Good evening everyone. I'm not going to lie, but I'm very sad that this story is over (despite how long it took me to write). This final chapter is how I always wanted to end this fic. It is tough saying goodbye to another story. Maybe now I can focus on my original novels...who am I kidding, I'll be back on this site posting stories within a year.

As always I don't own the characters. Please let me know if you spot any continuity, grammar, and/or spelling errors.

Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoy the ending.

Bumblebee stood stunned for a moment as he watched Barricade's frame disintegrate much like the evil priest's had. The crystal in his hand didn't have any energon on it from his fallen foes. As the last of Barricade's frame crumbled away, Bumblebee was snapped back to reality with the realization that Prowl was hurt.

"Primus," Bumblebee gasped as he crouched down by his commander. He gently examined the wound in Prowl's neck and searched for a pulse. There wasn't one. Bumblebee tried to find any sign of life from Prowl.

Bumblebee flinched as another mech kneel next to him. It took him a klik to realize it was Bluestreak and not one of the ghostly Praxians. Bluestreak took one of Prowl's servos and pulled it up to nuzzle against his cheek. It was already grey.

"Blue," said Bumblebee as he gripped Bluestreak's shoulder. "I'm so sorry. I should have gotten there sooner."

Bluestreak met Bumblebee's optics. His doorwings were shaking with suppressed sobs. "It's al-alright," he managed to say.

Above the two grieving mechs, Thundercracker groaned. Bumblebee and Bluestreak looked up as the seeker pushed himself off the altar. Thundercracker tried to stay upright, but his legs wouldn't support him. He slowly eased himself onto the ground. His vents hitched as he saw Prowl's grey form.

Thundercracker opened his mouth to say something, then immediately shut it. He kept his optics lowered and clutched a dent in his left side, venting hard. Bumblebee shifted from his spot next to Prowl to see if there was anything he could do, but the seeker shrunk away.

"Please let me see your side," said Bumblebee.

"It's just a dent," said Thundercracker.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" Bumblebee asked in earnest. "You were knocked out."

"I'm fine," said Thundercracker as he shifted further from Bumblebee's outstretched servo.

"Let Bee help you," said Bluestreak in a much calmer voice. His shaking had stopped. Bumblebee thought he sounded a little like Prowl commanding Sunstreaker to let Ratchet heal him after a battle. Thundercracker reluctantly allowed Bumblebee to examine him. None of the seeker's injuries were life threatening and could wait until they got back to Iacon.

That is if they didn't run into any more trouble.

"Do you think the zombie mechs are gone?" Thundercracker asked.

Bumblebee shrugged. "No idea."

"Zombie mechs?" asked Bluestreak. He still held on tightly to Prowl's servo. "Is that what those things were?"

"More or less," said Bumblebee.

Thundercracker gazed down at Prowl's grey frame. Energon was still gently seeping out of the wound in the corpse's neck. Bumblebee hadn't even noticed the splotches of it on his hands and faceplates as he looked at Thundercracker's side. If one of them had been kliks sooner, Prowl might still be alive.

"I'm sorry," said Thundercracker. "I'm so very sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry about," said Bumblebee with a frown.

Thundercracker shuttered his optics and clutched his side. "I have a lot to be sorry for," he muttered.

Bluestreak stood from his crouched position next to Prowl. He was covered in scratches and energon. He studied Thundercracker's defeated form, then shook his helm.

"I should have reacted faster," said Thundercracker. "I might have saved him."

"Maybe," said Bluestreak quietly. "Maybe you'd have died instead of Prowl or you both would have died. Does it really matter?"

"You should hate me," said Thundercracker unshuttering his optics, but looking everywhere except at Bluestreak. Bumblebee felt like he was intruding on a very private matter between the two bots.

"I forgave you a long time ago," said Bluestreak.

It was awkward watching the two other mechs try to communicate vorns of unresolved emotions and questions. They needed a moment without an audience. Bumblebee turned away from them and jumped as he came face to face with Prowl or at least the faint outline of Prowl.

"Prowl," gasped Bumblebee drawing the attention of Bluestreak and Thundercracker.

"Primus," said Bluestreak. "Prowl are you…?"

