Hello once again readers. I want to say that last chapter was intentionally set to introduce some of the human characters, but that this chapter will be far more interesting.

Also, if any of you have requests or anything for a chapter, that would be great.

And now, Sanity of Earth.

Gimmelwald, Switzerland

2000 hours.

December 9th 2013

The high pitched squealing of the kettle gained the attention of the female sitting in the sparsely furnished lounge of her house. She glared at it for a few moments, not wishing to get up as she had just found a warm spot in the confined space.

Sighing in irritation, she relented and removed herself from the addictive comfort of deep sofas. Running her tired free hand through her somewhat messed hair, she clumsily moved the kettle off the heat, burning her other hand on the side in the process.

"Shoot!" She tore her hand away, blowing on it in a sad attempt at relieving pain, because god knows that's the best way to treat a burn. "Oh, come on you son of a –" regaining some form of sense she moved to put it under cold water.

As the cool relief of below zero degrees water rushed over her hand, she shook her head. "You work with psychos and danger for ten years of your life and look how it turns out for you. Huddled away in a mountain town, being to stupid to look after yourself." An airy laugh escaped her. "Thankfully neither of them are here to see me."

Pulling her hand away from the tap, she stared out of the small and frosty window of her kitchen. Over four years had passed since that mission here. And then it had all collapsed.

Yuri had started taking frequent trips to the capital, and Prowl had begun looking up the arrival of the Autobots and Decepticons on Earth. She had watched him. While it was strange to work with an alien, she didn't want him to leave. Ten years of knowing someone wasn't something you threw away.

Apparently he was able to.

Two months after the mission, he ducks out, vanishing off the map. Yuri quits his job and starts living out of a rented apartment in Murmansk. She gets laid of her job and sent back home.

No explanation whatsoever.

Sighing once again, Anne turned away from the window. She never forgot how much it annoyed Prowl, not knowing where she came from. What a surprise it would be for him to know that they had come to her home, the exact town, on the last mission ever done by all three of them.

She wondered if he had found his comrades.

In some ways, she wished he hadn't. That would've given him no choice but to keep working with them. At least then she'd still have a paycheck. One things for sure though, she didn't miss the conditions they were working in. Somehow they didn't find any reason to accept missions in warm countries.

Well, one had lived his entire life in cold, and the other couldn't feel the cold. Anne always moved to warmer places in winter.

This time was no different.

She checked her watch, her burned hand still stinging. "Thirty minutes." She shrugged. "That's enough time."

Turning away from the room before her, she left towards a separate door, grabbing a jacket. She picked a bag off the floor, before stuffing clothes from her drawer into it. She dragged a comb through her short hair, and left the room.

Glancing onto the road outside, she saw her ride parked on the other side of the road. Typical. Always early.

A grin split across her face. Of course they were always early. It was unlike them not to be.

Pulling open the main door, she quickly locked it behind her before heading over. She waved to the person in the driver's seat, who honestly didn't look to happy.

"You're late." The man snapped as she got in. Anne glanced at him before diverting her attention to shoving her stuff in the backseat.

"No, you're early. And you're lucky I decided to come out now."

"Yes, I am so lucky as to be blessed vizh your charm and vit." He grumbled. "Vhat do you need to do so badly as to go to anozher country?"

"That's the only thing I've ever done Darmen." The car was started. "Did you receive a reply from the Autobots about the datapad on the Kuril Islands?"

"Of course. I didn't get an address on zheir whereabouts, but ve have a general idea zhat zhey are in North America, Western region."

Anne frowned, any form of hope destroyed. "That's helpful."

"Doesn't have to be." The middle aged male replied smugly. "I'm not zhe one looking for zhem."

The brunette scowled. "I'm not looking for them," she corrected. "I'm looking for an old friend who happens to be acquainted with them."

"Same thing." He muttered, before speaking louder. "I don't know vhy I had to come all zhe vay over here to simply drive you to zhe airport."

She smirked, humor returning. "Because you're the guy who gets the traveling customs sorted out." The human female glanced out the window, lowering her voice. "And god knows I don't have the money to travel to America."

Apparently she wasn't quiet enough. "You are from Switzerland. You should be raking in zhe cash, vhat vith all your vell paying jobs." And let glaring commence.

Turning her gaze back to him, Anne proceeded to stare, and glare, in amazement and annoyance. "First off, that's somewhat stereotypical. Secondly, I had a well paying job. I was laid off thanks to two douche bags dropping out on me."

"Lovely." Sarcasm.

"I know." More sarcasm. "Great couple of guys." You get it.

