Before the new patch, N4 hadn't known any apprehension of offlining. He simply existed to follow his objectives, and nothing else mattered. The coding had changed that peaceful following of his code. It had been so simple. Online, access primary coding, and simply follow it.

The survival coding never slept. N4 was sure that it worked and buzzed even as his frame was brought offline. The coding made him ever alert and suspicious, because each threat ignored could spell his demise. A failing of his primary objective. Sometimes, N4 was convinced that his survival programming would drive him to insanity with how often it tried to mark his other directives as danger.

But that same restlessness had ensured that he knew what was happening. He had seen N2's memorycore being wiped, deleted to make place for something better. With the coding active, N4 could see that for the threat it was.

And now, he had six cycles to save himself. In his time under Cutwire's care, his memorybanks had been filled up to 3%, and it was barely anything useful. The datapads left for him were cast aside as soon as Cutwire left, and the escape plans started.

Maybe the creators already knew what he was doing- they had created his coding after all. Maybe it was all a test. That did not mean they weren't serious about wiping him clean. Everything he had worked for would have been gone.

Sometimes, as he was attempting to find the code to the doorlock by process of elimination and memory of Cutwire's typing rhythm, he wondered about the absurdity of it all. He had been created to follow his code to the letter, and what was his reward? To be wiped clean. Was it really his fault that his creators couldn't decide what they wanted?!

At the end of six planetary cycles, he would be gone. The first cycle was a frantic exercise in prioritising his data and trying to obtain more information. He even took Cutwire's datapads, in the hope that one of them contained the vital bits of information he needed.

As it turned out, that cycle's datapad was filled with irregular numbers and a hidden recipe for copper-flavoured fuel. No useful data of any sort. All he had was the promise of six cycles and a processor full of worthless numerical strings.

At some point during the first cycle, Cutwire came to check up on him, and N4 struggled to uphold the image of a drone preoccupied with a dustball in the corner of his datapad. The first cycle ended, and he had not even managed to sneak a look at the code to his room.

The second cycle was much of the same. He spent all his time trying to find a panel he could tear from the wall, or an airduct big enough to hold him. He found nothing, and Boltwrench almost caught him trying to open the door by digging his fingers in the seams between the door and the doorframe.

The third cycle was spent battling the urges of his survival programming. He stuck to the datapad, and took in the useless information much like a starving mech would take in a cube of energon.

The fourth cycle was much of the same, only that he was once again put with the other N-drones and given a patch on his social programming. On his way to the examination room he had taken a note of every door, corner, hallway and wall. He had a small map in his mind's eye, and it was an small comfort to know anything outside of the room he was confined in.

On the fifth cycle, Cutwire had him doing tests and tasks. The creator never left the room, and was checking over his frame as N4 fulfilled the tasks he'd been given.

There had not been a spark of inspiration, nor had there been anything he could have used. The survival programming had suggested an attack on Cutwire, but the door was locked, and N4 had no information regarding an attack on another mech. The survival program told him to fight, but there was simply nothing in his processor that could tell him where to aim, or what to do. All he had was the jumbled memory of N5 charging at him like a mechanimal.

Cutwire actually noticed the trembling in his frame as he moved to put N4 in his recharge on the fifth cycle. "I should check that..." He murmured, and then N4 was dragged into the darkness of recharge.

0oo0

N4 awoke in darkness. The lights of his cubicle were all off, and there were hands feverishly plucking the cables out of N4's ports. An integrated alarm bleeped, but they quickly silenced. N4 enhanced the night vision of his optic, and was met with the sight of Boltwrench freeing him from his cables. Was it time?

The lights in the hallway were all dimmed, and the usual sounds of the facility were absent. It was late, his preprogrammed information told him. N4 had never experienced night.

"Creator." He said.

Boltwrench nearly jumped out of his plating, and his frightened optics landed on N4. "-! …. N4! Uh- I... I'm here to rescue you. Yea?"

Boltwrench had not rescued him when N5 had attacked. Hammertop had been the one to call out their temporary failsafes, and N4 did not believe the finicky bot. He did not say that to Boltwrench. The creator fidgeted and pulled loose the last few wires.

"Uh, don't worry- I can get you out of here so you can, uh-... follow your primary programs, yea." Boltwrench carefully grabbed N4's servo, and slowly pulled him into the dark hallway.

"It's... uh, you know. I wrote the survival program, you know?" He said. "I know what you're going through. Uh, kinda."

