Author's Notes: Here we are again with chapter two! Nothing new to report, so let's jump right into it! Please drop a comment and share what you think, and please enjoy!

Chapter 2

Date: January 1, 2020 Late Afternoon

Rhea

She shoved her apartment door open, then tossed the keys haphazardly into their respective dish on the nearby table. She went trudging down the quiet hallways, groaning the whole way until the couch was in sight. And it wasn't a Cybertronian couch with metal rivets and an unyielding surface. It was the one with the softest weighted blanket known to man draped over it. In moments it would be all hers, soft and compressing for her to undo the damage of this crazy day. But first, more medication for her splitting headache.

She dropped her bag on its awaiting hook because toe curling pain be damned, she would not lose her orderly house. She wasn't that far gone. Then she slogged into the kitchen, still moaning, and threw open the medicine cabinet. There she found the extra strength migraine medication with enough caffeine in it to probably power a whole city block for a day. She took two, then popped another after giving it some thought. She was going to be a Cybertronian in a little while after all. She didn't need her liver.

The couch welcomed her like a lover waiting on the wharf for their long-lost soldier coming home. She lay face down in the pillow, dragged the best blanket over her whole body, and then exhaled until her lungs almost collapsed. She had been faking being ok so not to worry Soundwave and Laserbeak. But he knew her, and he begged her to return home to rest while he went to deal with the Autobots. She had only gone when he insisted. But now that she no longer had to grit her teeth and fake it, she could just lay here and be openly in pain to her heart's content. She still felt bad for abandoning Soundwave to Arcee's wrath. But now that she was here, and not sitting through an argument between massive Cybertronians and their painful booming voices, she decided this was the right call.

Had Shockwave considered how painful the side effects of their testing would be? Did he mention them in passing? If he had, she now assumed he had significantly downplayed their severity. She was sure he didn't care, fudging the numbers so not to anger Soundwave until it was too late to stop. How could there be more invasive tests? What would that even look like? Would her brain just sort of fry in her skull until her eyeballs popped out? A gross word picture, but it was the only way she could visualize her headache getting any worse.

She closed her eyes to expel the real world. In the darkness she created, she could almost feel Soundwave's phantom fingers on her face again. The warmth of his own face in her palm. It would all be worth it in the end. She would go through any pain if she could have that again.

Her phone buzzed, robbing her of her fantasy. It rung in the exact way she programed it to in order to warn her an incoming call from Miko was imminent. She fumbled the device out of her pocket and quickly silenced its incessive buzzing. She did not have the energy or remaining brain cells to deal with Miko cross-examining her. Her boisterous friend could go to the West Coast base where Soundwave and the Autobots were currently and figure it out for herself.

Finally, Miko's name vanished from the phone screen and the silent ringing stopped. At last. Peace.

"GAH!" She shot up against the weighted blanket. The sudden screech in her ear threatened to pierce her already jumbled brain. She yanked the offender out of her ear to stop its verbal stabbing of her eardrum.

It was the translator? Even with every light having a halo and her eyes twitching, she stared at the small device constructed of Cybertronian tech and the bones of her old transistor radio. In its eleven-year lifespan since Soundwave gifted it to her, it had never done that. It could do many things, connecting to Soundwave and Laserbeak's private bonded frequency being the main purpose of its creation. She also utilized it to maintain her vigilance over Cybertronian radio signals or other work-related tasks. She wore it every day since it became hers and hardly even thought of it as not a part of her. But now she examined it with suspicion and only a touch of betrayal. Had she damaged it somehow? That was laughable, since it's Cybertronian shell and the skill of its creator assured it would outlive even her human lifespan without needing a tune up.

Hesitantly, she put it back to her ear, after turning down the frequency of course. She still had to wince against the audible cry it was transmitting. A broken jumble of radio interference scratched at her eardrum until she had to pull it out again. Odd was an understatement. She checked her phone, and it was silent. If something was wrong, and Soundwave was trying to communicate with her and the device failed, he would have called her cellphone immediately.

She pulled up her contacts. She already knew Miko would pick up quickly. She continued scrolling past her name, still not having the strength, even in this odd moment. Instead, she found Jack. The levelheaded young man of few words. He would be with Arcee back at base. He worked there. And Arcee would in turn be yelling at Soundwave for conducting the consciousness transfer experiment without her there to supervise.

