Fire of Youth

Chapter 18

*Note to Kaleia: Fowler's "drunk/crazy sleep talk" will be showing up every now and again. I'd personally like to see Infernus and Grim react to that. Or even Blue. God, Blue would either be confused or fall to the floor laughing like an idiot. xD "Bleunanafish!"

Bulkhead and Wheeljack are the two being sent to investigate the so-called "danger" creatures i.e. ones that have actually harmed native life forms for one reason or another. Right now they're busy investigating some Meso-American creatures like Ahuizotl and Quetzalcoatl.


Fowler's requisition order of Zircon came within seven days – and Ratchet instantly set to with the crystals the very moment they were set at his disposal.

Those seven days had been thankfully lacking in Decepticon activity, leaving the Autobots and their human allies with some much needed recovery time, and some time for their newest arrival to further acclimate. Such an ambient familiarization was made rather...interesting thanks to a certain young Asian girl and her explosively-oriented Wrecker friend. Grimwing learned during that time to never trust Miko or Wheeljack when they had spare time on their hands, as trouble tended to follow them around like a second shadow. But he took to the energetic human well in spite of her somewhat intimidating energy and her off-putting liking of fighting. She had spirit in her. He admired that.

The Avioid's task of aiding Ratchet in identification also went on during the wait. And it turned out he did not know as many as he thought he had. Only a handful struck any chord of recognition within him, and these were flagged for later investigation. Surprisingly, the mythological monsters he recognized were more minor ones, not famous ones like the Greek Hind or Cerberus or the Asiatic Garuda. Raf admitted that might be helpful – even so-called "minor" beasts were still dangerous and powerful, and the 'Cons might not waste resources on finding them or their remains. Grimwing seemed far more interested in locating his rival, Skyrender. He, Rafael, and Ratchet scoured the internet for rumors of another Thunderbird tirelessly. None were found.

Those seven days also permitted the young Prime to further recover from his earlier inflicted wounds. Neal paid the hangar regular visits to talk with him, Grimwing, or Mark (looking over Grimwing's injuries as well) or to give Infernus a light soaking of his strange sweet-tangy oil. Ratchet was interested in the substance and wanted to know if he could possibly have the ingredients of it since it was so effective. But like Infernus, the old medic was playfully denied. By the time the sixth day rolled around, the oil was no longer needed – his welds had resolved themselves to unsightly but faint scarring all across his body. Adrian and Katelyn popped by soon after that, saying that if wanted them to they could try to smooth them out with their detail buffers or even paint in some designs to cover them up. Infernus jokingly asked if they couldn't do both.

He didn't know till the following day that they'd taken the joking suggestion literally, smoothing out the welds as best as they could before concealing them with odd symbols that Adrian called runes and glyphs – something straight out of the Witcher series. He kind of appreciated the subtle nod to his team's present occupation of "monster hunting." Man, if only he had Witcher powers though...

Oh, and the ones they used?

They represented fire.


Neal and Mark stood outside, leaning their backs against the hangar. The latter balanced precariously on one booted foot, the other planting vertically on the wall behind him. Somehow, through some means, he managed to stay perfectly upright without even the slightest wobble. Jack and Miko stood at their sides – the older teen boy calmly, the girl bouncing and cheering at the sight all four humans observed. If Wheeljack and Bulkhead were not out scouting some Decepticon activity in Central America, they would've enjoyed the sight.

Infernus was locked in a friendly spar with both Prowl and Ultra Magnus. Prowl wanted to see and take note of any and all combat differences this new beast form provided. Ultra Magnus was more concerned about strategy; and something else Ratchet had pointed out to him in hushed whisper one evening when the Primeling was away on one of his nightly prowls around the compound: his more volatile emotions. He wanted to teach Infernus how to use that as an advantage, rather that let it become a hindrance – one that might get him killed.

To say that Ultra Magnus and Prowl had their hands full would have been an understatement. The highly logical, by-the-book mechs were having incredible amounts of trouble trying to keep up with the Primeling's erratic attacks and seemingly random strategies. But that was actually a good thing. Being predictable was a death sentence. Being unpredictable was a life-saver. If the enemy couldn't predict your movements, they couldn't compensate.

Prowl fired off some low-powered shots to try and draw his attention off Magnus so he could strike. From the way he was fighting, it certainly looked like his aggressive Predacon coding was starting to take over. He was growling and his movements were more sudden, like the way an Earth animal would lash out if it felt cornered. That was the point of this: to trigger that coding but be there to help him make use of it.

