door. "I think I need to plan the next part of this," Lyra surmised. "Grimlock? Come to the table, I have your last cake."

His visor gleamed. He transformed and waddled close behind.

Dauber didn't come out for a very long time. As in, if this were earth the star it revolves around would have disappeared and returned in the time he hid in his giant mausoleum with 'Waspinator.'

We they finally sauntered to the table, grinning, Dauber didn't bother with introductions or anything pleasant. He sat down, sipped his energon, smiled at his companion and clearly announced, "I want all of you gone before I finish this mug."

Maybe he thought he and his companion had better fighting skills. Maybe he was still high from his non-stop interactions. Maybe-no, no 'maybe'; the 'bot was an idiot. Lyra had a blaster to his head and a Dinobot holding him still before Mercuria even reacted.

"Waspinator, I wouldn't move if I were you," Lyra said, over Dauber's futile grunts. "Your creator has your lover pretty well secured, and I'm so annoyed with his slag-"

"You wouldn't dare!" Dauber countered. "I'm the only hope you have!"

"Oh, spare me. You don't even have ghost powers, do you?" Lyra oh-so-slightly moved her blaster. "You just wanted what you wanted and hoped I wouldn't spend a second impulse questioning how agreeable you'd been once I came back and told you what I needed." The blaster whirred slightly. "If I shoot off the top of your helmet you won't be destroyed, but it'll take a VERY long time to get back to normal. Mercuria?"

The tarnished silver female had not stirred. Her optics lit dully in acknowledgement. "He CAN talk to ghosts, but he wasn't going to help you. I was supposed to kill you while they were banging." The light in them intensified. "Mirage doesn't know where you are. I realized that when Dauber pointed out that you wouldn't still be in this slag pit if you had any means necessary to leave it."

That made sense. "So why didn't you kill me?"

She shrugged.

Waspinator, who'd been silent this whole time, looked lost. "Why iszzz Dino-bot hurting Dauber?"

"ME GRIMLOCK PROMISED COOKIES!" He looked so proud of himself. This seemed to motivate Mercuria to stand up and put a hand on Waspinator's shoulder.

"Dauber made a deal. Now he gets to keep it. I'll stay here with this one-" her blaster was out in a flash. "-while you take care of business, HONEY."

"I won't forget this," Dauber hissed.

"Neither will I," chimed in Lyra, with a different tone. The same one she used with Dark 'Bot.

Code Red and Drill Bit had died horrifically.

No one liked to talk about it.

Arcee did not speak of Firestar's death.

Total destruction never had a place in civilized discourse. No matter how often it happened and how mundane it became after millennia of conflict, few Cybertronians would entertain another's final moments functioning.

The Autobots had a fear of telling certain tales, and the scariest one of all had no scientific basis. Even Perceptor, the most loquacious, would turn a cold shoulder to anyone who brought up the subject, merely stating "That is not pertinent to my recent research."

The twins, however...

'Relish' would be a good description. Far more apt would be "psychopathically enjoyed." Whatever sick derivation they produced, telling ghost stories to horrify Bumblebee gave them such a blast of pleasure they were quick to run off to find the Autobot equivalent of cigarettes.

On Cybertron Kup considered himself immune to the taboo. "I've been dead twice, it's not as scary as you think," he'd preface before beginning to spin a yarn - only to be interrupted by someone more squeamish.

On Earth, Spike loved these. He had a different cultural connection to death - it was removed and sanitized, considered horrific yet glorified as entertainment. Ghosts were not real no matter how much humans fabricated evidence of it. "Tell the one about the herd of guinea pigatrons!" he'd beg.

"No, I hate that one," Bumblebee objected. In vain. Sunstreaker opened his mouth. "Tell the one about the Decepticon Crypt!" That was at least the enemy. Every other ghost story seemed to be about mournful or vengeful Autobot warriors bent on justice at the expense of the functioning.

Sideswipe cut in. "The Decepticons are obsessed with war and hierarchy," he began.

Sunstreaker resented his opportunity to torment a small Beetle being cut off. "They're also egotistical narcissists," he countered.

Bumblebee and Spike glanced at each other, daring the other one to laugh at his lack of awareness.

"Whenever a high ranking official finally kicks it, a statue appears in their Hall of Heroes...also called the Decepticon Crypt."

Sunstreaker knelt down to Spike's level. "It's a dark hole that they say you can only find when you're not looking for it." He leaned in closer. "Usually when you're avoiding anything...dangerous."

Sideswipe grabbed Bumblebee's shoulders and shook him. "Nobody knows how the statues get there, nobody knows WHO will get to be there, but they appear just the same...the minute the chosen one expires."

"Stop it!" the yellow minibot objected. His hands had not uncovered his optics since they'd begun.

Sunstreaker knocked him down to the floor. "You asked for the story." He got back up and helped Bumblebee in the process.

Sideswipe smiled at Spike. "It doesn't exist, although 'bots swear up and down that it's real. That they've seen it. But you look at schematics of Cybertron and it just isn't there."

"I'll find it," Spike ventured. He let them shake their heads before making more demands. "Now tell the guinea pigatron one."

"NO!" Bumblebee cried, running out of the room.