Rhea typed into her and Jack's text chain, 'Is everything ok?'

She had to wait a moment, but Jack's side of their shared message screen soon informed her he was typing in reply. The box blinked open, 'The usual. You Cybertronian yet?'

She snorted a laugh and continued typing, 'No, I'm at home. That would be very inconsiderate for my landlord,' she hesitated, then added, 'How are the bots dealing with the whole thing?'

'Arcee is pissed, but no guns have come out, so that's progress… How you holding up?'

She considered telling him about the yet to be cured headache she was fending off, but that info would waft into Arcee's clutches. Then Soundwave would be at real risk of getting shot. 'Fine, just tired. Tell her not to worry about me.' Now with that out of the way, 'Don't say anything, but do you know if Soundwave is trying to contact me?'

A longer than average pause and the promise of Jack typing, 'I… Don't think so? He's trying to talk to Arcee right now. Key word being trying,' Another pause, 'Why?'

'No reason. Don't bring it up, he's busy. I'll talk to him later.'

Jack's final message came through, short and sweet, '…Ominous?'

She put her phone down and again resumed her staring contest with the translator. She turned up the volume and held it away from herself. Its loud screeching intensified. She let it. Then the jumble of static wavered as she changed how she held it. Very ominous indeed.

Against the advice of her aching brain, she stood from the couch. She walked forward, the device screaming. Its frantic cries lowered as she walked towards the wall. Like an odd game of hotter and colder, she turned around and headed for the window. It went nuts. She slid open the glass door to her balcony and headed outside. She leaned against the railing, holding the device out as far as she could reach without toppling over the barrier. It was the loudest it had been yet.

Then it stopped with a blip. She pulled it back to herself. She even risked putting it in her ear. Obediently silent, just like usual. As if nothing ever happened.

She looked out over the North Carolinian shoreline a mile or so from her apartment. Aside from the few very committed surfers, there were not many beach goers due to the cold time of year. Some buildings neighboring her own had recently added Cybertronian additions. A growing trend to save on energy costs now that the government wasn't confiscating every new model that popped up.

Her screaming translator phenomenon was oddly familiar. The headache was working against her brain's long-term memory. She had a hard time placing the feeling of deJa'Vu. But she was now thinking about her old transistor radio, the odd, otherworldly frequency leading her into the unknown.

That's right, it sort of reminded her of when…

Someone started banging on her apartment door at a border line frantic pace.

After recovering from the second near heart attack that day, Rhea shuffled back inside. She opened the door, then quickly regretted doing so. She should have pretended to have just been unconscious or dead by not answering.

A short and skinny Japanese girl decked out in attention grabbing garbs stood glaring in the doorway, arms folded with a look of pure betrayal, "Did you seriously not answer your phone when I kept calling, but then you texted Jack back?" Miko snapped in place of a hello.

Rhea mirrored her petty posture by crossing her own arms and leaning into the doorway, "did you seriously Groundbridge here because I didn't call back?"

Miko let herself in with a snort. Rhea was considering a fourth migraine pill. "So, did it not work? Tell me how it went! Plus, I was supposed to be there to watch!" She was over animated, as usual. Her newly dyed pink hair with gold highlights bobbed as she flailed. This would have been too much stimuli for Rhea even if she wasn't on the verge of having her head explode. There were two constants with Miko, no matter how much time had passed since their teenage years. The first: She was an endless supply of energy, even when sleep deprived from all night concerts. And the second: Natural hair color caused her physical pain.

Rhea couldn't tell, but Miko almost appeared to be somewhat disappointed to have found Rhea still human, and not in her large metal form stuffed into the human sized apartment. Rhea shut the door behind them with a sigh, "Well, I'm not dead, so I consider that a win. But what do you mean you 'were supposed to be there?' How did you even know the Cyberforming test was today?"

Miko kicked off her knee-high boots and proceeded to start rummaging through the refrigerator, "I've been borderline stalking Arcee's Comm channel, and she was complaining to Bee about it being sometime this week. Then you three go and vanish for a while. I can pick up context clues." She came back up with her spoils. Rhea's Cheesecake Factory leftovers she had planned on picking at later. "Come on, spill it! Was it a total failure? If so, did you at least rub Shockwave's nose-less face in it? That sociopathic ego of his could benefit from a slice of humble pie."

