I'm really sorry this took so long to post. I was having some intense writer's block. I'm not sure if I'll be able to finish this story or not by Halloween, but I will still do my best. I've also entered into a writing competition between my cousin and myself so at least I'll be writing a lot for the next two months or so.

As always I don't own anything. There will likely be a slightly different version posted elsewhere (because I don't really want to test Fanfiction's upload policy nor do I feel like changing the rating). Please let me know if you spot any errors (continuity, grammar, and/or spelling). I hope you enjoy.

Prowl was conscious, but he couldn't move. The reanimated mechs who held him had managed to paralyze him somehow. Perhaps they were sentient, or perhaps their puppet master knew Prowl's weakest points. They had been dragging Prowl for quite a while now and he had no idea where he was, but he could guess.

Despite being underground, Prowl's unique processor had been calculating his location since he and Bumblebee had descended into the depths of Praxus. He knew his likely destination and it filled him with dread.

The Northern Temple of Praxus held nothing but bad memories.

The reanimated mechs continued their underground trek. It was dark, with a few patches of light shining through cracks in the ceiling. The dark cycle was fast approaching. Prowl's optics provided some illumination, but not much. There was also an odd glow in the far distance, but then again, his processor might have been playing tricks on him.

Onwards they went. Prowl's peds dragged across the uneven ground. He tried to focus on his calculations and equations, but through the cool, calm logic, he was starting to feel a flicker of panic. Why was this happening now, right when they were about to start rebuilding? Megatron was gone, but what kind of evil had the mad mech attracted?

Prowl recalled when Megatron had first risen to power. He had been charismatic, rough, but not needlessly cruel outside of the gladiator arena. Prowl remembered a time when he had read some of the poetry and essays the Depeticon warlord had written, though it was many vorns before the tactician had known Megatron had written them. Megatron hadn't been the psychotic dictator then.

What had changed?

Could Barricade have really lured Megatron into the servos of Unicron? Is that really what had happened? Or had the warlord always had those evil tendencies? Did contact with the crystals exaggerate traits that were already present?

Had the reanimated mechs also taken Bluestreak?

Prowl had a lot of question, ones that were unlikely to be ever answered. At least that was what his battle computer was telling him.

He was lost in his processor and barely taking in his surroundings anymore. He was starting to feel drowsy and there was a strange vibration in the air. Prowl didn't notice when they stopped moving.

"Well, well, well," chuckled a deep voice. "I had wondered if you were going to be joining us today. I do hope you are ready to finish what we started."

Prowl lifted his gaze away from the ground, but could not see the speaker. It wasn't a mystery as to who it was. Barricade's voice had haunted his recharge cycles for many vorns, both the child that he had been and the monster he had become.

Barricade laughed. "Can you not see me Prowl? Does the darkness confuse you? I find that it's a wonderful place to lurk."

"Don't forget that the darkness is always banished by light," Prowl replied in a flat voice.

Barricade jumped down from his perch on the ceiling and landed in front of Prowl. Prowl could only track Barricade's movements by his brilliant red optics. They were standing so close that their armor was lightly brushing up against each other.

Quick as lightening, Barricade grabbed Prowl's chin and titled his helm to an uncomfortable angle. The reanimated mechs holding Prowl remained still as statues. Barricade searched Prowl's optics for some unknown information.

"The Prime has healed you too well," said Barricade. "But it wasn't enough to completely cure you." He caressed Prowl's cheek in a mock show of affection.

"How are you here?" asked Prowl.

"So surprised?" mocked Barricade. "I would have thought you'd have liked my little art project? I wanted to impress that amazing processor of yours."

Prowl had no idea what Barricade was talking about, but he wasn't about to let the deranged mech know that. He stared at Barricade, hoping he would continue to gloat while he worked on a means of escape.

"You arrived early. I would have thought it would have taken you a few more orns. Ah well, you can keep the youngling company while we finish preparing." Barricade gave Prowl a toothy smile. He had razor sharp denta, filed to points.

Prowl's processor froze. Youngling! Did he mean Bluestreak?

"What have you done with Bluestreak?" asked Prowl.

Barricade smiled. "He has been spirited away, like us."

"That is not an answer," said Prowl. Barricade's hold on his chin was beginning to strain his neck cables.

"Don't be so impatient, Prowl," said Barricade slowly saying Prowls name, as though to a lover. "We have only just started getting reacquainted. I will take you to the mechling eventually."

Barricade brought his face within millimeters of Prowl's. His other servo started drifting up one of Prowl's doorwings. "Now that our positions have been reversed, I am very tempted to see just how well your emotions have returned. I'm curious, you see, as to how well the Matrix heals a mech who was tainted by Unicron."