"I'm sorry Bluestreak, but I am very much dead," said Prowl, answering the question Bluestreak hesitated to ask. His voice was distant and had a slight echo to it, like the other ghosts Bumblebee and Thundercracker had encountered. Prowl's doorwings resting against his back in a relaxed pose. They had never rested like that while the mech was alive.

"I-I'm going to m-miss you," said Bluestreak with a slight shake to his voice.

"And I you," said Prowl with a slight sigh. He approached Bluestreak and gently cupped a servo to Bluestreak's cheek. "I'm so proud of you." He turned to Bumblebee. "Both of you."

"Prowl?" asked a small voice. By the door near the altar stood the small ghost of Barricade. "Are you coming Prowl?"

Prowl's ghostly image nodded. "Do great things," said Prowl. "The war is over. Now is the time to live."

Prowl turned away from the living mechs and approached the ghostly image of Barricade. The little ghost youngling reached out a tiny servo to Prowl. "Is it finally over?" young Barricade asked Prowl.

"I don't know," said Prowl.

Together the two ghosts stepped through the doorway and back into the catacombs under the northern temple. Slowly their images faded until there was only a faint glow in the distance. Bluestreak moved over to Prowl's body and lifted the grey frame over his shoulder. Thundercracker pushed himself off the altar to help.

"Any ideas on how we get out of here?" asked Bluestreak.

"Nope," admitted Bumblebee.

Thundercracker pointed through the doorway the ghosts of Prowl and Barricade had disappeared down. "Look," he said.

In the distance the faint glow became brighter and brighter until a small blue orb was floating in front of them. It danced for a moment in the air before gliding back through the doorway.

"I think he wants us to follow," said Thundercracker.

"Are you sure?" asked Bluestreak. "What if it's leading us into a trap?"

"He isn't," said Thundercracker gently touching his chest plates, right over his spark chamber.

They followed the orb through the dark tunnels. Bluestreak and Thundercracker in the lead carrying Prowl's body between them, while Bumblebee covered their rear. The yellow minibot would occasionally slap the walls to make sure they weren't being lead to a dead-end.

The blue orb continued to light their path until they reached an area where the tunnel had collapsed and created a slope easy to climb back up to the surface. Carefully, they climbed up from the darkness, making sure not to further damage Prowl's body. All three froze when they reached their freedom.

They were surrounded by hundreds, maybe thousands, of orbs. Each faintly glowed like distant stars. The orb which had been leading the three mechs, approached and took on the distinct form of a Praxian mech.

"Thank you," said the ghostly image of Grayscale. "You've freed us."

"It was the least I could do for you," Thundercracker said thickly.

Grayscale glanced at Bluestreak. The young mech was tense, his doorwings held low against his back. "You've grown so much," said the ghost.

Bluestreak opened his mouth, but no words would come out. Bumblebee grabbed onto Bluestreak's shaking servo and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"Please look after each other," said Grayscale to Bluestreak. "You both deserve peace."

Grayscale's form began to fade. The other orbs began to rise to the sky. Bluestreak reached out to Grayscale. "Please don't leave," he begged.

"We'll always be with you," said Grayscale, he was almost completely translucent. "Both of you."

Grayscale's form completely dissipated back into an orb and float up towards the sky. Bumblebee found the whole scene oddly beautiful, like watching fireflies dance back on Earth. He squeezed Bluestreak's servo again and his friend managed a soft squeeze back. His doorwings were still trembling.

As the orbs reached the sky, their glow merging with the stars above. Thundercracker adjusted his grip on Prowl's body so that he could take all the dead mech's weight, freeing Bluestreak. The young Praxian allowed himself to sink to his knees and finally release all the emotions he had been holding in. His sobs caused his body to shake. Bumblebee kept a firm hand on his friend's shoulder.

"I'm here for you," said Bumblebee rubbing one of Bluestreak's doorwings. "Just let it all out." It took Bluestreak a few breems to let everything out. His sobs echoed around the destroyed landscape. It took some time, but he managed to get his venting under control.

Thundercracker honestly expected the young Praxian to attack him once he had settled down, but it wasn't in Bluestreak's nature to do that. Instead, Blustreak approached the seeker and sighed. It took him another few kliks for him to meet Thundercracker's optics.