Rhea sat at the bar that connected the kitchenet to the living room. Miko appeared content eating the rest of Rhea's corn tamales over the sink, so she didn't offer her a seat. "It did work, for maybe a minute or two. I usually just lay in the transfer pod until I fall asleep while Shockwave does who knows what with my head. This time around, I drifted off like normal, but then everything was so different real fast. It felt like I had become, electric? I don't know how to describe it. I open my eyes, and no more transfer pod. There was Soundwave looking down at me. I was in that body, like it was my own. Then it stopped and I woke back up as me. And now it feels like my brain is frying in peanut oil." She really did seem to have the State Fair on her mind.

Miko was entranced, shoveling corn tamales into her face through a grin. "In spite of Arcee's multiyear sabotage campaign, how do you make it permanent?"

"I don't think we know how yet," Rhea admitted with a weak shrug. "At least, Shockwave won't know until we try again. The process would go heaps faster if Shockwave had full authority over the project, which he doesn't. Soundwave is regulating it for my comfort. Shockwave isn't exactly the kind of scientist to take 'comfort' into account."

Miko pondered that. Then she brightened. "What about Autoclave? He's a sciencey type that has a moral compass and a general worry for other's wellbeing."

"We thought of that too," Rhea said, "Starscream nipped that option in the bud and said no. And for once, I don't blame him for being stubborn, considering, the history…" A history that consisted of a rather brutal run in between the two scientists, which resulted in Shockwave permanently damaging Autoclave's voice box.

"And besides the fact Autoclave is Starscream's only friend," Miko snickered.

Rhea leaned into her hand and gave a wry smile, "Now now. Starscream's come a long way over the years. Now he addresses me as 'human' instead of 'vermin.' It's amazing progress in my opinion."

"Our boy Starscream's a gem, isn't he?" Miko hummed, "Did I ever tell ya I once kicked him? Like, in the face, decked out in super armor I stole right out from under him. It's top ten one of the greatest accomplishments of my life." Her gaze went to the ceiling, and she smiled fondly on a far-off memory.

Another knock on the door interrupted the trip down memory lane. Miko beat her to answer it. Standing there was a familiar man in flipflops, shorts and an oversized Hawaiian shirt all despite the January weather. It was the building manager, who stood a few steps back and radiated apprehension. That unease deepened when he shifted his focus from Rhea to Miko. "Um, hello? Are you the girl who, um, just arrived here?"

Miko crossed her arms indignantly, "Yeah, who's asking dude?"

"Building manager," Rhea said on his behalf. She leaned around Miko to better see the man, "Hi Lance."

He waved in acknowledgment, still very unsure of himself, "So, um, I'm sorry, if this is related to something otherworldly…" He pointed behind himself with a trembling finger. "But you opened that green vortex thing right in the common courtyard. One of our elderly residences happened to be there at the time, and she's now having heart palpitations because she thinks it's the rapture."

Rhea released a long-drawn-out sigh. She could be resting on her couch under her soft weighted blanket right now or figuring out why her translator had decided to gain a mind of its own. But fate intended to be cruel today, it would seem.

Miko let out a scoff, "It's called a Groundbridge, buddy. Cybertronain tech? Ya know, the big transforming robot guys? Hasn't the old lady dying in the courtyard watched the news for the past ten years?"

Lance hesitated before saying simply, "I, um, don't think Mrs. Fanzone has a tv."

Miko was taken aback. "Seriously? Now that's weird. We sure she's not an alien too?"

"If you could just, call the management building before teleporting in next time, that would be greatly appreciated." Lance pleaded, gazing wearily over his shoulder again. Rhea could tell, he too didn't think this conversation would be happening to him today. At least she was in good company.

"For all you know the fate of the freaking universe is at stake!" Miko snapped, making Lance jump back another foot. "There's no time to call ahead if the Earth is at risk of literally exploding!"

Rhea pulled Miko back inside by the hood of her jacket. "I'll make sure Lance. Send Mrs. Fanzone my best."

Lance stammered, "But, um, how much longer will it stay-" Miko slammed the door before he could carry on complaining. She dusted off her hands, then turned to catch Rhea's very pointed look. It was a healthy combination of annoyance and disappointment.