Ultra Magnus lunged in from behind with his blades, but Infernus heard him. Snarling, his spear-tipped tail soundly connected with the mech's torso with such force that he skidded back a dozen feet. The Primeling whipped around and spat a stream of fire in his direction, forcing him to flee. Prowl tried to leap at Infernus's back and shove his sheathed blades into his back. He succeeded getting onto his back – only his victory was short lived. Infernus, sensing the unwanted passenger, suddenly rolled forward, slightly to one side...and straight onto his back, crushing Prowl with his own mass. He lay there, stunned but relatively unharmed.

'Rather creative.' Prowl admitted to himself. Painfully effective, too.

The black and white tactician was appeased for the rather embarrassing defeat moments later. By the time the Primeling had finished the crush roll and was rounding for another go, the Commander was there, pointing a sword to his lower neck whilst holding a glowing gun barrel to his helm.

"Dead." said Ultra Magnus.

Infernus growled before shifting out of his beast form. He looked annoyed. This very same mistake had happened before when he'd stupidly rushed in to try to grab the Star Saber from the mountain. And here he was, a Prime with the tactical knowledge of his predecessors – and he'd still done it again. Rookie mistake. He was supposed to be better than that.

"Never let your focus stray. Just because one enemy is unable to fight for a time does not mean they cannot rejoin the fray later." said Ultra Magnus. "By losing focus on a target you open a window for another enemy to strike. Lose focus on a Decepticon and they will back-stab you with no warning and no remorse. A back-stab from Megatron or Starscream could prove lethal. You have to be able to focus on multiple targets at once. Multi-tasking your senses during a fight will save your life. Practice that whenever you can."

The Primeling's annoyance faded as he listened to him. Now, his expression was one of a boy eager to learn.

"Yes, sir." he said.

Ultra Magnus nodded. "Very good. Dismissed."

Infernus helped Prowl back to his pedes with an apology and a followed request for him to go see Ratchet. He hadn't meant to physically hurt him like that. It had sort of just...happened. A reversion to instinct. Kind of. In all the ways that counted. He didn't look hurt other than looking sore, but he'd better have Ratchet look him over just in case.

Prowl nodded and made his way inside, admitting that, while sore, he wasn't receiving any damage notifications. But he appreciated his caution.

And by heading for the hangar he got bowled into by an excited Bluestreak. Infernus resisted the urge to snicker. Poor Prowl was having a bad day so far. Twice getting knocked around or generally struck by large forces. Luck was not on his sibling's side today.

"Guys! Guys, guys, guys! Raf and Ratchet found us another possible Predacon! I mean, they're kinda certain it might be one. Not totally, but there's a chance! Even got a live sighting of it on this weird conspiracy site Raf found! Some creepy looking black dog in north Wales. Looks like somethin' straight from the Pit! Freaky as scrap!"

The Primeling's attention diverted in a flash. "Show me."

Bluestreak eagerly waved him, Prowl, and Magnus inside.


"What'd you guys find? Blue said it was some kinda freaky black dog from Wales?"

Raf's head whipped back to nod vigorously at him as Infernus drew nearer Ratchet's console.

"It's called the Gwyllgi; the 'Dog of Darkness' or 'Black Hound of Destiny' by the Welsh. Apparently it's seen pretty often on lonely roads at night – once every month or so. Favorite haunt is the Nant y Garth pass near Llandegla in Denbighshire, but it's been spotted farther south, too. It's some kind of evil fairy dog according to lore. Some say it's basically harmless while others say it's a portent of ill-fate; i.e. you meet this thing on the road, bad stuff'll go down soon after. Also might be the related to the Welsh Cŵn Annwn – the Hounds of Death."

"Oh, charmin'." Neal deadpanned. "We're goin' after hell hounds now, are we? What's next? Werewolves and vampires?"

Here the boy brought up an image on his laptop, it's monitor being linked to Ratchet's console. Appearing on the screen was a pitch black dog the size of a mountain lion or panther, big and muscular looking, very wolfish in its appearance. Two sets of glowing red eyes arranged in rows pierced the darkness around it. Shadows wrapped around its shimmering black body like a cloak, only half of its body visible through it. This wasn't a picture of the beast itself, but an artist's rendition Ratchet clarified for the onlookers. No one had ever managed to get a clear image of it. This had been created by a sketch artist within the last few weeks from an eyewitness.

"Sketch artist? As in the case of a crime or attack?" Jack asked. He didn't like where this was suddenly going. The looks on Mark's and Neal's faces showed a similar dislike.

