Like I said last chapter, I'm very sorry for making ya'll wait for so long on a new update, and I really appreciate your patience. College stuff and school work is really starting to get in the way. But thanks to Spring Break, I was able to spend much more time working on this chapter.

Also like I said in the previous chapter, I want to thank WingedWolfAlari for helping me with this story. You helped me out so much, and I really appreciate that.

This chapter starts in Bumblebee's POV. I don't own Transformers.

Alright, enough chitchat, let's get on with the story. :)

I stood on top of our stone silo, with my servos clasped behind me, somberly looking up at the dark grey, overcast sky. The past two days have been... well, I don't think I have the right words to describe how it's been.

The Decepticons and we Autobots managed to take down Faultline's ship, but only by what the Vehicons called, and I have to agree with them all the way, a real miracle. Just as we led an all out assault on a crack Megatron managed to put in the ship's armor, another powerful bolt of lightning struck the ship, causing significant damage. A number of the powerful engines had begun to fail, and it quickly started to lose altitude, descending towards the trees below.

The ship fired off numerous small thrusters on the underbelly of the ship, leveling it and making it parallel with the ground. The main engine failure caused by the lightning strike must have triggered the ship's emergency stabilization system, a mechanism meant to keep the ship from crashing nose first into the ground, thus reducing death and serious injuries inflicted on passengers inside.

The ship dug a massive trench in the ground, and I distinctly remember hearing and seeing hundreds of birds squawking and taking off frantically into the night sky. The one of the engines erupted in flames as the ship impacted the ground, and even on the Jackhammer, I felt the tremor of the explosion. The emergency thrusters could only do so much, and bottom of the ship was torn open as it scraped along the ground, slowing to a stop after a few moments.

Touching down, the Vehicons went to work without Megatron even ordering them to. According to the Vehicons' ranks, they split off in different groups, some scouting the inside of the ship, while others guarded the gouged out underside of the ship and scanned the damage.

After Wheeljack had the Jackhammer hover near Faultline's ship, Bulkhead and I left to assist in any way that we could. Wheeljack said that he would stay in his ship for the purple femme's sake. Just being near Faultline's ship was making the femme very nervous.

One of the Vehicons raced up to Megatron, saying something that we couldn't quite hear to the Decepticon leader. At a distance, I watched Megatron's expression. His optics widened ever so slightly then he smiled, baring his teeth in anticipation.

The tall mech quickly came towards me and said that we Autobots needed to come with him and a group of Vehicons. That Vehicon had just informed him of the location of Soundwave's signal, as well as the location of an unknown bot.

We all had a good idea of who that unknown signal belonged to, and I had Wheeljack land briefly to allow us to board. After telling the Wrecker why we were back on so soon, I used a set of coordinates that Megatron sent me via transmission a few moments ago to guide Wheeljack to the designated location.

The Jackhammer made it to the location, with Megatron and a large group of Vehicons flying nearby, and we found Soundwave in the middle of a leaf littered clearing with Faultline.

We all, Autobot and Decepticon, surrounded the two of them in the clearing and armed ourselves, aiming everything at the mechs in the center. Faultline had to have sent us on a wild goose chase, since he was obviously there in the clearing and not in his ship, as we originally thought.

Soundwave had Faultline caught in his tentacles, lifted off the ground by his neck. Faultline looked terrified out of his mind. I instantly grew very concerned when I saw that Soundwave had shifted his servo into his sword. This could very well be warranted, seeing all the trouble this mech has caused, but I was worried that Soundwave would execute Faultline. If he did that, Faultline would never face justice, or live with what he did.

Thankfully, Soundwave didn't kill the mech he held hostage. The expression on his face told me that he truly wanted to, until a strange trance seemed to fall over him. Soundwave was wide-eyed and looked very far away for a few seconds before looking back down at the mech caught by his neck.

I distinctly remember his sapphire optics softening considerably as he whispered 'I forgive you' to the mech. Then he dropped the mech, and turned away. As soon as Faultline hit the ground, the Vehicons mobbed him.

Now, why Soundwave forgave Faultline, I don't know. I got the feeling that this was more about something that happened that didn't involve Optimus; something more personal. I was curious at first, wondering what else could make Soundwave, a usually calm and rarely violent mech, want to murder Faultline. I even considered asking, my curiosity getting the better of me.

Then I remembered that this event, whatever it was, must have had a massive impact on the silent mech to push him to this point, and I decided that it was better that I not know, for Soundwave's sake.

After Faultline was captured, he was immediately restrained and taken back to the Nemesis through a Ground Bridge sent by Soundwave. I contacted Ratchet to tell him the news, but his response led me to keep that information and tell him at a better time. I knew that his son's life was in his hands and that he seriously needed some encouragement as he helped Optimus. I could tell that he was questioning his ability to help his son, based on what happened to my voice. He needed know that Optimus has full faith in his abilities and that he doesn't need to worry about something that happened so long ago.

Wheeljack flew the Jackhammer back to the base on my orders, so that he could get the purple femme to a place that made her feel safer. Bulkhead and I stayed behind, Ground Bridging back to the Nemesis with the Decepticons, with the intent to go back to Ratchet and see how he was doing with Optimus.

While we were heading towards the medbay on the Nemesis, we saw Breakdown march a heavily restrained Starscream off to what we assumed was a cell, surrounded by a crowd of angry Vehicons of all classes. Someone had to have sent for them at some point while we were out in the field.

Bulkhead and I slowed our pace and stared, watching them from down the hallway. The Vehicons shoved the grey Seeker, attempting to hit him whenever they could. They shouted nasty things at the mech, furious over what Starscream plotted. I had never seen so many Vehicons so angry before, and I had never seen them attempt to attack someone that was one of their own, let alone an officer. It was getting to the point where Breakdown had started to become a bodyguard for Starscream, threatening the Vehicons that moved to strike the grey Seeker and shoving away mechs that got too close.

Starscream didn't resist much from the beating he was getting from the Vehicons, as he was still badly injured from the aerial beating he got from Ratchet earlier when he tried to flee. However, there was no mistaking the angry, defeated look on his face.

I knew right from the get-go that Starscream was going to have a very rough time being a prisoner on board the warship. He most likely will need guards posted at his cell to keep the crew of the warship from trying to hurt, or worse, kill him.

I also knew that his punishment is not going to be a light one.

...The next time Bulkhead and I saw Soundwave was in the medbay with Knockout, Rudder, Arcee, Ratchet and Optimus. He must have come straight there after getting back on the Nemesis. I noticed immediately that I could still see his bright, sapphire-blue optics and scarred face. Soundwave had not yet replaced his mask, though he held it in his servo. It was still covered in dirt from the forest we just left. I guessed that it wasn't important to him at the moment.