Miko shrugged it off. "I'm just saying, it's 2020 and she doesn't have a tv? What about a cellphone? Weird. Does she still churn her freaking butter too?"

Rhea decided to just let this conversation go because it was going nowhere but further into crazy town. She started back for her couches loving embrace. If she just laid down with the good blanket over her head, Miko should get the message and leave.

Unfortunately, Miko followed her so she could continue yapping, "Ya know, I'm actually surprised Shockwave agreed to the whole turning you into a bot thing. Like, have you wondered what he is getting out of it? I bet he's up to something… Who knows what evil he's plotting behind that big glowing eye of his…" This continued conversation didn't bode well for Rhea's couch plan, but she needed to hang her hopes onto something.

Her butt was just touching the couch when her translator pinged. She jumped back up, her body expecting it to scream out again. But this was a normal, not painful ping. It was the sound it made when receiving a Cybertronian transmission that wasn't from Soundwave.

Right, her job as Decepticon Communication's Officer. Soundwave had insisted she divert the job to him for the day, but she hadn't. This was her responsibility, headache or not.

Something she normally found truly fulfilling was now a painful chore. She tapped the translator with a groan. "This is First Decepticon Communication's Officer, please state your designation and current location." She said while attempting to recreate her professional persona. Miko started to ask something, and she held up a finger to silence her. She could not have two conversations go on at once without risking her brain melting.

/Prion!/ the voice shouted into her aching ear. /We're from Prion. Or, landed here anyway… A real scrap heap when we got here, the Autobots somehow made it worse! We need our leaders! Someone preferably tall! On second thought, send all three of 'em! That'll teach the fraggers stepping all over-/

"Who am I speaking with?" She interrupted, in desperate need of context.

/Right, ya asked that. The name's Lord Doomitron! I'm overlord of the fiercest squadron of Autobot slaughtering Cons this side of the galaxy!/

After digesting the caller's ridiculous name, Rhea pulled out her laptop to summon forth his file from the database, along with the colony he named. Lord Doomitron aside, there was no way the colony world he mentioned was the one her mind jumped to. Prion was an infamous world that somehow escaped the Rust Plague to then only be devastated by a series of other cosmic level disasters, ending in the near extinction of the local Cybertronian population by an alien genocide. Once she triangulated Lord Doomitron's coordinates, it became clear this was the exact world she was thinking about.

Miko leaned over her shoulder to look at the files, only to stifle a laugh at the Con's profile. In spite of his name, the Decepticon was a short and stout Minicon, like an angry teapot. Laserbeak outclassed him in size three times over, and Rhea could pat him on the head with ease. The tiny spitfire of a Con did indeed lead a Minicon squadron of explorers sent out five years back. They seldom reported in.

"Oh my God, Bulkhead would step on that guy and not even notice." Miko said with a wicked grin.

Ignoring that commentary, Rhea continued, "Um, ok Lord Doomitron. What emergency is there that requires all three Decepticon Lords to be dispatched at once? We have representatives for different levels of-"

/Damn Autobots crawling all over our planet!/ His lordship snapped. /We landed here a full ten kliks before they did, so the relic is ours! They're trying to steal it right out from under us! We already had three separate fire fights!/

Rhea winced at the update. When it came to the still missing Cybertronian relics once sought after during the war, it was decided that both parties would have equal parts in retrieving said item, documenting it, and then archiving it back on a neutral site on Cybertron to avoid fighting over it. This was a big enough sticking point that it was amended into their peace treaty after there were a few good spats between the two groups over relics and which belonged to who. And outright 'fire fights' over said relics was an absolute deal breaker in the peace treaty department.

"Alright, so first, stop all open hostility with the Autobot faction until we can dispatch a group to your location," Rhea growled.

/They started it!/ Lord Doomitron hissed. /They already made a fool out of my men and I intend to return the favor! We'll fight down to the last Con!/

"Please don't." Rhea snapped, already patching the info to Sharpshot. Soundwave was probably still preoccupied with his own Autobot drama. "It's in direct violation with Amendment four of the World's Peace Treaty. Any fighting could result in damage to our hard achieved progress."