"Perhaps, proximity to the Matrix might have helped heal you as well," said Prowl.

Barricade snarled and dug his claws into the doorwing he was gripping. "I am what I was always meant to be, the herald of Unicron."

"And here I was under the impression that that was Megatron's job," said Prowl.

Barricade threw back his helm, letting go of Prowl in the process, and laughed. "Megatron was meant as another offering. I tried to tempt him into the depths of Praxus, but he seemed more interested in destroying our cursed city. He was weak."

"Or too headstrong for you to manipulate properly," said Prowl. "It seems you are a poor herald."

Smack!

Prowl's helm had been whipped over his shoulder. Barricade heavily circulated air through his vents. They remained in silence for what felt like vorns, but was really only a couple of breems.

"Tell me Barricade, why did the ceremony fail the first time? Did our original host forget some minor detail?" asked Prowl. He knew he shouldn't bait the deranged mech, but it was the one question about all this that still bothered him most. Why hadn't Unicron been summoned all those vorns ago.

Barricade snorted. "You want a story time? Fine! That dead priest had just been repeating those same actions over and over again since he first became a ghost. We weren't the first to be dragged down here. Where did you think all those old stories came from?"

"And yet, you seem to think that this time will work," said Prowl.

"Primus is weak Prowl, our war made sure that," said Barricade. "Our benevolent god always made sure that the ceremony failed. Did you really think that you were able to escape all on your own? Now that Cybertron is in ruins and Primus their attention elsewhere, the ceremony can be complete. Unicron will be unstoppable." Barricade paused for a klik.

"Huh, perhaps Megatron wasn't as useless as I thought."

As Barricade finished speaking another figured materialized out of the darkness. The mech's colors were in the inverse of the colors Primus' priests should have been in. He was blue where he should have been red and red where he should have been blue.

"Herald," said the mech in voice that must not have spoken in an eon. "You have brought us the witness."

"Of course I did," snapped Barricade. "I have been far more productive than you ever were."

"Arrogance is unbecoming of you," said the ghost. "I've planned this day for eons and it seems that all my waiting was for not."

Prowl watched the exchange with a blank look on his face, though his processor seemed to be working twice as hard as usual. If only he could move.

Barricade huffed in annoyance. "Whatever old mech," he snarled.

"Optimus Prime knows I'm here," said Prowl suddenly. He wasn't sure why he was speaking, but as illogical as it was, it felt empowering to say. "He will come looking for me when I don't check in."

Barricade got very close to Prowl's face again. "Let him come," he said. "I always liked having an audience when I ripped out a spark."

"Barricade!" snapped the ghost.

Barricade growled. "Why don't I show you where you'll be staying while we finish with the preparations? You always seemed to be a few steps ahead of everyone else. I really shouldn't have been so surprised."

Barricade snapped his fingers and the reanimated mechs dragged Prowl forward.

"I do not think it is wise to put them together," said the ghost.

"Why?" asked Barricade. "Worried they'll escape? Heh heh. Prowl might be brilliant, but even he has limits. Besides, family reunions are always so touching."

Prowl glared at the ground in front of him. For once, his processor wasn't coming up with any ideas on getting himself free. Perhaps when he saw Bluestreak he'd create a better plan.

Barricade turned on his headlights to provide some extra light. Prowl wasn't sure if it was for Barricade's benefit or not because the reanimated mechs didn't seem to need it and he doubted Barricade wanted to give Prowl more information for him to plot an escape.

They arrived at a solid door. Out of the corner of his optic, Prowl watched as Barricade felt along the wall. It took the deranged mech a few kliks to find the mechanism to open the door. With a loud squeak, it swung open on rusty hinges. Prowl was dragged in to the dark room.

Bluestreak raised his helm up at the sudden source of light entering his prison. His optics were overly bright and his vents were working overtime. He tried to move closer to the entryway, but he was stopped by his bound servos held securely to a pole running from floor to ceiling. His doorwings were also chained securely to the wall behind him. He was stuck in a kneeling position.

"Bluestreak," said Prowl softly, taking in all of the hurts the young mech that he had helped raised had obtained.

"Prowl?" said an uncertain Bluestreak, blinded by the headlights.

"Aw, so cute," giggled Barricade. He followed Prowl and the reanimated mechs into the dark room. "See Prowl, he is safe and whole. I think the chains are a nice touch too. He just looks better all tied up."

Barricade walked up to the younger Praxian and pinched his cheek. Bluestreak cried out in pain.