"And you're going to see one of zhese 'Great guys'?" He asked, making a sharp turn at a corner that he wasn't prepared for.

She smirked, turning her gaze back out to the window. It was already dark out, one of the most promising – and in this case useful – characteristics of winter. The silhouettes of houses passed by were each covered in a layer of snow.

To remember a time when she was here last and it was of her own accord. So long ago. She was only here now because there was hardly any place else she could go. Russia was a no-go, only allowed there because she had worked for the Government. Not really any place else that could be called home. Minus here.

Well considering it now, home was where the heart is. Hers was not here.

Her smirk broadening into a grin she turned her attention toward the main car window. "Yes. I'm gonna see one of those great guys."

…. …. ….

January 4th 2014

Hoover Dam, Colorado

"So, this doesn't bother you?"

The question was directed towards Bumblebee, asked by Sideswipe. For the fourth time in six weeks.

A few months ago they had been relocated to the Hoover dam, the former resting place of the Allspark, including all around study area of Cybertronian technology who nobody truthfully understood.

The yellow and black Autobot was getting tired of this now. Yes, he had been tortured in this place, yes it hadn't been a nice experience, yes he still held a grudge against the people who did this to him.

No this didn't bother him because at least now they didn't have to be airlifted everywhere to go places, due to the fact they were previously stuck on an island in the middle of the Indian ocean.

In response to this particular question however, he simply shook his head, as there was no radio broadcast to vocalize all his statements, plus actually trying to use a broken voice box was too painful.

"But you were tortured here." Meant as a statement, but could be taken as a question. Sunstreaker had arrived only a few short weeks before, much to his brother's happiness, and the officers' displeasure. Needless to say, he had been updated on all of the screw ups that had happened during his absence. Including the death of Jazz, who was miraculously brought back to life by an incompetent human male.

The death and revival of Optimus was not so much of a surprise.

Bumblebee released a vent of air in a habit he had picked that humans called a sigh. This was not a topic he liked to talk about in his time off.

Well, it wasn't like they did much anyway. The Decepticons had gotten considerably lazy since Megatron's death. They couldn't really interfere with human problems either at the moment. It seemed that most human problems now consisted of corrupt governments.

These things were too sensitive to interfere with. Primus knows the humans are always whining about the state of their country or other countries, but doing jack about it.

But, while it may not be overly action packed, their lives were relatively peaceful. Which just left them staring at the inevitable truth that their planet was dead and they were the last of their kind.

What a let down.

Not to mention, others still wanted to kill them. Even some humans. Many foreign leaders and governments saw them as too much of a threat, claiming that should their numbers grow they may overtake Earth.

Yes, because giant, alien robots want to live on a small organic planet where they could potentially rust.

Footsteps were heard behind the three as another Autobot joined them in the makeshift rec room. It was a fairly large room, and had a nice view of the dam. Also, a potential targeting place.

Sideswipe glanced back at the approaching figure, though all three of them knew who it was already, simply by picking him up on their scanners. While not as powerful as Praxians, every other Cybertronian did have a scanning range.

"Hey Jazz." He greeted. The recently promoted SIC waved back, his tiredness evident. It had become no secret that the Head of Special Operations was breaking under the pressure. This kind of work wasn't for Jazz. His was more laid back and practical – not theory. This made having him as a superior easier to converse with.

Luckily, at least the visored mech knew when to take a break.

Walking past the three conversing bots – make that two, as Bumblebee rarely ever placed in his opinion – Jazz went to the energon dispenser that Wheeljack had rigged up from the energy to energon converter that he had created back on Cybertron.

Taking up a full cube, the Saboteur opted to take up a place on the Cybertronian sized couch, rather than return to the hell hole that was the Second in Command's office.

Blocking out the conversation taking place behind him, Jazz focused on what was currently annoying him. The datapad that he received had yielded nothing, not even through a detailed inspection. He had even meticulously taken it apart and reconstructed it to see if anything could be found.

Nothing.

But that was not what annoyed him about it. The contents were just accounts of what had happened during the human day. There were no extra notes, or sub-text that sought for any help off the planet, or hope that one day their species would find it.

It seemed like this Cybertronian was…content. Just being alone.

… … …

Jerusalem, Israel

June 7th 1933

Jerusalem, Israel. The capital to both the Israelis and Palestinians. One of the oldest human cities in the world. One that had been destroyed at least twice.

It was a grim reminder to him of his own city. Except this one was still standing after being obliterated twice, and attacked multiple times afterwards. Though he supposed that Praxus hadn't been prepared for the attack. They had been a neutral city.