/What amendment is that?/ Lord Doomitron demanded. /Don't remember that one! Apparently the Autobots didn't either! This is outside the normal treaty! I'm ready to finish the war they started! I just need our Lords here so they can witness our glorious victory over the Autobot scum!/

"Please stand by. We'll send a team out within the cycle."

/No!/ Doomitron shouted. Rhea winced away from the yapping voice in her ear. /All of our Lords are required! This is a Code Black scenario!/

Rhea hesitated, now taken totally off guard. "Code Black? That is the highest priority emergency. Are you sure?"

/I'd lay my Spark on it!/

"Alright… The lords will be there as soon as they can." she hung up, gave her couch one final longing glance, and then started packing her laptop into her go bag.

"Another Colony spat?" Miko guessed.

"One which is about to go to hell if we don't do something." She grumbled. "He said it was a Code Black level threat."

"That thing that almost killed Magnus and nearly broke the treaty a few years back?" Miko recalled. She also seemed far from convinced this was an equivalent scenario. Rhea happened to agree with her, but if it was, and they didn't take it seriously, it could be catastrophic. Though it was ironic Lord Doomitron remembered the meaning behind Code Black and not the fourth amendment of the Treaty. Kind of convenient, but mostly only for him.

"That's what he said. I guess we'll find out soon. They're fighting over a relic this time. It must be a doozy of a relic if it's this big a deal."

"Who got there first?" Miko asked.

Rhea gave her friend yet another irritated look. "Technically, the Decepticons did. But that's from Mr. Doom's perspective, so who knows if that's accurate. Also, this isn't middle school. Calling 'dibs' on an ancient alien weapon of unknown origins is hardly how we do things. Thankfully."

Miko chuckled. "Why not? Makes life more fun… Oh! Doomsday's call, or whatever tiny's name was, reminded me! Do you remember that time about ten years ago when that prison ship full of Con's crashed on Earth, and the poor Rescue Bot's had to clean them all up without the Government noticing? And then they found that creepy transmission that was responsible for crashing the ship in the first place, and it talked about ancient cosmic horrors?"

Rhea stopped packing in favor of looking up in surprise. "Have they figured out where the transmission came from finally?" she asked, extremely hopeful.

"Nope." Miko reported with a shrug. "Raf was just going through old logs today and came across it, or something like it. I don't know exactly; I wasn't really listening. But that was weird, right?"

With her hopes thoroughly trounced, Rhea shouldered her bag and headed for the door. "I'm going to report this colony problem to Soundwave in person. My translator may or may not be on the frits, and it's been radio silence from his side for too long. I need to make sure Arcee hasn't rekindled the war herself by slugging one of the Decepticon Lords in the face." It was far from the first time she had punched Soundwave in the face, so it wasn't an impossible scenario.

She pulled up Ratchet in her phone, starting to text him to send a Bridge to pick them up. Miko shadowed her down the hall for the door, taking the rest of her leftovers to go. "No worries, I left Bulkhead there to referee. And we don't need to call Ratchet for a Bridge. We'll just use the one I activated to get back."

Rhea froze, her hand gripping the doorknob. "You never closed the Bridge in the courtyard?" And at once, it became apparent why her building manager Lance was in such a state of panic.

When she flung open the door, she could clearly hear the frantic cries of her elderly neighbor a few floors down. "Lord Jesus! I see the light! I'm ready to come home!"

Rhea leaned over the railing and spotted the elderly woman. She had a bag packed and her equally ancient Chihuahua thrown under her other arm, headed for the Groundbridge with only Lance there to hold her back.

"Yeah, I usually do close it... I didn't think I would be gone this long." Miko admitted with a shrug.

Rhea sighed, stealing herself for the rest of this comedically catastrophic day. Then she hurried down to the courtyard, "Mrs. Fanzone, it's not Jesus! It's just alien technology!"

Date: Present Day, September 20th, 2021 Late Morning

Steven

He arrived at work late. That was enough to alert the building's administrative staff something was off. And if they hadn't before, seeing his face was enough. He hurried past their worried looks and carried on to security, flashing his badge to bypass it. People were saluting him, but he didn't really see them. He arrived at his superior officer's office and gave the door three curt knocks.