They all were gathering up supplies and equipment to transport Optimus and Arcee back to the Autobot base. Ratchet felt more comfortable with Arcee and the sparkling being cared for back at the base, a feeling that I completely agreed with. Bulkhead carried the equipment while the injured were carefully transported back home through a Ground Bridge. Ratchet carefully carried his son and I carried Arcee. Soundwave assured me privately via transmission that he would destroy the coordinates of our base immediately after I entered them into the Ground Bridge locating system. His tone made me feel like he was protecting a secret we both knew, but I brushed the feeling off. I didn't have anything to support it.

For the sake of safety and peace of mind, I didn't allow for any Decepticons to follow us through the Ground Bridge. They didn't seem to care much about that decision. They were only concerned with how Optimus was doing.

While she was on the warship, Rudder gave Arcee the medical attention she immediately needed. Because of the exceptional work the elderly mech did, she's now able to stay and rest in her room with frequent checkups. Optimus was not so lucky.

The tiny sparkling remains in intensive care in Ratchet's medbay, attached to numerous monitors and the life support. Since bringing Optimus back from the Nemesis, his vitals have been almost constantly fluctuating, typically staying in or near the danger zone. Ratchet is doing everything that he can to help his son, hardly ever leaving his side, but nothing he's doing seems to be working. The life support seems to be the only thing holding Optimus here with us.

It was strange, because it looked like he was only sleeping. If I knew nothing of this situation, I would think just that. His armor looked better than new, and was repainted with the now familiar white and gold (courtesy of Knockout). There was a peaceful expression on Optimus's little face. It would have been a pleasant sight if it weren't for the monitors attached to the sparkling's body and the life support mask.

Ms. Darby had been kind enough to take Optimus's stuffed tiger and hand wash it at her home the day after he was brought back to the Autobot base. Now the tear stains were gone and the sparkling's stuffed animal looked like new as it lay next to Optimus's still form. The tiger seemed to sleep alongside him.

The Decepticons supported where they could, providing equipment, tools and energon by airdropping and Ground Bridging it to designated locations for us to pick the things up, sending whatever they thought would help with the recovery of the sparkling. Even with the help, which is very much appreciated, the only thing that we all can do at this point was wait, worry, and hope for the best.

...I looked up at the sky, and saw that it had grown much darker while I contemplated recent events. After catching the distinct scent of incoming rain on the wind, I decided that it was best that I go back inside the base.

...Soundwave's POV: Datapad Journal Entry #46...

...It has been what seems to be a long time since I have returned to this journal. But I must return to it nonetheless.

The event I have experienced is one with an everlasting effect, and I doubt that the memory will ever fade. It was what kept me from executing Faultline for what he did to my child. I could recall every detail as if it happened a moment before, and it pained me to do so. But I must, in honor of my friend, sparkmate and sparkling, all of whom are in a better place, and for the words spoken to me.

I stood in shock as I stared at the femme standing before me. For a moment, I was fearful to move, my mind still. The experience seemed far too good to be true. To see her after what felt like an eternity... It simply couldn't be real.

Then she smiled, making my spark lurch. "I see you kept your blue optics, Kitten."

At the sound of my nickname, I could no longer resist my emotions. My optics stung as I rushed to wrap her in an embrace. After so long, after losing so much, I had my beloved sparkmate again.

She leaned back slightly at the strength of my embrace in a surprised manner. Then she chuckled softly, returning the show of affection, wrapping her arms around my waist and resting her head against my chest as I leaned into her. All the while, I fought to keep from sobbing. I squeezed my optics shut, putting forth an enormous amount of effort to keep from weeping.

I had never overcome the death of my sparkmate. For so many years, I was unable to move on and have been grieving her death. A common disease took her from our son and I, and I truly believed that I would not see her again. Not until I passed.

And by a true miracle, I had the opportunity to hold her close to me, hear her gentle voice, listen to her spark beat.

"I missed you too, Kitten," I heard her whisper, her familiar, light-hearted smile evident in her voice.

We stood there together in the center of the front room, and even with the city-state of Tagan Heights quietly moving past, everything seemed still. Halli was back in my arms, her helm resting on my chest, after an eternity... In my joy, I found it difficult to release her. I feared that if I let go of her, she would disappear and I would never see her again. Though it was an illogical thought, it was a consequence that I dreaded wholeheartedly. Perhaps this time, it would be true. But despite that lingering fear, I forced myself to loosen my hold on her.

"You know..." Halli said as her soft blue optics met mine, holding my servo with her smaller ones. I urged her to continue, eager to hear what she had to say, and I watched a saddened expression flicker over her face. Instantly, concern grew in my spark.

"You were really scaring me down there." At first I did not understand what she was talking about. I couldn't fathom what I could have been doing that was frightening my precious sparkmate. Never would I ever do such a thing on purpose.

My expression shifted to confused and Halli looked away from me, down at my servo, the one she was holding. She gingerly stroked the back of my servo as she said, "That mech you were terrorizing..."

Before she trailed off, I knew exactly what she was speaking of. Halli was referring to the demon that I chased in the woods. The demon that I proudly forced to experience fear. The demon that I had caught in my tentacles by the neck with a sword pressed against his spark in the center of the leaf littered clearing.

Even in the presence of my dearly beloved sparkmate, I couldn't hide the black hatred laced in my tone as I spoke of that mech. Venom tainted my voice as I spoke of that demon. "Yes, that demon is Faultline. He was the one who-"

Before I could finish, she moved her hand to rest on my forearm and made optic contact with me, her gaze filled with that familiar intensity. "I know. I saw."

Initially, I was relieved that she knew what he did, but soon uncertainty began to leak into my thoughts. If she knew what happened to our son, how could she have been frightened by the things that I had done to the mech responsible? He has done far worse things, and the murder of my baby, Wingspar, is but one of many horrible deeds. Surely she would have been glad of what I was doing to him, especially since she knew what he did to our sparkling.

But she wasn't. What I was doing was scaring her. The very thought of scaring my sparkmate, the femme I swore to protect and love, the mother of my child, brought a nauseated and dreadful feeling over me.

"Halli... you know what happened. How did my actions frighten you?" I asked her, looking down at the small femme.

"It wasn't what you did. I understand why you did what you did, but that wasn't it. It was you."

That sickening feeling swelled in my fuel tank and rose up into my throat, making it slightly more difficult to speak. "What about me frightened you, Halli?"

"You've become such a vengeful person. You held on so tightly to revenge for so many vorns, and once you got the chance to exact it, you completely changed," she said quietly, a sorrowful look on her face. "You weren't the gentle, loving mech I remember."

For a few moments, I didn't have a response to give. I recognize that I became fixated on exacting my revenge on him for what he did, but I wanted him to feel the pain that he put me through for so long after losing my son. I was so far in the dark that didn't see how obsessed I was with that revenge, and Halli brought that to light for me.