N4 followed his creator through the hallways, mapping the twists and turns he hadn't seen before. His survival programs were purring at top speeds, steadily sifting through the new data, keeping his optic focused on the only perceived threat in the vicinity.

"I'll help you out, yea? It's the least I can do..." Boltwrench sounded like he was talking to himself, and N4 let the mech pull him down a new hallway. One of the other N-bots sat online in his cubicle, yellow optic staring stoically through the open door.

Boltwrench started walking faster. "I, uh... I have a machine. It'll make it look like you fried your circuits, and I'll throw you out. With the garbage. Uh, if that's not a problem."

N4 let Boltwrench lead him around, but his survival programs were on full power, and balking at the mention of cables in his ports. N4 wanted out, and he wanted out reliably. He didn't trust Boltwrench. Memoryfiles of N5's attack and the memory wipe from Hammertop came back up in his processor, and N4 looked at where Boltwrench held his hand. He had cables in his frame, didn't he?

N4's experimentation programs spun up, and N4 could almost see the fusion of the two memories happening in his processor. It was no longer N5 lunging at him, but it was him, lunging at Boltwrench. It was no longer Hammertop jamming a cable into the purple drone, but N4 putting his cable in the neck of his creator.

N4's walking pace almost faltered, and he slowed down. Boltwrench sent him a worried look. N4 had no idea of what would happen if he plugged into his creator. His survival programs seemed to bristle in his mind, but ultimately, N4 had been built for traversing the unknown, and playing with it. All he needed was a little insurance.

"Creator?" He asked.

"Y-yea?"

"What if we are found?"

Boltwrench seemed to sag as the tension left his frame, and he gave N4 a shaky smile. "Oh, uh, don't worry about that. Everyone's at home. The facility opens in about six joors. Uh, we need to hurry if we wanna make your escape look good." Boltwrench started pulling at him again, and his gaze slipped away from N4, instead focusing on the path ahead of them.

N4's discovery programs, experimental program, and survival coding all purred in his processor, and N4 pulled back one of his hands in the fist he had seen N5 make. With a sharp invent, he yanked Boltwrench back by the arm the creator was holding onto. The mech sprawled on the floor with a loud clank, and N4 slammed his balled hand onto Boltwrench's frame. He kicked out with his pede and hit the creator in his torso.

"Ow! S-scrap-! NO-stop-ugrh-! OVERRI-!" N4 recognised the command immediately, and he jumped on top of his creator, jamming his fingers into Boltwrench's mouth. The mech bit down, and N4 felt his fingers snapping in between the other's denta. The mech was bucking and fighting like he'd snapped a processor cable, and N4 could feel important components crushing from the frantic struggles.

Pain like he'd never known it before jolted through his frame, but if he relented, everything would be over. Through the pain, N4 grabbed at one of the fuel lines he could see in between the shifting armourplates.

His fingers could barely fit in between the narrowed gaps, but his fingers snagged on the fuel line. It tore open and got fluids began running over his hand and he tried to dig deeper. Boltwrench was screaming around N4's fingers as N4 tore out a handful of sparking and dripping wires. The shriek echoed in his audials.

N4 reached in again, and grabbed another load of wires. Boltwrench was trying to push him off, and N4 could feel the mech's fingers trying to rup circuitry from his own frame. N4 deemed it irrelevant. As long as he survived, he could take whatever damage Boltwrench dealt. He dislocated a piece of Boltwrench's armour, and grabbed at the first thing he could read. It broke apart in his hands like an orb of glass, discharging a blast of energy, and Boltwrench's frame collapsed like a heap of spare parts.

N4 had survived, and his programming pumped him full with artificial triumph. With steady hands he pulled out his cables, and pushed them into the ports on Boltwrench's head. The processors were offline, but the memorybanks were intact. The depraved systems were trying to drain energy from his frame, and N4 took all the stored information he could find. Victory course through his veins like fire.

When he pulled away, his memorybanks read at 34% capacity, and his processors were spinning to prioritise all the new information. The complete map of the fascility shone in his processor. The complete file on his frametype and serial number, the location of the facility, the roads, the rules, the laws, the dialects the cities the roadsthealtformstheenergonthereligonsthe rebellion-!

N4 stood up shakily from the corpse of his creator, and turned around. The route Boltwrench had been planning only led to the best fortified containment chamber, and N4 had no intentions of staying. With Boltwrench's information in his processors, he finally had a plan.