"What happened?" Prowl demanded.

"Some truck driver found out recently never to try and approach it." Raf explained. "Guy got too close to try to get a picture and it lashed out at him. After it was done it just...disappeared. Like, turned invisible. That's what the report said. His buddy called the emergency line his injuries were so bad. Looked like he got mauled by a mountain lion or a bear or something. He's gonna be okay, but they had to amputate one of his arms it got so messed up. Weird thing is, this is the first ever reported attack. Up till now it's left people alone."

Grimwing growled. This thing had the bearings to attack an innocent human just trying to snap a picture of it? That was not provocation of any kind. Humans were naturally curious about things they had never seen before or things they did not understand. Granted he himself had not wanted to be photographed for his own reasons, as he did not want to be found or cause a general panic among the natives, but he had never attacked to make that desire known. He had made that request clear through body language and/or speech.

Still though. He saw no Decepticon crest on the Gwyllgi's body. Either it was unaligned and had removed it itself, or else the wounded human had not seen it in time.

Ratchet continued:

"Now, that's not the only thing we managed to find. That's simply a live sighting we found that merits investigation. While Rafael's investigated this particular beast, I've been doing research of my own alongside creating Grimwing's visor."

"Like?" Jack prompted.

"Such as: An oil drilling team recently came across a peculiar find. One of their drills struck what looked like the jaw of a shark – but it was obviously metallic. Possibly the remains of a Leviacon or else a Sharkticon. What made it strange to me and the finders was that this jaw was found in El Paso, Texas of all places – hundreds of miles from any ocean. I've also uncovered a distinct Energon signal in Scotland's highlands, deep underground. We could definitely add more to our present stockpile. We might also find another fossil there, as we now have reason to believe that these deposits were guarded by Predacon clones. Luckily the Decepticons have not decided to converge on the location yet."

"That's three separate missions, Ratchet." Arcee noted. "Do we even have enough 'Bots to spare, with Wheeljack and Bulk not here?"

The medic eyed Infernus a bit hesitantly. "I...believe Infernus might be well enough for him to partake in one of the three missions."

The young mech could've squealed his delight, and frankly a little noise of happiness did escape his vocalizer. Ratchet was finally giving him a clean bill of health! He could finally get out and help again! Freaking finally! Oh, to get out and fly again! Pit, just to be out in the open again, to explore!

"However..." Ratchet held a finger up.

He groaned. Of course. He just had to go and put conditions on this, didn't he? Just had to ruin his fun.

"However, due to El Paso's population and the oil field being undoubtedly manned in some way, or at least it having some form of surveillance, I would advise you going either to Scotland's highlands or north Wales. You can take someone with you if you want to or go alone – I highly recommend a companion if you go to Wales. The Gwyllgi may not be the largest Predacon to date, but it is highly aggressive and agile. From the report it may be implied it is a natural cloaker as well. I'm counting on you to be sensible about whichever you choose."

"I'll take the Wales mission, then." Infernus decided after a moment. "The 'Cons might – just a theory – be following our strategy of looking for still live Predacons to conserve resources. Shockwave may not have the same level of stuff he needs to clone multiple beasts like he did during the War. You wanna beat a Pred, you have a Pred fight it. And maybe Grim could tag along, too. Y'know, so he can get out and see more of the world? Should be sparse enough there people wise that we should both be okay. And I wouldn't be going alone. We can leave the Scotland one for later, once we get this Gwyllgi thing straightened out."

He turned a bit suddenly to the black and white tactician.

"Actually – Prowl, you wanna tag along? You haven't gone out on a mission yet."

Prowl nodded. "You stand a much better chance in a fight if I am there to provide insight on the creature. Cloakers are troublesome enough to deal with, but this one seems even more troublesome than usual due to its aggression and speed."

Infernus smirked: "You could've just said yes."

The tactician did not smirk back...but Infernus swore he saw the faintest flicker of a genuine smile ghost across Prowl's lip-plates. Was Prowl finally learning to loosen up a little?

"Want me to go with him, Ratchet?" Mark offered. "Just to keep him outta trouble?"

"Hey! Come on! Seriously! Why does everyone keep assuming I'm gonna do something stupid?!" Infernus snapped, hurt. It wasn't until afterwards he noticed the private's smirk and the twinkle in his eyes.

Mark laughed: "I'm kidding, bro. Calm down. I know you won't try anything, like, super insane. Not with Prowl around. He'd give you an earful. Doc would, too."