"Kitten, you have every reason to be angry with him. The death of our son has terribly hurt and damaged you then and still damages you now. I understand. But you have to let that need for vengeance go. You have to forgive him."

At that, I pulled my hand away from hers, shocked at the very suggestion of it. I could not understand how she could ask me such a thing. Our son was brutally murdered by this mech, shot to death, and she asked me to forgive him. How could I even consider giving him that? After what he did to our precious little one?

"Halli, he took our son from me! He doesn't deserve it."

"No, maybe he doesn't," she said quietly. "But you do."

I remained quiet, having no response as my sparkmate continued. "I couldn't help but see that Faultline held so much power over you for so long, changing who you are and making you vengeful and bitter. He had you in his clutches for so long, and you don't need that."

There was silence between us as I waited, knowing from the look on my sparkmate's face that she had something more to say.

Halli took my servo again and gazed at me, blue optics glinting. "Kitten, it's saying that the person who did you wrong doesn't have power over you anymore."

"He hasn't had any amount of power over me, Halli. I would never let such a monster do something like that to me," I said, attempting to reassure her. The attempt failed, and my sparkmate only furrowed her optic ridges and shook her helm.

"From the moment you found Wingspar and Clearout, you focused on avenging them. You left home and chased after this mech for more years than I can bear to count. You dedicated so much of your life to hunting this mech down, instead of trying to recover. You gave him control over you."

Then, I realized that, even though it was difficult to absorb, she was correct. I used so much of my time trying to find the mech who killed them, sitting in my own hate and grief for so long, and I have never been able to move on. Even though this happened many vorns ago, and I have come far from a mere factory worker, I have been standing in one place.

I stood there in the doorway for vorns, looking at my son dead in my home, sitting in the lap of Clearout's corpse. I still felt the same emotions that I felt when I saw his dark optics. That same hatred and anguish was still there in my spark, and I held onto it tightly, letting it change me without my realizing it.

I understood then how I gave him power over me. So much of me was centered on something that demon did to me, and I know that he has moved on from that day, perhaps the moment after he did it. That was made clear when I confronted him in the clearing outside of his ship, and he didn't recognize me until I removed my mask.

Perhaps revenge was not what I needed, contrary to what I wanted for all those vorns. Perhaps I did need to forgive him... But a single thought held me back.

"Even if I do forgive him, my son will still be gone. You and Clearout will still be gone. I won't have my family." At that statement, Halli smiled gently and shook her head.

"Wingspar was never gone. None of us were," Halli said quietly before looking off to the side. I followed her gaze, curious as to why she had suddenly looked in that direction. At the sight I saw, I fought vigorously within myself to hold back the tears.

There was Clearout standing in the doorframe of the room I found them in, cradling my little Wingspar in her arms as he chewed on his digits.

"We were always here. You just haven't been able to see us," Halli said as she looked back up at me, holding my servo. Clearout nodded in agreement, coming to stand next to Halli.

At this point, I no longer fought the emotions welling up inside of me as Wingspar reached out, perking his underdeveloped wings and grinning innocently from Clearout's arms. Tears silently streaked down my face as I took my little sparkling into my arms and wrapped him in a warm embrace.

I had never thought that this would come without my passing to the AllSpark. But regardless of the circumstances, I was elated that I was able to hold my son again as though he had never died. He was just as exuberant now as he was in life.

Just as Wingspar reached up to wipe my tears away with his little hands, I heard Clearout speak. "Soundwave, forgiveness is not for the other person. It's for you. That is the first step in healing."

"Don't stay hurt, Sire! Ya gotta git better!" Wingspar said cheerfully to me as he pumped his little fist in the air as a show of strength. Even though my son spoke to me in a child's language, what his words meant told me that he understood what Clearout meant by what she said. All I could do was smile sweetly back as I responded to Wingspar.

"Alright, I'll get better for you." My son's smile grew even brighter than before as I held him close, and the sight warmed my spark. I decided that I needed to shift my focus away from the pain and the wound that had never healed.

"And you said that you wouldn't have us together as a family," Halli said, looking at my son cradled in my arms and back up at me. She gave me a small smile and pressed a servo over my spark. "That may be true. We won't be there in the physical sense, but we will always be there for you, in spirit."

Clearout started where Halli ended, speaking in her low, carefully considered voice. "Even though you believe you don't have a family down there, you do have family. We see that the most important people in your family to you are the sparkling and his adoptive father. You three have become very close."

"You were there for us. Now you can be there for them," Halli said, her optics gently glittering as she smiled.

Clearout then said from next to my sparkmate that though no one wished it to end, our time together was limited, and that we must soon part ways. Instead of feeling the stab of sadness and grief that I expected, I felt myself smile and silently agree. We were to depart; my time to join my deceased family had not come, and I had accepted that.

I knew what I was to do upon leaving my old home and traveling back to the world of the living. I was to forgive those who harmed me and support those who may need me in their lives. I was to be there for my family.

The last I felt and heard in the reunion was my sparkling giving me a warm hug and whispering in my audio receptor, "I love you."

"I love you too, Wingspar," I whispered back, and my pleasant Tagan Heights home faded away, my family along with it.

This moment marked the first step in healing. Just as I promised Halli I would never change the color of my optics, I promised that I would forgive the mech that caused me pain over the vorns and take the first step in moving on.

It will not be a simple task. Breaking free of a cycle of hate, pain and vengeance that has endured since before the Great War will be incredibly difficult for me, and the process could very well be a long one. But I am certain that it will be well worth it in the end once that process is complete.

In that reunion, I had wished for death more than I ever had. Just so that I could remain there with my family.

But no. That was not what I needed.

It will be worth it to be in the lives of those in my living family, and to continue on in my life. It will be worth it to gain the ability to finally be able to look away from my son's corpse and towards the light of a more pleasant future. It will be worth it to be happy again.

...

After all of what was said in my reunion with the spirits of my family, I have begun to wonder.

Even though I forgave him, what sort of mech am I to side with the same cause as the killer of my child?

~Soundwave

...Rudder's POV: Two Days Later...

The young leader of the Autobots contacted me earlier today and told me of the suckling's condition. His status was causing great concern for not only the child's father, who I heard is doing everything that he can for his son, but the other Autobots as well. Nothing that has been done seemed to aid in the recovery of the little suckling, in breaking the suckling out of his slumber, and the Autobot leader reached out to me for help. I could tell from the young mech's tone that he was internally questioning the results of the surgery that took place solar cycles ago on the suckling.

It struck and disturbed me that Ratchet's optics still blazed a dangerous red.

Here in the Autobot base, I offered what medical assistance I could, utilizing the equipment sent by my fellow Decepticons to the best of my ability. Soon after I made my recommendations and the child's father put them into action, the child's vitals started to show signs of recovery. He was gaining enough strength to possibly emerge from this stasis.