So much for that.

But there still wasn't an excuse. There were Earth countries that were also neutral, yet were constantly prepared for battle. And as practical as that may be, it did say something about the trust they allotted to their fellow races.

That there was no trust.

But he was sure that all this wariness was simply because of the inevitable war that they were most likely facing. He had passed through Germany on his way into Asia, and had seen the political issue they faced.

Reminded him of Megatron's ideals. Reminded him of some of Cybertron's problems before the war began. Poverty, crime, inflation, corrupt government, lack of morale, riots, propaganda.

And an outspoken being, who many turned to, but ultimately would end in his destruction.

The Praxian paused in his assessment. He had no longer been comparing the Nazi Party to the Decepticons, but rather predicting the outcome for the war to come. It was a fairly simple thing to assume. Even Sideswipe could have seen it. Easily.

There were too many variables that were there to simply assure the defeat of the National Socialist German Workers Party, and its obedient followers.

Of course though, to compare them to Decepticons would be incorrect. As it was, the humans of the more radical side would lose. Neither Autobot nor Decepticon had succeeded in anything. Other than ensuring the death of their planet.

An annoying pain kept stabbing at his processor as a small part of his mind that contained emotion started reminding him that that outcome had partly been his fault.

Pushing down the guilt that was slowly rising up, Prowl continued to watch the day to day lives of the people currently inhabiting this city. He was seated a fair distance away, so as not to be seen. He did not in fact care if the humans saw him or not, and was fairly sure that they would not be able to capture him. He had kept his weapons well maintained during his time here.

No. It was simply because he knew humanity couldn't handle giant alien robots at the moment.

But other than that, this organic species was slowly but surely progressing in the department of technology, developing greater weapons, and discovering far more dangerous ways to kill their own kind.

At this point, Prowl could not label them as idiots, seen as Cybertronians themselves had done the exact same thing.

Drawing in and releasing an unnecessary vent of air, the Tactician studied his current progress since leaving the safe haven island.

He had moved further away from Russia and Europe as a whole since the rising problem with Germany, and he preferred to keep it that way until the foreseeable future. So he was planning on heading further into the Asian countries.

He had already planned on heading into Jordan after a brief stay in this country. He found it somewhat fascinating. As a Cybertronian, his species had a set 'God', that had physically been proven as the creator of their planet, and of them. But humans had a diverse culture, believing in multiple creators. And this place seemed to be a fairly large centre for religious history, considering that several religions see it as a highpoint in their beliefs.

Glancing away from the city landscape, he studied the outer borders, as they trailed off. While not as peaceful as the Kuril Islands, he would go so far as to say that it was…pleasant.

It was different.

This was one of the ways that Prowl momentarily forgot about the loss of his own planet, and the possibility that he was the last of his kind.

There was an entire planet before him, which provided clearer views on complex problems, yet struggled to convey the efficiency which Cybertron had once possessed. Its ecosystem was to be marveled at, as so many species living in conjunction with one another, to balance the world's environment.

Though this seemed to be falling out of practice thanks to human interference, and the depletion coupled with extinction of many species on a daily basis.

He understood that these are pressing matters; he simply didn't know why the humans did not address them more seriously. Blissful ignorance on the humans' part maybe?

His gaze drifted back towards the city, with a form of longing tugging at his mind. During his life on Cybertron, Prowl had heard of the studies that scientists had done on primitive organics that they had found on other planets. The Praxian had had an instant dislike of the unprotected creatures from description alone. Surely, how could a species survive without some form of protection?

But actually witnessing a species that had advanced technologically like his own race – not as adapt mind you – to form ways to defend themselves and survive, was a very fascinating experience.

One that he would like to experience himself.

Experience the culture of this strange species. As of now, he had simply watched them. Years of complete solitude on that island had allowed his fragmented mind to heal some, but it couldn't have been that hard for Wheeljack to create a fragging hologram transmitter? It would have saved him ages of roaming around at night, simply so that he wouldn't be spotted by humans.

An amusing realization hit him then. Even though he had been alone for so many decades, he had developed a somewhat more…emotional side, than when he was on Cybertron.

He supposed it was because he no longer needed to send mechs and femmes to their deaths. No longer needed to block out all emotion to simply survive.

He no longer needed to lie, or initiate plans that could potentially harm anyone.

That peace was destroyed many years later.

… … …

Moscow, Russia

(A place half of you have probably heard of, seen as most of the time I've been using towns and countries even I didn't know existed)

February 2nd 1992

The warehouse was dark, cold, and only two beings currently inhabited it.