Steven almost didn't wait for the "Come in," before barging in. Brigadier General Bragg was already at work, scowling down at whatever he was signing. "Never thought I'd live to see the day the uptight Colonel Welker came in late," he glanced up, and his smug smile fell instantly, "Holy hell, Steven, you look like shit."

Ignoring that comment, Steven walked up to the desk. "I need access to the base's ingoing and outgoing security tapes." Technically he already had clearance to look at the security tapes, but doing anything without getting the higher ups ok was a nightmare.

Bragg's sideways look only turned further askew, "Do I even want to know why?"

"Rhea is missing." Steven said. Admitting those words out loud hurt him like an armor piercing shell hitting him between the shoulder blades.

Bragg blinked at him, "Your nerdy girlfriend?"

For the sake of getting to the point, Steven let that comment slip too. "I already asked our neighbors, and the airmen at the gate. No one has seen her since last night. That was the last time I saw her too."

"Have a fight?" Bragg assumed.

"No," Steven growled, his already thin patience waning.

"I'm just saying. When my wife is pissed at me, she goes for a jog without saying anything."

"We didn't fight. And I doubt she would have gone out in the middle of the night without her shoes or house keys." Steven said.

That detail finally seemed to motivate Bragg to see the seriousness of what he was facing. He motioned for Steven to come around his desk. He did so and waited as Bragg pulled up the security feed on his own computer. He picked the camera that would be facing Steven and Rhea's small military housing along with the others on their block. He rewound the feed to the night before and stopped as their car pulled into the driveway around eight. It was after they had come back from dinner and picked up a few things from the store.

Steven watched the screen longingly as Rhea stepped out of the passenger side door with a bag in hand. He struggled to make out her beautiful features through the subpar quality of the security feed. A rich bronze complexion framed with tight curls of raven black hair. She was planning on straightening it that weekend… It was a process that took time whenever she decided to tackle it. However she wore it, he looked forward to the process. He would sit with her in the bathroom as she faced the mirror and ironed her hair. They used any reason to talk. He missed her caramel soft voice so much.

The image of her laughed at the stupid thing he had joked about as his own image exited the driver's side. They walked into the house together, and the lights within flicked on before the door shut. Bragg wordlessly fast-forwarded the film, the house unchanging until eleven at night when the lights extinguished. The still image continued to drag on, only the racing clock in the bottom corner giving any indication time was passing.

As dawn was just breaking something finally changed, but it wasn't Rhea emerging from the front door in any kind of distress. The Image of Steven came out hurriedly. He crossed the lawn and knocked on the door of his neighbor. Then he tried the other house when those inside only shook their heads. Steven watched himself standing in his driveway, calling Rhea's number again. He tried a few other houses before he got into the car and drove off screen.

Bragg switched off the tape. His older face was more confused than worried now. "She's got to be in the house still." He figured.

"She's not. I checked everywhere." And he absolutely meant that literally because he even checked under their bed and the little cabinet under the kitchen sink.

Bragg's face pursed as he thought. "I mean, there is a small blind spot for the camera in the back. She could have gone out that way…"

"Why would she have done that though?" Steven was absolutely unconvinced by this theory.

Bragg looked a bit uncomfortable, hesitating before answering, "Think she may have left ya?"

"Absolutely not," Steven assured him with a glare.

Bragg shrugged. "I mean this lovingly Steven, but you are a wet blanket of a man. When you somehow snagged that young girl a decade ago, I almost had a stroke from the shock. She's what, not even thirty? She's in the prime of her life and you're headed for retirement… The reality of that may have just hit her."

Now Steven was in real danger of punching his superior officer and retiring much earlier than he planned. Probably sensing this, Bragg softened the previous statement quickly, "But what the hell do I know? Go back home and keep looking. I'll approve the time off."

His original anger waned into genuine surprise, "Thank you sir."

Bragg only shrugged again, "Last thing we need is you crashing a million-dollar drone because of heartache."

Steven flicked the flashlight beam around the small attic. He only saw dust wafting over Christmas boxes and old books. This was a longshot, but the attic was the literal last place in the house he could look. He had turned the whole place over until it was a disaster area. There was no sign of her.

"Anything?" Rhea's friend Jen called up. She was one of many of their associates now in on the search.

"No," Steven groaned. He started crawling back towards the opening in the ceiling. He was greeted with natural light and Jen staring up at him at the bottom of the latter, arms folded over her pregnant stomach. Her sweep of the house after his own must have come up empty too, seeing as Rhea wasn't standing there beside her.