Immediately, the child's father grew very excited and hopeful, calling the other Autobots to his medical bay, as well as an adult female human named Ms. Darby that was visiting out of concern. All of them were in attendance except for the Autobot femme, who is resting in her personal quarters, and the purple femme. Now they were surrounding the suckling's medical berth, watching the child intensely, waiting to see his optics open again.

I briefly stood alone, making way for the others in the room, wringing my servos. A worried feeling came to me as I watched Ratchet administer a very small dose of stimulant into the suckling's frame using a syringe. His intention was to assist the suckling's frame in the process of emerging from stasis.

The only thing that could be heard was the sound of the suckling's spark monitor and my quiet pedesteps towards the medical berth that the others surrounded. Bumblebee shifted to the side, allowing me to stand between him and the green Wrecker.

Standing on the other side of the berth was Ratchet, and I could tell from his demeanor that this waiting was becoming unbearable for him. He attempted to hold a composed, hopeful expression and succeeded for the most part. Had it not been for my seeing that very same look on a mech long ago as he stood over his dying sparkmate, I wouldn't have been able to decipher how Ratchet felt at this moment. The tension was understandably becoming too great for him to bear.

We watched the suckling's peaceful faceplates, waiting for any movement, and I could feel my optics flicker more than usual in my uneasiness. Ever since the suckling was Ground Bridged back to the Autobot base, I have been very worried for him. My mind would not stop wandering back to a single thought that I had after Ratchet completed the suckling's surgery on the Nemesis. It was a thought that, as a doctor, is unavoidable. But because I am also a father of three, it was a thought that I'd much rather not consider. For solar cycles, I have been intensely worried about a possible, terrible aftereffect of the trauma the suckling endured...

Suddenly, the little sparkbeat on the monitor skipped, and everyone immediately leaned a bit forward, tense with anticipation. Then the Autobots around me rejoiced.

The child had opened his optics.

My spark sunk as the green Wrecker embraced his white friend, much to his chagrin, and Bumblebee's optics blazed in happiness. The human loosed a sigh of relief and smiled gently. Ratchet seemed to be unable to stop smiling as he gazed down at his son, his still blood-red optics softening significantly. Such a look would have been sparkwarming if it weren't for that lingering thought in my mind.

It was the moment Ratchet had been awaiting for solar cycles, and it was the moment that I had quickly begun to fear.

Bumblebee lifted a servo to quiet the room as Ratchet reached over and gently brushed the suckling's tiny servo with a single digit.

"Optimus?" Ratchet called softly, no doubt hoping to hear his child call for him in response. The smile on Ratchet's face faded as his child continued to stare at the ceiling above him with a blank expression.

The child's father moved to gently shake his son, and called for him again, this time with more urgency. The human looked around at us nervously, the Wreckers exchanged worried expressions and Bumblebee watched Ratchet and the suckling, a concerned and serious glow in his optics.

Ratchet's shaking grew more frantic, calling for his son in a louder voice than before. His tone begged his son to move, to smile, to make a sound, to let him know in some way that his son acknowledged his father. In my long and many vorns of being a doctor, few sights are harder to bear than those like this.

I felt a servo touch my shoulder, catching my attention. I looked to the left and saw the expression on Bumblebee's face as he pulled his servo back from my shoulder. The sensation I received from his expression told me that he suspected I had an idea of what was happening with the suckling.

And he was correct.

I glanced at the medical monitors at the helm of the suckling's berth, examining his vitals, sadly confirming the lingering thought that had plagued me for the past few solar cycles.

"Ratchet," I said quietly, causing the seeker medic to look up from his son. His red optics were glowing brightly, and bore an almost wild expression. The others in the room focused their attention on me as well.

I cycled air through my systems, bracing myself for what I planned to say. Wringing my servos, I spoke in a voice lower than normal. "Your child appears to be permanently locked in stasis."

The silence in the room suddenly grew incredibly heavy as I maintained optic contact with the child's father. Delivering the news itself to him was not difficult for me, as I have told people worse things in my long career as a doctor, but the resulting expression on Ratchet's face still struck a chord in my spark. All I could do was watch as he repeatedly shook his helm, blood-red optics flaring in anger, attempting to deny what I said and saying that I had to be wrong.

He looked as though he wished to murder me. But he remained where he was, across the medical berth from me, choosing not to shoot the messenger.

I withheld the professional apologies, well aware that it would not have aided the situation in the least bit.

All the while, Bumblebee's doorwings dropped and the Wreckers looked down, attempting to hide their expressions of sorrow.

Once a bot is locked into stasis like this, there is nothing that can be done. Their frame may be responsive to stimulations such as pain, but the CPU wave activity ceases.

The trauma to the suckling's frame could very well have been far too great for him to bear. The surgery held on the Nemesis saved his body, but the suckling's mind could have been lost at the same time. A fate like this is, in some ways, worse than total death. The body is left a living shell, and the family is left behind to care for a loved one that is no longer there.

"Rudder, is that something like brain-death in humans?" I looked up towards the human female on the balcony at the sound of my name and nodded. Bumblebee looked up as well, with an optic ridge arched, undoubtedly wondering how her inquiry was relevant to the situation. I was pondering that myself.

Soon all attention was focused on the human as she spoke again.

"Maybe he isn't completely lost like you said." The sparkling's father turned to look up at the human female, the expression on her face encouraging her to continue. The mech desired some flicker of hope for his child, even if it was but a small one.

"There was once a human study done on youth imprinting. The results showed that a youth tends to respond more successfully with stimulation from the mother, not the father." There was a short silence in the room. The Wreckers and Bumblebee shared a look, while Ratchet continued to stare at the human female, his wings shifting ever so slightly.

The human female moved on to support her proposed theory. "I'll give you all a specific case of this: rabies patient Jeanna Giese was cured of the disease by having her brain completely shut down to allow her body to exterminate the disease. Afterwards, a test was performed to figure out the full effects of shutting her brain down. The doctors had both of her parents look over her. Now, she didn't respond to her father's face, but after seeing her mother's face, she turned her head towards her mother and her gaze focused on her. Even after having her brain shut down, she wasn't brain dead."

Ratchet looked clearly hopeful at the thought of his son still being mentally alive; as did the others in the room. I shared only a small portion of that hope. The statement of a child imprinting on an adult bot is a very true one. Cybertronian sparklings establish a unique and strong bond with the first two bots they come in contact with in their first moments of life. The strongest bond a sparkling can ever have with another bot is said to be the one formed with the carrier, or the bot the child subconsciously considered to be their carrier. In fact, I distinctly remember Cybertron's scientific community being highly fascinated with cases of sparklings forming strong carrier bonds with bots that were not biologically related to them, as well as conducting and analyzing numerous studies around the topic.