Ratchet managed a wry, somewhat admitting smile and said that wouldn't be a problem. Honestly, having two Predacons, an Autobot, and Mark try to capture or terminate the Gwyllgi was a bit excessive in his opinion. But he supposed one could never be too careful with a creature this hostile. A well-aimed shot from Mark's rifle or from Grimwing might damage its cloaking mechanism long enough for it to be dealt with. If they could get the shot, of course...

"Try to bring the creature back online if you would, Prime. We might possibly glean information from it about others like it or else more general intelligence. But if it proves too much hassle, proves too violent or too uncooperative, eliminate it and bring the body here for disposal. We cannot allow Shockwave to claim it as a battlefield resource, nor can we let him revive the beast as a clone." said Ultra Magnus grimly.

The Primeling returned the request with a grave, dark nod. He was hoping it wouldn't come to that.

"Alright, then."

"Oh! And Grimwing, you shouldn't have to worry about having any eye trouble out there. I did a weather check and it's cloudy around north Wales right now. Scattered rain showers, too. You should be okay." Raf added. "I dunno whether or not you'll get wet, Mark. Just a heads-up."

Yanking down on the control lever for the groundbridge, Ratchet opened up another wormhole to the general location of the Gwyllgi's first ever reported attack. In a rush of sound the wormhole diligently opened. Infernus transformed and let Mark clamber onto his back once more, rifle slung over his should just like before. Prowl and Grimwing joined him at his sides.

"G'luck out there, fellas." said Neal. "Keep an eye on the yázhí for me, would you, Grim? Make sure this Gwyl-thing don't give him any extra welds. Your good doctor has enough on his plate now without having to sew the kid back together again."

Grimwing assured him no harm would befall the Prime so long as he guarded him. Neal wasn't the only one to look reassured at his words. The quartet made to leave, but a voice interrupted them, making them pause right on the event horizon:

"Smoke, if you need an assist – don't hesitate to call one of us. 'Bot or human. We're all here for you." Arcee reminded him.

"Totally! Mobile shout outs all the way!" Miko agreed. She gave him a thumbs up gesture and a wicked grin. "Now go give that bad dog some obedience lessons!"

The white dragon's blue eyes glittered anew with fiery determination. He gave a sharp bob of the head in her direction. Then, with a flick of his tail, he vanished.


Rafael's weather check proved accurate, for which Grimwing was thankful. The instant they came out of the portal, light rain began to tickle the hides of the metal aliens. Luckily it was only a misting of water and not enough to drench the human on Infernus's back; it was cold enough to make him shiver though.

Prowl looked around, analyzing everything. It would probably be a good idea to get under cover somewhere. Up here they were exposed. The only problem there was that the hillside above this particular stretch of the Nant y Garth pass was devoid of shelter aside from a few clusters of thick-boughed trees dotted around and the occasional little farmhouse or barn. There was a very low chance they were unoccupied since domestic animals roamed the hillside near those structures. In the distance, the spires of a small church peeked over a hillside opposite them. They would have to be careful. Inhabitants might spot them.

Mark shielded his eyes from the persistent drizzle and looked around himself. Weird. No place this thing might hide out without being caught.

"I'm not seeing any caves or abandoned buildings. Where's this thing hide out?" he wondered.

"A valid question. As of yet I do not have enough information to form a theory." said Prowl noncommittally.

*Well, the public report says the attack took place on the road, not on a hillside. Says it's that-a-way.* Infernus pointed his snout away from the nearby settlement and towards the open road that led deeper into the countryside.

"The scene of the attack will offer more data..." admitted the tactician cautiously. "But there's a risk of civilian drivers seeing you and Grimwing as they commute. Your color stands out starkly, Prime. My vehicle mode is similar to the ones employed by highway patrol officers. Let me scout ahead. Once I deem it clear, you may approach."

Grimwing nodded. "Very well. But as I do not stand out as much, I will remain closer under cover to watch your back, battle-planner. My olfactory sensors will detect the Gwyllgi's foreign sent more easily than yours. If Infernus stays back further, you will have an alert system set up. If we do not manage to incapacitate it, you will at least have fair warning of its coming ambush."

Prowl glanced at the Avioid in mild surprise. He had been thinking the same thing, and Grimwing had taken the words right out of his mouth. Civil, powerful, and well-versed in strategy? They had quite the boon here. Shockwave had been a fool to toss him aside over a simple difference in warfare opinions. That could have been corrected with some rewiring of the processor. And now the mistake was giving the enemy an edge.