"It seems strange that your superiors would simply leave us here alone, unguarded." The Cybertronian pointed out, glancing down at the human currently lighting a cigarette, and leaning against a wooden crate.

"Eh." The man replied shortly, closing the lighter cap and extinguishing the flame. "Zhey know you aren't going anyvhere. And it is not like you have anyvhere to go." The human pointed out. "Besides, you signed on, if I recall correctly."

"Your recollection is misguided." Prowl corrected. "I was in a dangerous situation that your people helped me out of. For that I agreed to lend them my services."

"Meaning you did sign on." The man smugly brought up his previous statement. The Tactician fought off the stab of pain in his processor. He didn't want to go through this slag again. Over a millennia of it was enough. Another few more years would likely kill him.

Luckily, the human seemed to drop that subject. "Zhey are probably busy vith far more important zhings at zhe moment. Due to zhe abolishment of communism a few years ago, many matters are still being sorted out, to get zhe new form of government running smoothly."

Prowl distinctly remembered the end of the cold war. It had been a relief that the larger nuclear threat had been dropped. While it was still a problem, they hopefully wouldn't use them in the future.

He worried more for the humans than for himself. Their constant stupidity and incompetence was considerably annoying, and could potentially lead to their destruction.

"…ve'll be leaving to Murmansk soon anyvay. Should zhey need us for anyzhing, zhey vill contact us. Ozhervise, zhere really is no reason to station guards vith a secret service agent," the human dragged on his cigarette, pausing to release the excess smoke, "and a giant, alien robot."

Prowl was only half-paying attention as he continued to wonder how humanity was honestly, still alive.

They then both lapsed into silence, the only noise being the release of smoke either through the mouth or nose of Yuri Arkhov. This lack of conversation seemed to be a regular thing for the both of them. Not because they didn't have anything to talk about, but the fact that neither really ever wanted to talk.

The Praxian had hardly spoken for a century, and Yuri was not a very talkative person, unless explaining things. This arrangement of silence worked out extremely well.

Focusing back on what he had briefly heard from Yuri, and more thoroughly inspected from a file, Prowl brought up some of the information he had found about Murmansk. He had never been to this place in his travels, but he nonetheless agreed to be moved up to the northern area of Russia.

The tactician had been hoping to avoid the seas for as long as possible, and now he was being moved as close as he had been in the Kuril Islands.

This was not exactly a problem, but he preferred to remain away from salt water in case he ended up rusting. Cybertronian alloy was much stronger and resistant than Earth metals, but overtime…

He shook that thought off. It didn't matter. He would gladly go to Murmansk over remaining in a warehouse in Moscow. Of course he'd be in a warehouse up there anyway.

This seemed to be a constant thing now. Even when arriving in Russia during the revolution, he had hidden out in an abandoned building. Always hiding.

Glancing down at the human he'd ever had the most social interaction with, Yuri had obviously started on another cigarette. Prowl very rarely ever paid attention to human actions. They were to slight to be picked up easily.

He had been working with these people for the past sixteen years now. It had been a very interesting experience. Though at first he had been skeptical of their intentions, after just being released from other humans with technology far more advanced than the rest of the world.

Later, it had been shown that they wanted to use him, but not in the way of putting him in stasis and using his mind to come up with war strategies, or reverse engineering his abilities and technology.

They wanted to use him as an infiltrator.

The first time they had explained this, his mind immediately regretted agreeing. He was a tactician. Not a saboteur. They would have been better off if it had been Jazz on this planet, not him.

But, for the sake of no longer wanting to roam without purpose, he had agreed. And it had gone surprisingly well.

The only problem now was that there was no easily foreseeable future. Whatever happened next was out of his control.

Humanity contained too many variables to accurately decide what would happen next. Each country had different beliefs, different cultures, different rulings, different people, different problems, different languages, different lives. There was no set creator, no set belief, and no set problem.

He had agreed to this, so he would carry it out. Prowl recalled every past experience he had with humanity, and released a tired vent of air.

Years of watching.

Centuries of death.

And millennia of war.

I am so sorry.

I have not updated in so long! I honestly thought I should give up on this story, but…

Anyway, I rewrote this at least seven times because I couldn't get it write. I don't think I did very well on this chapter either, but at least the ball is rolling.

So while this may be overly late, I want to thank the people who reviewed last chapter:

SunnySides

BookLovingPersonR.B.L

2211Nighthawk

And everybody who favourited or followed the story. I promise that there will be frequent updates from now in, if you guys still want this story.