As for the comparison between permanent stasis lock and human brain death... From what I know of human biology, the complete shutdown of the brain almost always spells disaster for the human. If the human does come out alive, it is likely that there will be permanent damage, making brain death much worse than permanent stasis lock by comparison. As for Cybertronians, our biology is far more effective in preserving the mind during stasis lock. Even after say millions of Earth years spent inside of stasis lock, a bot can emerge, given the right stimulation, with no damage to the mind.

But there was one fatal flaw the human's theory, and Bumblebee was the one to voice it.

"Ms. Darby, it's more than wonderful that there's hope for Optimus, but how can we apply that sort of stimulation? Optimus doesn't have a mother figure. He only has his father, Ratchet," Bumblebee said, gesturing towards the child's father. Ratchet's blood red optics glinted as he briefly glanced at his young leader.

Before she could respond to him, we all heard a small noise coming from the far wall, the threshold to the hallway. Everyone in the room turned and the sight made my spark sink. It was not an unfamiliar sight, having previously worked with victims of violent crimes, but it never failed to pull at my core.

It was the blue femme, Arcee, coming into the room with one arm wrapped around her midsection. There was a clear limp in her gait.

The rest of us watched as Bumblebee and the green Wrecker objected to Arcee coming here rather than resting. I would have objected as well had I not known why she was here.

The two young mechs stood on each side of her, attempting to persuade and guide her back to her room. She merely attempted to push them away. Seeing where she wanted to go, the two mechs move out of her way and watched her continue further in the room, towards the medical berth.

Confirming what I already knew, she had come to see the suckling.

Arcee came to stand next to the suckling's berth, across from Ratchet, gripping the edge for support. She stared down at the child's still form, her optics soft. Bumblebee sent me a transmission as he moved to stand beside her. He asked me in the message if there is the possibility that Arcee could pose as the suckling's mother figure. I responded, saying that even though she may consider herself to take a different role in the suckling's life, she could be his carrier figure. I then asked who the first to bond with the child was, and Bumblebee told me that it was the blue femme. I internally nodded, having had my answer to the young Autobot leader confirmed.

The young leader stood beside Arcee, ready to assist her if need be, as she gripped the edge of the berth and looked down at the suckling, attempting to make optic contact with him. The only thing the rest of us in the room could do was follow her gaze and look into the suckling's blank and staring optics. The only thing we could do was hope that the human's theory was correct in this case, that he would respond to Arcee.

We stared intently, then for the second time the Autobots around me loudly rejoiced.

The suckling had steadily turned his helm and looked up at Arcee, focusing on her.

I felt the desire to smile as this, and there truly was a reason to do so. After an agonizingly long wait, the little child is responding to visual stimulation. The child's father was fighting back the tears as he stroked his son's little helm gently with a single digit. But I did not smile as I gazed at the suckling's spark monitor. Even though he was not permanently locked into stasis and was indeed responding to outside forces, the little suckling's spark beats weakly.

I do not believe that he will remain alive much longer. Not without a stronger spark.

My own spark heavy, I patiently waited while the green Wrecker guided the blue femme back to her quarters. Once they were further down the corridor, I spoke up once again, drawing attention to me. After voicing my concerns, I watched the stress and fear hidden by anger flood back into Ratchet. It was not something that I wished to tell him, or any of the Autobots, like my previous suspicions regarding the little suckling's condition. However, I do have a solution for this predicament.

"The solution I have for this predicament is a spark power siphoning operation," I said after their young leader urged me to share my thoughts on how to assist Optimus. Ratchet's optics widened slightly at the thought of such an operation, and his expression grew very grave. Being a very well trained and experienced doctor, he knows exactly what my suggestion meant. I received little reaction from the other people in the medical bay. Bumblebee and the white Wrecker both asked me to elaborate.

"Spark power siphoning is, to put it very simply, transferring power from one spark to another." Before I could speak more of the operation, Ratchet volunteered his spark. It was a noble act and no surprise to anyone in the room. Because of his knowledge in the medical field, Ratchet was well aware of the massive risk in the operation, but as a father, he was willing to partake in any attempt if it meant saving his son.

I continued detailing my suggestion, despite the white Wrecker's desire to rush into the operation. This procedure must be constantly monitored as the two sparks are connected to avoid overriding the weaker spark. I told them that allowing too much power to flow into the weaker spark will put too much stress on its circuitry and will extinguish it. Also the bot monitoring the procedure can only control so much of the energy flow. The fact that the procedure is not in the complete control of the bot performing it is a high risk that must be considered.

The operation is also dangerous for the stronger spark donating power. If too much is siphoned out at too great a speed, the bot's spark will destabilize, unable to handle the imbalance. Even if the donor spark is a particularly strong one, the destabilization stage is the last before the inevitable permanent shutdown. Another notable risk is spark compatibility. If the two sparks are not compatible with one another, they will attempt to purge the connected spark and construct firewalls to block out the spark. This rejection process can permanently damage both sparks as they simultaneously attempt to sever the connection made in the power transfer. This was the very reason why such operations were avoided, even under the worst, most pressing of situations.

Even with the exceptional technology we possessed back in the hospitals on Cybertron, I can only account for two cases of many in my lengthy career as a medical professional where a spark power siphoning procedure was successful. After the connection between the two sparks was severed, the patients constantly spoke of sensing a presence that was not their own in their sparks. There was no investigation to see how true these claims were, as many scientists found them to be invalid, but I had my own opinions...

I kept the information regarding a withstanding connection between sparks to myself. There was not enough information to prove these statements, and there was no need to possibly frighten these bots anymore than I already have.

Bumblebee glanced down at the little suckling, who was looking up at his father, and said, "You said that sort of operation is only for the worst case scenario, but I think this qualifies. Do you know how to do it?"

"I do know how, but I am not willing to." As I expected, the reaction I received from the Autobots and the human was one of anger and shock. Ratchet snarled and flared his wings as the white Wrecker narrowed his optics.

"You'd better have a real good reason for this." I maintained my composure as I regarded them.

"Such an operation is extremely delicate, as it deals with the vital circuitry that moves power from the spark to the rest of the frame. Though I trust my knowledge on how to perform it, I do not trust my optics." As if to emphasize my point, my sickly yellow optics flickered painfully. My optics are too damaged by a long past disease to be relied upon, especially in such delicate circumstances. One simple mistake due to my poor vision could mean the end of both bots.

Bumblebee nodded, understanding. "Well, if you can't see well enough, maybe you can guide another bot through. Who do you suggest?"

Were it not for this grim situation, I may have smiled at his question.

...

"You're in for another world of pain if you even think about hurting either of them," the green Wrecker growled as he transformed his servo into a battle mace, having returned from the hallway not long ago. He along with the white Wrecker watched Knockout nervously prepare Ratchet's medical bay for the incoming operation.