"Don't touch me," Bluestreak snapped.

"He's older than the priest wanted, but who wants to wait around for a sparkling to show up when all the other conditions are prefect? Still he'll make a pretty vassal for the Unmaker." He let go of Bluestreak who leaned as far away as he could from the deranged mech.

"Frag you," spat Bluestreak.

"Don't tempt me," said Barricade wiggling his servo at Bluestreak. He turned to look at where the reanimated mechs stood with Prowl. "Just drop him there."

The reanimated mechs let go of Prowl. Prowl fell face first into the ground. Barricade sauntered over and grabbed Prowl by the back of his neck and lifted him up.

"Oh dear, here let me help you there," said Barricade in a sickly sweet voice. His claws dug in to the back of Prowl's helm. It hurt, but Prowl wasn't about to let Barricade know that. The less information he gave now the more surprises he would have for later.

"Stop it!" yelled Bluestreak. He pulled at his bindings, but could not get any closer. "Stop it you fragger!"

"He's a mouthy little mech," said Barricade grabbing hold of one of Prowl's arms with his other servo. "He certainly didn't learn that language from you. I don't think you even know how to curse."

Barricade roughly chained Prowl's servos together. Prowl could do nothing to resist. He was still as limp as a rag doll. Barricade seemed to enjoy Prowl's helplessness. The deranged mech looped the chains over another pipe protruding from the ceiling and lifted Prowl off of the ground.

"You make such a cute doll Prowl," said Barricade. "Like the ones Chop Shop used to have." He laughed at his own joke as he left the room and sealed the two other mechs in.

Bluestreak and Prowl were left in pitch darkness and a numbing silence that was broken by two sets of vents working overtime. In any other circumstances he might have rolled his optics at the extremes Barricade went to subdue him. Now he needed a clear processor.

There was still a chance that Bumblebee would be able to find them and free them before whatever the priest and Barricade were planning was ready. It was most likely a fool's hope. Prowl's calculations told him the odds of Bumblebee finding both him and Bluestreak were low. The odds of making it to freedom were even lower.

"Prowl?" croaked Bluestreak. "Are you, um, are you in any pain?"

"I'm fine," said Prowl slowly.

"I'm sorry, I was so stupid," said Bluestreak. He sounded as close to tears as a Cybertronian could get. "I should have tried harder to verify that you had sent that message. I should have waited for confirmation. I should I have gone to Iacon first! I should have-!"

"Bluestreak," said Prowl with as much fondness as he could in the state he was in. "What has happened has happened. We need to focus on what happens next."

Prowl heard the chains rattle as Bluestreak adjusted the position his wings were at. "You're right," said Bluestreak. "I'm sorry I caused all this. But you're right. Would you like to debrief me sir?"

Prowl managed a weak smile that he knew the younger mech couldn't see. "I think formalities are unnecessary right now. Tell me are you hurt? Do you know how you ended up here?"

"I'm alright," said Bluestreak. "What about you?"

"I'll survive," said Prowl.

Bluestreak swallowed a lump in his intake. "I'm not sure how I got in this cell. I remember landing in Praxus and looking for you. I'm not sure what happened after, but I woke up in a dark room. I found a way out under the berth, but I was still underground. I followed someone, at least I think it was someone, who led me to an opening, but then Barricade was there. He knocked me out and I woke up here."

Prowl let his engine hum in an attempt to sooth the distressed mech. It caused a minor ache in his abdomen. Bluestreak's story was eerily similar to what had happened to him many vorns ago. He had had no memories of his abduction too.

"Prowl," said Bluestreak, interrupting the older Praxian's thoughts. "Do you know what's going on?"

Prowl wished he could lie, but he couldn't do that to Bluestreak. Bluestreak hadn't been a youngling in a very long time. He was a warrior who had earned his place in the Autobot army. Still, the truth was beyond probable. Bluestreak might think he was going insane.

"Yes," said Prowl slowly. "I know what they are planning. They wish to awaken Unicron."

"Unicron?" asked Bluestreak. "He's a myth."

"He's very real," said Prowl. "With Cybertron weak, it would be easy for Unicron to take over."

They sat in silence for a few breems. Bluestreak wrapping his processor over what Prowl had said. Bluestreak didn't have the greatest faith in those old stories. Oh sure he believed in the Matrix, he had witnessed what Optimus Prime could do, but Primus and Unicron were just myths to him.

"I wouldn't have thought you would believe in Unicron," said Bluestreak, breaking the silence.

"It's not that I believe in him," said Prowl. "I've seen what he can do."

Since it's late my time I figured I should end this post with a happy "Good night"