"James just got back to me. Nothing at our house either." She dialed her phone as he descended the latter. She was calling Rhea's number again. "Girl, you need to pick up. Steven's about to lose his mind and now you got me worried too." She told the answering machine.

Steven folded the latter back into the ceiling and closing off the attic. "She didn't say anything to you about leaving?" he asked morosely. Steven scoffed when Bragg suggested Rhea would have walked out on him, but now, five hours later and multiple people in on the search, he was starting to entertain any logical explanation.

"Nothing at all," Jen promised. Though her face somewhat soured before adding, "But I always thought you were dragging your feet on proposing to our girl. I know Rhea never cared about that kind of thing, but I personally would have left if James took eleven years to finally get around to ask me to tie the knot."

Now that was two people assuming Rhea had ditched him. It hurt, but he knew better, even past his own doubt. He knew Rhea. She would have said something if she were unhappy. And she absolutely wouldn't have left her beloved laptop behind.

He got a text. He snatched the phone from his pocket, heart holding out the hope it was Reha as he had each time it buzzed. He was disappointed again like every other time. It was from his other neighbor who were one of many in the search. 'Not at the café. They haven't seen her since yesterday when she was with you.' They reported.

He should have been used to the disappointment in his gut by now, but it still pulled him down. It was the last place inside the military complex she could have been. He hurried to the door, Jen on his heels. "Where are you going to look now?"

"I'm not looking anymore. I'm going to file a report with the base police."

The drive over was a blur. He scanned every face as he drove by, trying to pick Rhea's smile from the crowd. The spacious military complex made his mind race, thinking of all the places she could be. All the places she hadn't been so far. He proceeded to have the same conversation with the base police which he had with almost every person that day. No, Rhea did not leave him. Yes, she is an adult and could walk out if she wanted. But she didn't take the car, or her shoes, or her computer. She doesn't leave the house without that computer! Do you think she levitated out of the damn house? It felt like he was repeatedly slamming his head against a brick wall.

The only new tidbit of info he gained was from the guards at the gate. Rhea hadn't used her key code to leave. Unless she snuck past the blind spot in the security camera, dodged every other camera along the way, bypassed base security and then climbed over ten-foot barbed wire fencing without shoes, there was no explanation for her disappearance. The same could be said for someone taking her. The cameras or base security would have caught something. Anything.

The next thing his foggy mind knew, he was sitting in one of the base police back offices, filing an official missing person's report. He gave them a picture of her from his phone so they could start making posters and distributing them to other stations nearby. Steven shuttered at the very thought of seeing her beautiful face adorning missing posters, but this was his reality.

He exhausted the base, and then the town beyond. All that was left for him to do was go home. But Rhea wasn't at home, so he went back to his office. He signed back in. He ignored the pitying looks the administrative staff gave him.

Everybody knew now, but nobody could help. He had to go back into the police station the next day to answer more questions. He already assumed what angle they would be investigating this from. They needed to make sure Steven hadn't killed Rhea and stuffed her body somewhere out of sight from the base cameras. He had already given them full access to his house, car, phone, and everything else. He had nothing to hide other than his own growing panic.

But for now, he arrived in the engineering wing. One of his team's experimental drones was his focus. He filed the proper paperwork for a test flight and activated it. Seated behind a screen, he watched the base fly by. He utilized the drone's face recognition software he had developed to scan every person from afar. Rhea was not among them.

Bragg appeared, startling him from his search over the city. Bragg told him it was twelve midnight and he should go home. He brought the drone back, docked it, filed paperwork for another hour to procrastinate and then stumbled out. He and maintenance were the only ones left. They even looked worried.

Steven shut off the ignition, silencing the car in his driveway. Then he sat in silence and staired through the windshield at the dark shell of his house. He didn't want to go back inside knowing how empty it was. He procrastinated again, checking his phone for updates. Maybe Rhea had texted. There was only a text from Jen asking how he was holding up. He didn't answer.

With limbs feeling weighed down with lead, he stepped from the car. He approached the house like it was rigged to blow. It was like the lock was set to stereo as he flicked the key into the mechanism. It opened without a creek. He had sprayed the hinges because the sound hurt Rhea's sensitivity issue.