Earlier, I sent a transmission to Soundwave, explaining the situation at hand and my possible solution. He fully supported my decision, and said that he would relay our plan to Lord Megatron. From what Soundwave told me, our lord had absolutely no problem with sending Knockout here to perform the operation. Lord Megatron commanded Knockout to immediately take what or whoever he felt he would need, and threatened to impale him with his own energon prod, along with many other horrible, torturous things, should he fail.

I told Soundwave everything that was needed for the operation, and he informed Knockout. The red mech gathered everything I listed, and used a Ground Bridge to go to a location on Earth. Once the Autobots detected his signal, they sent for him.

I was not surprised to see Soundwave walking alongside Knockout into the Autobot base. When Knockout was questioned by Bumblebee in regards to Soundwave's presence, he nervously said that he wanted the silent mech there for moral support. Even though Knockout did not know Soundwave well, it was an understandable choice. Given the correct situation, the silent mech's presence can be reassuring.

...The young Autobot leader had the human leave the base for safety measures before Knockout and Soundwave arrived. With three Decepticons in their base, I can understand why he was concerned for her wellbeing.

Now, I stood to the side as Knockout moved quickly around the room, walking between the two medical berths in the room. Ratchet occupied one while the little suckling lay prone on the other. Bumblebee and his Wreckers stood out of the way, watching Knockout and Soundwave. There was no doubt that they did not like the Decepticon medic and second-in-command in their base, much less working on their beloved comrades. But Bumblebee understood that they were only here to assist in saving the little suckling's life and made sure that the Wreckers knew this. That did not stop them from threatening Knockout with pain, death and brutal dismemberment.

Knockout moved to stand in front of a Decepticon medical monitor and adjusted the operation settings for the occasion. Soundwave stood behind him off to the right, holding a long cable resembling a cortical psychic patch that bifurcated halfway down. Both ends on cable split off into many smaller tendrils. Those tendrils will be used to connect to each spark, and the other end will connect to the monitor so that Knockout can control the power flow.

The red mech prepared to activate stasis and took the cable from Soundwave to connect one end to his monitor. While he worked, he glanced up several times at the Autobots watching him closely. I was certain that their presence was beginning to unnerve Knockout. Even in his uneasy state, he was able to maintain his decidedly snarky tone as he addressed the Autobots.

"This is an operating theater, not a movie theater!" At that the green Wrecker stepped towards him, taking his words as a challenge. The Wrecker glowered at him, fist clenched, and Knockout immediately stepped back. Before a confrontation could start, Bumblebee came between them.

"Maybe he's right. Bulkhead, Wheeljack, you two should leave for a while. He might work better without so many of us watching him." The Wreckers looked like they wanted to protest, but they decided to reluctantly follow their leader's order.

"If we think something's up, you better believe we're comin' right back here," the white Wrecker said before following his green friend down the hallway, leaving his leader in the room. He spoke to Bumblebee, but I sensed a threat directed towards Knockout in his tone. I stared after them, my optics flickering slightly. They are concerned about the lives of their comrades, as well as the security of their base. They don't need to be concerned. The only thing we Decepticons here are interested in is saving this child's life.

I turned back and moved to stand next to Knockout, prepared to guide him though the next steps of the operation. Soundwave looked down at the little suckling as he stood near the medical berth, light glinting off his mask as he held a few of Knockout's tools. Even with his face covered, I knew that he was disturbed and saddened by the little suckling's condition. He certainly was not alone in this feeling.

Bumblebee stood next to Ratchet's medical berth, talking the child's father. "You don't want to go through with this if you think it's too risky."

Ratchet glared up at him at the very suggestion of turning back. "If we don't take that risk, Optimus's spark will become too weak to sustain him!"

And unfortunately, he was correct.

The dishearteningly low success rate of this procedure concerns me greatly, but now I must put that aside. This was a risk very much worth taking.

…Ratchet's POV: A Few Moments Later…

Bulkhead and Wheeljack were told to leave the medical bay, and I was quite surprised that they left. With three Decepticons in the base, it was strange for them not to refuse, especially Wheeljack.

But, I suppose orders are orders, and they were going to follow them.

Just a moment ago, while I lie on a medical berth next to my son's, Bumblebee told me that I had the option of backing out if I so choose. I couldn't even scoff at such a ridiculous notion! What other option did I have? If this operation was not done soon, Optimus was almost guaranteed to die. And the death of my son is not an option.

I nearly snarled at Bumblebee, even as I attempted to control my anger towards the very thought of not following through with a procedure that could save my son. In any other situation, I would have been apologetic after a display like that, but now, I did not care. The only thing I cared about was being able to help my son live.

Rudder is going to guide Knockout through the procedure, something I am perfectly fine with. The old mech had far more than enough experience in the medical field to be trusted assisting someone else.

"I'm going to put both of you into stasis before I connect the cables to your sparks," Knockout said after momentarily consulting Rudder. It was standard procedure for any operation, even for one as unusual as the one I am about to partake in.

Realizing that the operation was that much closer, I slowly started to doubt myself, at the same time recalling what Rudder had said about the operation and what I already know. If too much power flowed into Optimus from me, his spark will extinguish. I couldn't help but recognize the stab of fear I felt. If that happened, it would have been my spark responsible for snuffing my son's. Living with the knowledge that I killed my son… I would not be able to bear it.

Death would be far better than living with that.

Then I heard a little voice whisper beside me, immediately pulling me out of my thoughts. I looked to my left to find my son looking over at me with heavy eyes, as though he was not fully conscious.

He called for me. He called for his daddy.

Optimus said nothing else as he gave me a little smile from underneath the mask over his mouth and reached out towards me. In this state, I seriously doubted that he was able to understand much of what was happening around him. I found it very difficult to hold back the tears as I reached out in return, touching my finger against his tiny palm. My son clutched my digit and continued to smile at me.

I will be there for my son, no matter the risk.

"Okay, I'm initiating stasis in three..." I heard Knockout say. I glanced around the room, looking at each of the bots standing in the medical bay and bracing myself for stasis. I looked at Soundwave, who looked back at me and nodded once reassuringly as he stood a bit behind Knockout. I could tell that he had confidence in Rudder's guidance, and seemed to wish for me to share that confidence.

"Two..." I turned my helm and looked up at Bumblebee, and he met my eyes in return. He maintained a serious expression, but I saw his optics soften considerably as his doorwings remained very still.

I looked over at Rudder, who didn't notice my looking. I wasn't surprised in the least, given that he can't see very well.

"...One." I shut my optics and all there was to see was darkness.

...

...Drifting...

I felt like I was drifting.

Like I was moving at the speed of light and staying in the same place at the same time. Like I was leaving someplace I had been all my life, and going to someplace new. And as I floated, I felt like I was being guided to where I was needed.