"Find a place to shelter out of immediate sight for a short time. I will contact each of you once I have found the attack site, secured it, and gathered enough data to speculate as to the creature's whereabouts."

He recieved three nods in return. Transforming, Prowl drown down the hillside and onto the open road. Carefully, the two beasts followed his path, sticking close to whatever shadows or cover they had and well away from any possible sources of eyewitnesses. Infernus paused after a quarter mile, motioning with his forepaws and helm for Grimwing to stay.

*I'm still getting the hang of my enhanced senses, Grim. You've had way more practice. Better if Prowl has as early a warning as possible if this thing shows. You stay here. I'll take the closer post. There's not a lot of people on the road. I can take cover behind one one of those rises. You can stay here in this cluster of trees. Should offer some cover for you. 'Kay?*

"Understood. A wise strategy. Spirits guard you, Prime." He gave an odd motion to him with his hand before shifting down into his beast form, sheltering amidst the small grove of trees.

Satisfied, Infernus slunk off to assume his post with Mark.

If this thing so much as scratched Prowl or even Grimwing, there'd be hell to pay. It wouldn't live to regret the choice. As far as he cared, if you were stupid enough to tangle with or threaten a dragon...you'd get burned.


Prowl reached the site of the attack within only a few minutes. Ratchet had been considerate yet cautious enough to deposit them within three miles of the coordinates supplied in the report.

The site did not look anything spectacular at first glance. He knelt to get a better look. There were some nicks and scratches in the smooth asphalt that indicated the Gwyllgi's presence, and some dark splashes nearby that were only too plainly blood patches. The creature's attack had been violent enough that it had left long-term evidence. But the native police force had probably already combed the scene. Time could be saved by having Rafael, er, "acquire" the police reports.

"Rafael? Is there any way for you to hack into the police department responsible for canvasing the scene? Having the report would aid in the investigation."

[Yeah. Might take me a sec though. I don't usually go hacking police departments.]

"Alert me when you have the reports. Have Ratchet send them to me."

He kept looking. There were very faint skid marks a dozen or so feet from the blood and scratches. That showed the driver had stopped suddenly, probably after he had spotted the creature's dark form. Whether or not this attack had occurred at night or in broad daylight could not be determined with what he had. He would need the report for that. If it had occurred during the day that might indicate it was naturally aggressive; if at night, then perhaps the creature had simply been taken unawares and had reacted instinctively as any startled creature would to a threat.

The sheer violence described by Rafael though – the victim's mauled appearance, his arm having to be amputated...

[Got 'em.] Rafael reported. [Ratchet's sending them to you now.]

"Thank you. I have them."

[No problem.]

The pilfered reports were much more detailed and offered the time of day for the attack: night. The truck driver and a rotational passenger had been on a nighttime delivery run from the southern Welsh settlement of Madeley, Staffordshire to Rhuddlan in Denbighshire. He'd hit this section of road at around 2200 hours, having slammed on the brakes after noting a large, dog-like form stalking across the road. Excited at the prospect of seeing the Gwyllgi, he'd hopped out in all innocence to snap a picture of the beast with his cell phone while his buddy manned the truck.

The driver himself was young, only twenty-three or so stellar cycles, (by name of Oliver Yates) and this was his first "graveyard shift." His family had a trucking business that went back quite a ways, and as such his family had had stories and sightings of the Gwyllgi and the much rarer Cŵn Annwn since he'd been a boy. To be the first person to ever snap a picture of the "Black Hound of Destiny" had been too tempting a concept for him. The beast had watched him with its two sets of red eyes as he'd gotten closer, and he'd done everything he could think of to show it that he wasn't an enemy. He'd raised his phone to take the image...

And the next thing he knew he was lying in a pool of blood, agony wracking his body, his friend frantically dialing the emergency line of the nearest settlement.

Prowl hemmed: "Hm. So the creature obviously felt threatened. But maybe it understood the human's intent to photograph it and reacted to try and remove an eyewitness? Definitely shows a desire to stay hidden from the natives. But...why come out of hiding at all then? And so regularly? A lot of other people have seen it in the past and it's never reacted this way so far as we know. Was it the cell phone, the concept of solid evidence? An eyewitness no matter how honest mayn't be believed, but a picture on the other hand..."

He rose. The Gwyllgi's intent during the attack was fairly clear to him now, but he still did not understand why it would risk coming out of hiding so regularly or even where it was hiding to begin with. Neither human had noticed which direction it had gone in since it had apparently turned invisible after the attack: cloaked itself from sight.