"Rhea?" He called into the darkness despite knowing better. Nothing answered. With a defeated sigh, he closed the door behind him and flicked on the light. He didn't lock it like normal. Just in case Rhea came home during the night. If it wasn't for the slim chance Rhea would return to the house, Steven wouldn't have come home at all. He would have stayed in the office and slept at his workstation. The whole world, including his house, felt wrong on a subatomic level.

He passed through the kitchen like a ghost. He only stopped because he remembered he hadn't eaten all day. He should probably do that, so he didn't pass out. He was no good to Rhea comatose on the floor. He opened the fridge, and then just stared into the cold box for a few minutes without moving. There was meat marinating on the bottom shelf. Rhea had planned on cooking that today. He could try, but cooking wasn't exactly his strong suit. He didn't have the energy to try his hand at new skills tonight. After holding the door open long enough for the fridge to bring the kitchen's temperature down a few degrees, he pulled out his restaurant leftovers from the night before. He didn't touch Rhea's box. She would eat it, when she got back.

Still in uniform, he sat hard at the kitchen table. He took small, mechanical bites of the cold steak while looking at Rhea's closed laptop, exactly where she left it twenty-four hours ago. He should look inside it. See if there were any clues to her whereabouts. He couldn't bring himself to do it. That was her safe space. He would feel like even more of an intruder than he already did. Plus, the cops would be searching its contents tomorrow anyway. A bunch of strangers pawing through Rhea's stuff was bad enough. He left it lay until then. He assumed if she left any clues, she would have made it more obvious.

When he didn't feel like eating any longer, he returned the few bites of food to the fridge. The thought of sleeping was preposterous. Though the nightmares from the night before would be long gone from his mind, he assumed new nightmares speculating about Rhea's fate would plague him. He couldn't handle that. Instead, he went around the house and cleaned up the frantic mess he and Jen had made when looking in every closet and cupboard. He didn't think it took nearly long enough to keep him preoccupied, but when he checked the time, it was three in the morning.

He had to at least attempt to sleep. Bragg gave him off for the next few days, but he didn't intend to take advantage of that. When he wasn't looking for Rhea, he planned on throwing himself into his work. It was the only reliable way of keeping his mind busy.

He unholstered his M9 pistol from his gun belt and arrived in front of the safe in the corner of his and Rhea's bedroom. He thoughtlessly started typing in his code. Tomorrow will be better. She would come home and explain what in the world had happened. They would laugh this off over a few glasses of wine.

The keypad beeped its refusal at him, blinking red. Steven stared at the device as if the vault had reached out and slapped him across the face. He tried again, this time slowly and purposefully. It flashed red again with its mocking X on the little screen.

No. Not once in his whole life had he EVER forgotten a password, especially the one to his gun safe. No amount of stress or sleep deprivation would keep his sharp mind from slipping that badly. He continued to type in the code despite its stubborn refusal to yield.

Steven slammed his palm into the face of the safe with a snarl. This was it. The final crack in the dam before it burst. A whole day of fighting off his anxiety and fear smothered him, and it all morphed into rage. He thumped his fist into the safe face until his knuckles throbbed. The burst of adrenaline didn't last long. His outburst didn't gain him anything useful. It didn't help his fury. It didn't bring Rhea back or get him into his safe. The only thing he got was maybe a fractured knuckle.

He felt as empty as the house, drained of all energy, not even enough to keep himself upright. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead heavy into the safe. 'Keep it together… Calm down.' He chanted those words over and over in his brain like his life depended on it. He was supposed to be levelheaded. It brought just enough willpower back to at least face the world again and open his eyes.

And it was a good thing he did, otherwise he would have missed the note half slipped under the safe.

Steven stumbled over to grab it. Was it a note from Rhea? Statistically, it was probably just a document that slipped from the safe the last time he opened it. He held out hope regardless and he unfolded it.

It was neither a safe document nor an explanation written by Rhea. In fact, the simple words on the blank white paper were scribbled out quickly. He hadn't written this, but he recognized his own penmanship.

His confusion slowly morphed into uncertain horror as he read and then re-read his words he didn't remember writing.

'You are not safe. They are trying to get to you. You must fight them back with everything you have.'