"I would really like it if you came back to Earth with me and Bumblebee," said Bluestreak. "We don't have a lot and we're living at the Autobot embassy, but it's home and I don't think I could live on Cybertron even if I wanted to. I don't know if you feel the same way or not, but I'd really like to spend some time getting to know you. Especially after everything that just happened and maybe we can get through all of this together."

Bumblebee cleared his vents, startling Bluestreak out of his ramblings. Thundercracker, however seemed to have deflated a bit, as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"I'd like that," the big seeker said softly.

The whine of engines broke through the peaceful silence. Bumblebee's comm buzzed and he was able to answer.

::Bumblebee here::

::Yo Bee, it's Jazz. Glad to hear from you finally. Do you know if it's stable for us to land?:: The cheerful tone in the commander's voice was startling after the things they had witnessed.

"It's Jazz," said Bumblebee to the other two mechs. "He wants to know if he can land."

"Here's just as good as anywhere else," said Thundercracker. Bumblebee stomped his foot on the ground and confirmed that the area was indeed secure enough for the small transport ship to land.

::You're clear to land sir:: said Bumblebee through his comm link.

::Roger that:: Bumblebee smiled at the Earth idiom.

The small transport ship touched down inside the husk of a collapsed building. Bumblebee and Bluestreak quickly made their way to their rescue team, while Thundercracker followed at a much slower pace still carrying Prowl's gray body. The ship's rear hatch popped open and a ramp descended into the rubble. Jazz and Smokescreen appeared at the top of the ramp.

"What kind of crazy adventure did y'all find yourselves in?" Jazz asked as he exited the ship. He looked between the two young Autobots, taking note of Bumblebee's slightly hunched in form and Bluestreak's doorwings twitching in distress.

Smokescreen walked up to Bluestreak and put a comforting hand on his shoulders. "You gave us quite a fright," said the older Praxian. Bluestreak's doorwings sagged and he turned back to look at the last mech to approach with Prowl's body cradled close.

"Frag," Jazz swore as barely a whisper as Smokescreen's doorwings rose high on his back.

"It's a long story," said Bluestreak and Smokescreen gave his shoulder a tight squeeze.

Jazz nodded his helm in understanding. "We can debrief when we get back to Iacon," he said, somber now that he saw the body of his long time friend. "Let's get you bots home."

They quickly boarded the ship and settled in for the return trip. Thundercracker laid Prowl out on one of the small benches and, with the help of Jazz, secured the body. Smokescreen gave Bluestreak's a gentle hug before he ducked into the flight cabin and took the pilot's seat. As they ascended into the air, Bluestreak stared out the window. Bumblebee watched him, gently stroking the odd crystal he had been given by his fellow minibots.

"Hey," said Bumblebee. "I'm here for you if you need to talk."

Bluestreak continued to stare out the window as the decimated Praxian landscape sank further and further away. After a few breems, he broke the silence and said to Bumblebee, "I'm here for you too."

It had taken many vorns before the slowly growing Cybertronian population was ready to rebuild the city of Praxus. The Vosians were quick to volunteer to clear the damaged neighborhoods closest to their city in the west, while several smaller teams from Iacon had started working in the east. The north was still considered too unstable, but that didn't stop curious younglings from exploring the off-limits area.

"Hurry up guys," said a lanky red and green youngling with a blue visor covering his optics.

"You're going too fast Kepler," whined a tiny yellow and silver youngling. His doorwings were just a little bit too large for his small frame and hindered his balance.

"I am not! You're just too slow, Buster," said Kepler with his servos on his hips. "Maybe you need to grow up more. Sparklings shouldn't wander away from their caretakers."

"Shut up Kep," snapped the third mechling. His purple seeker wings flapped in agitation. "Not all of us are meant to grow up to be giants that'll squish cities."

"I'm not going to squish cities! Take that back Ronin!"

"Hey guys," said Buster, but the other two younglings didn't hear him.

"Look at how big your peds are," snickered Ronin. "You're gonna squish everyone in your path."

"Am not!"

"Are too!

"Guys! Look what I found!"

The two fighting younglings looked to where their friend was pointing. A large gaping hole was at the bottom of a rubble pile. It looked like it led to a tunnel.

"I wonder where it goes," said Kepler.