Prowl reported his findings to Infernus and Grimwing. Then he offered a suggestion, remembering what Ratchet had mentioned about the sensory capabilities of Predacons.

"Prime, the Gwyllgi may be able to cloak itself from sight, but there is a low chance it can disguise its scent – or has even bothered to, considering only humans have ever seen it and the humans believe it to be a dangerous phantom. That it comes out so often shows it to be strategically bold or perhaps careless. You and Grimwing come down here to get a scent and perhaps we can track it to wherever it is hiding."

[Right. Good idea. Erm...I think you better have Grim do it, though. Like I said, still not so great with my new super-senses.]

"Alright. Grimwing? Could you come to my location? Be careful."

[I will be there shortly, battle-planner.]

He set the line back to idle and transformed – a precaution should a driver pass him. Within the minute he had to tell Grimwing to pause in his approach, as a convoy of police vehicles came down the highway towards Prowl. Silently he cursed. He knew they were here to search for the creature as well, but he'd have to think fast to get them to leave; they were in danger if they stayed. Hand forced, Prowl switched on his hard-light hologram and made it exit the driver's side, after making it assume the garb of a military officer. He'd done some reading into the law enforcement agencies of the world; the highest one in Britain and surrounding regions was MI6. Local police agencies were unlikely to argue with him with this appearance.

The cars pulled up, their lights extinguished. Six officers, four males and two females, exited the cars. Two of them went 'round to the back seats and let out a duo of dogs, fairly large ones that had thick coats of brown, black, and white fur. He held up one hand, being careful to keep the other on his vehicle form to keep the illusion steady.

"Please back away. This investigation has been transferred over to operative of MI6 due to the danger posed."

"What? MI6 you say?" demanded one of the officers, a man, curiously. "First I've heard of –"

"Please leave. The creature is a viable threat to anyone here without proper armaments or training. Your guns are unlikely to do more than agitate it. It could still be in the general area considering the long list of sightings in this vicinity through the years. This attack took place only a few st-days ago. It will not appreciate being tracked by your canines or by any of you."

All six officers shared confused but suddenly wary glances. Their dogs shifted uneasily, whines escaping their throats. He could not tell whether they were eager or frightened or even both.

"You sure? You're just one guy. We could offer a hand or two just to be safe." offered the female officer who appeared to be in charge of the group.

"That is not necessary. Other members of my unit will be joining me shortly. But I will repeat my warning: leave. The creature is dangerous and highly aggressive, and it is highly likely it stalks this general area. Leave and let my unit handle this. You needn't worry further about the investigation."

The officers hesitated. Then the leader female officer nodded: "If you say so, sir. Be careful. You don't want to end up like poor Yates."

"Thank you for your concern. Now please vacate the area. Return to town. We will handle this."

Rather reluctantly, the six officers and their two canines got back in the cars and left. His hologram sighed in relief as he dismissed it. That had been stupidly risky of him to pull, and the MI6 association would have to be cleared and verified with Fowler to prevent suspicion from rising. But at least he'd saved six innocent lives and two native, trained animals.

Almost the instant they were out of visual range he heard a low growl from near him. He transformed, drawing his blades. An invisible force cannoned into his chestplates, knocking him onto the ground. He tried to shove the weight off even as he felt serrated claws rake against his mesh savagely. Mesh rupture alerts bombarded his processor. He felt warm liquid on his chestplates, saw it ooze out from ugly rends. Yet their maker was unseen despite being felt.

And Infernus came, screaming. The youth thundered towards him. He leapt. Claws glowing with heat connected with the invisible force, knocking it off Prowl's chassis with the force of an oncoming train. He took up a defensive position near Prowl. On his back, Mark readied and aimed his rifle, eyes searching for the faintest hint of the Gwyllgi's position. On spotting a faint wisp of smoke or perhaps steam, he fired. An unearthly howl met the three. Electricity from the bullets danced up and down the frame of the invisible target. The air shimmered like a mirage.

Standing there, now visible to all, was a muscular wolf-like dog of pitch black metal about the size of a bear, two sets of glowing red eyes arranged in twin columns glaring at them. A fang maw was arrayed in a viscous growling snarl. Its serrated claws dripped with fresh Energon. On its upper chest was a purple Decepticon crest.

"Gotcha, ugly." said Mark.

With another growl, the Gwyllgi charged the white dragon.