...Drifting...

...

The place I suddenly found myself in was like nothing I had ever experienced in my life, and probably never will again.

Dazed, I found myself lying on my back in soft grass, staring up at a thick, high covering of leaves. My mind seemed to be fuzzy as I brought my servos up to my face to rub at the scar over my eye and sat up. It was difficult to form coherent thoughts as I moved my hand back to the ground I rested on to assist in staying upright. I vaguely questioned why there was grass in this place...

I brought my left hand up to my face, attempting to focus on it. My vision started to clear, and I saw that my hand was the same as I remember, surprisingly. For whatever reason, I expected myself to look different. I certainly felt a bit different.

I slowly pushed off the ground and stood, widening my stance and digging my pedes into the ground to make sure that I wouldn't fall. Narrowing my optics, I looked around. As expected, I had no idea where I was. Nothing appeared to be familiar.

Before I moved to get a better look at the area, I ran a thorough diagnostic on my internal systems, and found out in a matter of nanokliks that there was nothing wrong. I could still feel my wings, and I lifted them from over the thrusters on my back to sense them move. I fired off the engines on my back, not enough to launch me off the ground, but enough for me to know that they were functioning properly.

And to further support my earlier conclusion that I indeed retained the same appearance, I saw the shadow cast over my optics from my cockpit hood.

I folded my wings and looked at the area around me. Despite the grass I found myself lying on, this place looked much like Cybertronian countryside. At the same time, I knew I was standing in a tree forest, a feature that Cybertron didn't have.

After glancing around for a moment in the shadows of the trees, I found a break in the forest. Immediately I headed towards it. Perhaps there I can get a better view of my surroundings.

The trees that I passed by looked odd, but I didn't stay long enough to study the plant closely.

Before long, I stepped out of the forest I awoke in and shifted my wings at the pleasant sensation of warm sunlight meeting them.

This place was very strange indeed.

I walked further out into the open, and the shorter grass of the forest grew taller and waved softly in the breeze. After climbing a nearby hill, I looked up. The sun shone brightly in the light blue sky, and I was glad that I had my cockpit hood to shield my optics.

Looking up and away from the sun, I instantly recognized the faded twin moons in the western half of the sky.

Far behind me I saw great metal mountains, and a massive, glowing city. At the base of those mountains, I saw the bright, golden glow emanate from the massive structures that made up the skyline of the city even in the day. The sheer height and size of them made these buildings a great feat of engineering, one humans will never be able to meet. The tallest of the buildings reached several miles high. Even from this far away, I could see the smooth architecture of the towers, as well as elevated tunnel highways that connected a few of the largest buildings. I even saw the enormous, blue crystal statue of Solus Prime holding her Forge high just outside the west gate of the city.

Iacon.

Awed at the sight of the glowing city in the east, I saw flocks of massive mechanical birds fly overhead towards the city behind me, the light of the sun turning them into nothing but mesmerizing silhouettes. From the ground, they appeared large enough to ride on. The graceful creatures had immense wings and lengthy tails, flapping slowly in the sky. They weaved in and out of each other, constantly forming new flocks among themselves. I heard them call, and the screech sounded like no other animal I had heard on Earth.

As I admired the beautiful animals, listening to the gentle wind whistle around me, I started to think of all that I had seen. This place is certainly a techno-organic world. The soft grass beneath my pedes and the metal mountains in the distance confirms that. Now, the city of Iacon was definitely a sight that I was not expecting to see. Then again, none of this was what I expected to see.

I expected to see the hard lights of my medical bay after I opened my optics. I expected the procedure to save my son to have been completed. I expected to see my son...

At the thought of my son, a realization dawned on me.

This place must be a representation of my son's mind. The connection between our sparks made by the power siphon must have allowed my consciousness to move into his subconscious.

In the back of my mind I found this experience to be a very interesting one, and was reminded of the cortical psychic patch, but more important thoughts came to me in the front. Why was I taken here?

And if this is his mind, where is Optimus?

Fear surged through me as I spun around, searching the grassland for any sign of my son. The beautiful place instantly took on a much more ominous aura. Something is very wrong. My son has to be here in his own mind! If I can't see him now, where in this place is he? And how am I supposed to find him?

Just as I was about to transform and perform an aerial search, I saw something moving in the grass. Automatically tensing, I stood still as I watched the tall grass part in multiple places. My spark rate increased slightly as I watched the tall grass part and move as though there were snakes slithering towards me.

I took a step back as I lifted my wings, preparing to lift off. I have no idea what that is, but I do not plan to stay here and figure out if it is a threat.

Thankfully, I didn't need to worry about any sort of threat.

Amazed, I watched a group of red turbofoxes spring from the grass and race past me. The sheer number of them shocked me as they carefully ran around me, towards the city behind me in the distance. As the orange blurs shot past, I counted more than twenty of them together.

I couldn't help but notice that these animals seemed to all head towards the far away city. The birds that I saw earlier were doing the same thing. They seem to be attempting to seek refuge in the city. What are they trying to escape?

Suddenly, I noticed one of the foxes run up to me. The large animal's orange topaz optics glittered as she made eye contact with my blood-red ones and began to chatter frantically. After looking closer at the animal I saw that it was a vixen. I only looked down at her, giving her a confused look and wondering what she was trying to say. What does any fox say, for that matter?

The fox looked back the way she came in a nervous manner, and her ears lowered. I followed the turbofox's gaze, and all I saw was the open grassland and a few scattered trees. The fox started to move around my legs to follow its comrades with her tail very low. Her topaz eyes glinted as she looked back up at me, and there was no mistaking the pure fear in them.

With a final chirp, the vixen dashed off, following the rest of the group.

I was not sure of what the fox was saying, but I was certain that they were all fearful of something out there.

These animals are representations of different aspects of Optimus's mind. If they are reacting with such fear in a place that is supposed to be their safe, comfortable home, there is something terribly wrong. And I sensed that I needed to find out exactly what was causing this.

I looked off in the direction the foxes came from, towards the west, noting that dark, foreboding clouds were starting to come in from there. I cycled air through my systems.

Wary of the dark clouds moving overhead, and determined, I transformed and flew off.

...

I had been carefully flying at a steady pace for only a few minutes and I couldn't help but take note of the changes taking place in the environment around me. The trees were no longer lush and lively in the grassland. They now looked as they had been struck by an atomic blast, seeing that they all were blackened, limbless and leaning. The grass was no longer tall and green. The plants had dried out and died a while ago. I knew that the dried plants would easily combust, given a small spark. The dark clouds overhead blocked out most of the sun's comforting light.

It was all a terrible sight, but at the same time, this told me that I was going where I needed to go.