"Maybe there're rust slugs down there," suggested Ronin pushing Kepler's shoulder.

"Eww," said Buster. His doorwings rising high.

"I dare you two scaredy bots to go down there," said Kepler.

"No way," said Buster. "I'm not going down there."

"Why are you a scardy bot?"

"No!" denied Buster.

Ronin rolled his optics and slid down the mountain of rubble. "Come on guys. I bet there's some awesome stuff down here."

Kepler smirked at Buster before following Ronin into the hole. Buster stomped his tiny peds before following his friends. They ended up sliding down into a large dark tunnel. Kepler, the only one of the three younglings with headlights, illuminated the area.

"Cool," he said. "It's like it goes on forever."

"Do you think it goes all the way to the center of Cybertron?" asked Buster.

"Nah," said Ronin. "Besides we'd probably find Primus first."

"You seriously believe those old sparkling tales?" asked Kepler, trying to keep his headlights as steady as possible.

They took a few cautious steps into the dark tunnel. Buster and Ronin keeping their wings flared to detect any falling objects.

"You know," said Buster in a low voice. "This place kinda reminds me of the stories my grand-caretakers used to tell me. You know, the ones with the evil priest?"

"Those are just sparkling tales," said Kepler boldly stepping a head of his friends. "They probably made them up, like the stories about the boggy-mech hiding under the berth."

Bang!

The three younglings whipped around at the loud sound. "What was that?" asked Buster grabbing onto Ronin.

"Something probably fell," said Kepler searching the area for the cause of the noise.

"I didn't pick anything up," said Buster meekly. He fanned out his tiny doorwings, but didn't pick up any movement.

"Well you're doorwings must be malfunctioning," said Kepler giving Buster a small shove.

"Stop being so mean," said Ronin getting between his two friends. "Besides my wings didn't pick anything up either."

Haha… A high-pitched giggle broke the tense silence.

"That's not funny Kep," said Ronin. His wings picked up a faint change in the air current.

"What are you on about Roe?" asked Kepler. "I wasn't laughing."

Heh, heh heh…

"Seriously, it's not funny," said Ronin. "You're scaring Buster." The tiniest youngling's digits were digging into the little seeker's arm.

"I just told you I wasn't laughing," said Kepler.

"If it wasn't you," said Buster. "And it wasn't us, then who was laughing?"

"Do you wanna play with me?"

All three younglings froze. The voice that spoke sounded weird, like someone speaking through a thick liquid. It echoed off the walls. And it definitely wasn't one of them.

They turned around as a single unit and came face to face with a small dark grey Praxian. The new youngling would have looked completely normal, if it wasn't for the fact that he didn't have optics.

"What is going on here? Who dares to trespass in my domain?"

The three living younglings whipped around to find another Praxian, this one a towering adult, had materialized out of nowhere. He too, would have been completely normal looking, except he was missing his helm.

Three screams pierced the air. "Let's get out of here," yelled Kepler pushing Ronin and Buster out of his way to escape. Ronin and Buster quickly followed their much larger friend up out of the hole and back to the surface. They ran the whole way back to their caretakers.

"Do you think they'll be back?" asked the younger of the two Praxians. With a gentle shift of the air, he returned to looking as he had in life, optics and all.

"It is very likely," said the older Praxian, his helm once again firmly attached to his neck. He held out a servo to the youngling. "Come Barricade, we must make sure the crystal chamber will not be found."

"Sure, thing Prowl," said the ghost of Barricade. "I just hope we can keep these new mechs safe."

Slowly their images faded until two glowing orbs were left in their place. The northern areas of Praxus wouldn't remain quiet for long. Perhaps the rumors of ghosts would help to keep curious mechs from wandering too far into the ruins of the old temple and the tunnels that lay beneath.

Deep within the confines of Cybertron, tucked away in a pocket dimension, an ancient being stirred in its cage. It was restless. It was weak. It wanted to unleash its chaos on an unsuspecting world. But Primus was gaining back strength and able to protect His children from his malevolent brother.

It didn't matter. Unicron was just as immortal as Primus. Time had very little meaning to the evil god and he could easily wait for the next opportunity.

I can wait…forever.

Once again thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this story. I had a lot of fun writing it.