"Ready the Talon for launch," he snarled, his voice cold and unyielding. "We're leaving this wasteland."

"But, sir, the Maximals are retreating!" Maelstrom, his second-in-command, protested, his optics flickering with concern.

"Let them scurry away like rats," Traxion retorted, a cruel grin spreading across his face. "The scouts will find them quickly."

Deep beneath the surface, the Maximals scrambled through the labyrinthine tunnels that wound beneath the ravaged city. The walls shook with the rumbles of explosions from above, while the air reeked of dust and dread.

"What's the plan, Commander?" the small and agile scout, Echo, asked as her wide yellow optics searched Axium's for any sign of reassurance.

But before Axium could answer, the brash and bristling-with-fury Koba cut in. "We track those Predacon scum down and tear them apart, once and for all!"

"No, Koba," Axium snapped, his tone as sharp as a blade. "We're outmanned and outgunned. Our only chance is to get to the hangar and escape this planet."

At this, Koba's rage flared, his fists clenching. "Coward! We owe it to Solaris to avenge-

"Enough!" Axium's voice boomed, silencing the argument. "We go to the hangar, and that is an order. We have no time for revenge."

The tension that flashed between the two Maximals was electric, their words flaring like live wires. Aether clutched her data drive close, watching with growing apprehension. The information she carried was simply too important, and were it ever to fall into Predacon's hands, the balance would irrecoverably turn against them.

Echo stepped forward, her voice soft yet urgent. "Commander Axium… please, we have to move now." The sound of Predacon engines roaring closer and the steady rhythm of explosions above them were moving nearer.

Axium nodded curtly. "You're right, Echo. Form up! We make for the hangar.

Grumbling, Koba fell in line. The pain of Solaris's death still simmered under his metal plating, but even he could not deny the correctness of Axium's assertion. They were in no shape to fight another battle here.

Above ground, Traxion prowled the deck of the Talon's Claw. His circuits hummed with impatience. "Maelstrom! I want a status update! Where are my troops?"

Maelstrom approached, holding a datapad. "Sir, our forces are spread thin. The assault took its toll, and we've lost several squads to the skirmishes with the Maximals."

"Slag!" Traxion boomed, optics ablaze as he scanned the surviving soldiers remaining on deck. There was Maelstrom, the quick energetic scout Spitflyer, the fumbling Thump, and one he didn't know—a bot with shaking hands, a mask concealing his face, and a chest bearing a freshly applied predacon badge.

"You there!" Traxion barked, pointing at the stranger. "What's your name?"

The masked bot hesitated for a moment before rasping out, "I am Garnix."

"Fine, Garnix," Traxion growled. "You're with us now. Load up the ship—we're leaving this scrap heap."

Meanwhile, beneath the surface, the Maximals pressed onward through the dim, claustrophobic tunnels. The faint hum of their ship, the Hyperion, readying for takeoff echoed in the distance, offering a fleeting glimmer of hope.

"Commander, the ship's engines are powering up," Aether said, her voice tinged with urgency. "But if Traxion intercepts us, we're done for."

Axium's expression was steely as he turned to Echo. "How much farther?"

"Two more junctions, then straight to the hangar," Echo replied, slipping ahead to guide the way.

The team-Axium, Koba, Aether, Echo, and the brilliant eccentric scholar Wisewing-filed down darkened corridors. Koba's fingers flexed in favor of combat, his sharp claws bursting forth, but he kept silent, Axium's orders hanging heavy. He shot a wary glance at Wisewing, talking to himself, his optics flashing with manic curiosity.

"Get those engines primed, Wisewing!" Aether shouted when they reached the hangar.

Hhehehahah! I hear you, fledgling, I hear you!" Wisewing cackled in his sing-song voice, his claws dancing over the control panel.

Echo leaned in close to Koba. "Is he…. alright?"

Koba snorted. "Alright? He's more scrambled than a Sharkticon's breakfast.".

Finally, Hyperion roared to life, it's engines sputtering before roaring to a blast of energy. The Maximals scrambled aboard, and the hangar doors now began peeling open, showing the war-torn sky beyond. They were safe, or so they thought