The wind speed picked up, and I decided that it would be a wiser idea to continue my journey on foot. I've not been a flyer more than seventy-two hours, and I know very little about flight beyond the absolute basics Dreadwing taught me, which are meant to keep me from killing myself. And in this techno-organic land, I cannot rely on my knowledge of Earth or Cybertronian weather patterns, as atmospheric conditions have the potential to go either way.

I transformed midair, and I made sure that I was close enough to the ground, remembering what happened the last time I attempted to land at an unsafe height. I landed hard on my pedes in a large patch of dried grass, baring my teeth at the stress put on my joints.

My cockpit hood slid back down to cast a heavy shadow over my faceplate as something caught my eye. To my right, I noticed a figure, far away in the distance. The figure was just far enough for me to have difficulties in performing a positive identification, even if I do adjust my lenses, but close enough for me to know that the figure was indeed a bot.

The bot was red, and had a soft light shining around their helm, despite the dark shadows of the clouds above us. I could see that they were holding a glowing purple rod in both servos, with the butt of the staff planted firmly on the ground in front of them. I could only wonder who this person was, since this is my son's mind. This person could only be a memory of someone long past or merely another figment of my son's imagination. Who or whatever they were, I did not feel that they were a threat.

The red bot removed one hand from the staff and held it out at arm's length to their left. It did not take me long to realize that the bot intended for me to look in the direction they were pointing.

I looked, and there was a black, narrow and dilapidated road.

Perplexed, I gazed back at the bot with the staff, only to see them blow away like sand in the wind. I suppose that they had served their purpose in showing me the road that I knew was not there before.

I moved my attention back towards that sinister road, and made my way onto it. As soon as I set foot on the dead road, a strong, biting cold wind rushed at me, striking me in the face. I bowed my head and turned slightly away from the current, squinting against the cold. I could even feel a small amount of ice forming on my cockpit hood. It was as if the wind didn't want me to get to my destination. I grinned.

Well, it's going to have to do much more than that to keep me from finding my son.

It was not easy, but I did manage to walk forward on this road, with this terrible headwind. As I walked the pavement beneath my pedes quickly gave way to black gravel, and the environment around me seemed to fall apart. The trees were reduced to nothing more than badly time worn stone pillars and eventually disappeared altogether. Grass was nonexistent, and I could no longer see the blue sky past the dark clouds. The broken road that I followed had widened from a simple foot trail to a four lane street.

Towering around me, buildings that could have once been considered true works of beauty stood crippled. I slowed my pace as I looked up and around, horrified and saddened at the sight of the Cybertonian structures. Many of them were black and weathered from years of abandonment and neglect. I suspected that there more streets than this highway I walked on, but I saw none due to the looming piles of rubble at the bases of the remaining ones.

Sheets of metal large enough to drive on jutted out of the wreckage, and all of them were jagged and leaned in the opposite direction of where I was going. They looked as if they had been blasted that way by a massive explosion.

The angular towers feebly reached up to the sky, many of them bearing massive holes created by time and explosives. Glass and shrapnel littered the road before me and whirled around in the wind. I made sure to tread carefully and ensure that none of the glass shards lodged themselves under the plating on my pedes and I used my servo to shield my optics from the debris.

A chill washed over me as I walked, and it was not only because of the freezing wind. This place was very different from the glorious, golden city I saw before. This place was a warzone a very long time ago. I have nothing indicating if one or the other side won, but it is quite obvious that this now dark place lost.

The dead city was very unsettling to say the very least, and I did my best to ignore the ancient destruction looming over me. I glared, and my blood-red optics brightened, focused on the black and broken road. I decided that this scenery wasn't important. Nothing around me was important.

Nothing mattered except my son. I need to find my baby.

Soon the weathered buildings were left behind, and the broken road I walked on filled most of the land. The area was mostly destroyed, with dust and glass flying in the strong, icy wind. Black clouds swirled ominously over my head, and I was glad that I chose to travel on foot for the time being. I would rather not deal with the winds up there, especially if the wind is this powerful on the ground.

Then, I looked up and stared in horror at the terrible sight of what was at the end of this dilapidated road.

It loomed higher than any of the buildings in the golden city and the dead city. The black clouds circled above the jagged and angular structure, and only a tiny amount of sunlight came through the thick cloud covering. The dark clouds occasionally lit up with a bright flash of lightning and I heard the thunder rumble almost instantly afterwards.

The wall in front of it was five times my height and stretched to the left and right as far as the eye can see. Contrary to everything else around me, the gate and fence was in pristine condition, and appeared to be made of very high quality metal plating. The top of the gate was lined with spikes placed close together and angled towards the building. I could see a blue-white crackle of energy between each spike. It was very obvious that the energy gate was meant to keep things in rather than out.

I couldn't help but marvel at the size of the building beyond the gate from my location outside of it. This structure sat on the ground like a predator lying in wait. At the back of the building I could see a curved spire that reached up and over the roof, aiming towards the gate. The end of the tower was bright red and glowing. I was reminded of a scorpion's tail prepared to strike, as well as an armed cannon.

The curved tower bore blood-red circuit boards that moved along the length of cannon like structure. The entire building was covered in these glowing red circuit boards, flowing down from the building's curved sides and to the ground.

Even though the building was larger than any one I had seen, it looked as if it were capable of flight. I could see protrusions on the sides of the building that looked very close to side thrusters, standard the larger ships.

I shivered in the cold wind blowing from the building. I could hear beyond the gate the sounds of heavy machinery and bots working. I could hear gears and metal moving around, and bots harshly shouting orders. It all was loud enough for me to tell that it was not inside the building. But oddly I did hear at the same time the sounds of an energized crowd cheering from inside the oblong structure. I instantly thought of the cheers of a densely populated gladiatorial arena.

The very sight of the place chilled me to the protoform, and I shifted my wings uneasily. Many parts of it looked frighteningly familiar. The entire area felt demonic and evil in nature, as well as terribly powerful. This is the source of the biting wind. This is the hell that the animals were trying to flee from and what that vixen must have been chirping so frantically about to me.

And as I gazed up this nightmarish building, I heard the faint, echoed cries of a frightened and trapped sparkling from inside.

Alright, I have to cut it here. I was going to continue on, but I quickly saw that it would have gotten far too long. Like ten thousand words too long. And besides, this is a good spot to end this chapter.

After being on one side for so long, it must be tough to call all that Soundwave's worked for into question.

Yeah, Soundwave does know of the location of the Autobot base, but the only ones that know that are Soundwave himself and Ratchet, and he wants to keep it that way, in case you were wondering why Soundwave didn't just send the Autobots and Knockout there himself.

That case with Jeanna Giese was not made up. That actually did happen.

I love the 2013 film Pacific Rim, case you see the reference. ;)

P.S. Guess what, guys! I got accepted to the top college I want to go to! YEAH! XD I've even got my college ID now!