"(Cousin, do you remember our grandfather?)"
Uzi's earlier outburst still burned at the edges of her thoughts, but Doll's seemingly random question pulled her out of rage-filled fantasies. Especially when it was about…him.
"Our grandfather?" she asked, her tone edged with confusion but lacking its usual bite as she would turn her head to look at Doll. "Yeah, I remember him…"
There was a pause, as Uzi would be taken off guard by the sudden reclamation of hazy and fragmented memories. She did know who Doll was referring to though. Back when they were sparklings, barely old enough to grasp the world around them, Yeva—Doll's mother and Uzi's aunt—would tell them stories about her mentor. A bot neither of them would ever meet, yet someone Yeva spoke of with a kind of wistful reverence, as he was the one to 'change their lives for the better'.
"Primus, we haven't talked about him in years," Uzi said hesitantly. To say they knew next to nothing about the man was an understatement. All they knew was that he had been a scientist. A man who believed that everything had a logical explanation. Someone so dedicated to his research, poured so much effort and time into the betterment of Cybertron, that Nori—Uzi's mother—would jokingly bestow upon him a title:
'Guardian of Cybertron '
But beyond that little factoid, the bot was a complete enigma. As Doll and Uzi grew up, Yeva would always deflect questions about the man. Even his name was shrouded in mystery. She often promised that one day she would tell them everything about him when they were old enough. But that day would never come... for reasons that were painfully obvious. "What are you bringing him up for?" Uzi asked, raising a brow in confusion. "Feeling nostalgic all of a sudden?"
"(In a way,)" Doll replied, her gaze drifting back towards the viewport. Uzi watched as her cousin's optics grew distant, as if she was seemingly lost in thought for a moment. "(I…I enjoy remembering such tales. They remind me of better times.)"
Uzi looked away, discomfort prickling at her as Doll mentioned such things. Reflecting on the loss of family members was always painful—especially when it brought them back to the night that Doll came back to the colony after a short venture to the surface. Scared and trembling, she was found dragging her parents' lifeless frames. She begged and pleaded to put them into the CR chamber but it had already been far too late. Their sparks had burned away into nothing long before they were brought back to the colony.
They had been killed by an 'Angel of Death', a murder drone…an autobot—and yet Doll was spared. Allowed to live and return to her colony. The murderer would tell Doll why it needed to be done. She said that "examples needed to be made". To this day, no one in the colony knew what such a phrase even meant. But, it was not as if anyone was in a rush to bother asking for such an explanation. Not like any of those 'angels' were willing to talk.
Doll was never the same after what happened. She became quieter, more reserved, and she refused to speak in anything but in her father's native tongue. Sometimes, Uzi wondered if Doll blamed herself for what had happened. She was told it was Doll's dreams—rather her nightmares—that had driven her and her parents to leave the Colony in search for answers. They were nightmares of an... evil moon with horns, if Uzi remembered right.
Though it had been years since they last talked about those things. She just knew that when Aunt Yeva spoke about it, she seemed... scared.
"(You remind me of our grandfather.)"
The comment landed like a sudden jab to the face, making Uzi jerk her head back in surprise as she was baffled by the comparison. It must have shown on her expression as when Doll looked at her, she smiled and chose to elaborate. "(Mother once called him a force of nature. A drone with goals that stretched far beyond anyone's comprehension. Beyond the colony, and beyond even the war. Someone who was always working, always attempting something new. She said that he was one of the greatest minds of Cybertron and, without question, I could say something similar of yourself.)"
Uzi felt a stutter as a blush load upon her visor. "Oh, well, I wouldn't go that far. We haven't exactly seen all of it—"
"(You are only two decades old and have already mastered the Cortical Psychic Patch—so well, in fact, that you used it to hack into a fellow student.)" Uzi opened her mouth to retort, but thought better of it. Sure, she only did it because a classmate had been annoying, but there was no denying that she had done it. "(You also rediscovered a form of transformation thought lost during the war. On your own, with minimal resources.)"
"Well, it must've been good," Uzi scoffed while shaking her head. "Even Lizzy is using it. Though, honestly, I'm shocked she could even read my blueprints."
"(Let's say she may have had help from someone… familiar with your handwriting.)" Doll's smile turned sly, much to Uzi's annoyance.
"Oh, I freaking knew it."
Suddenly, Doll's smile dropped as she looked back out the viewport. "(But that is not the only reason I compare you to grandfather.)" Uzi crossed her arms and leaned against the wall as she listened.
"(Mother told me that grandfather was…strange. That he was stoic by nature, and unable to express himself like most others drones could. But there was one thing about him that was undeniable: he was emotional.
He would lock himself in his lab cycle after cycle, endlessly experimenting and refining, always thinking—while seemingly apathetic for the outside world, and yet always…working towards its betterment.
Whenever something went wrong with one of his projects—even if it wasn't his fault—he would always take it personally. Somehow, he'd find a way to blame himself, as if it was his sole responsibility to fix everything.
He was also incredibly stubborn. Once he set his mind on something with even the slightest chance of success, he wouldn't stop until either he faced the impossible and conquered it.
Sound familiar?)"
Uzi's optics narrowed once more at the hidden accusation. "What exactly are you trying to get at, Doll? First, you're calling me a genius, and now you're saying what? That I'm a stubborn, big softy? You know how much I hate people!" Uzi jabbed a finger in the direction of Thad and Lizzy, who were deep in their own antics. "I barely tolerate those two as it is—"
"(Enough with the angsty act.)" Doll cut through Uzi's protest, laced with a quiet annoyance. "(You can pretend all you like that the idea of social interactions are an anathema to you, but we both know the truth. You're grateful we're here with you, that you weren't force to go through… all of this alone.)"
Doll turned fully to face Uzi, the moonlight streaming through the viewport catching the edges of her frame. It somehow glinted faintly off the Decepticon symbol on her chest, making it stand out more.
Uzi's gaze flicked to it, just for an instant—enough to feel the familiar ache in her circuits. She didn't want to admit it. Couldn't admit it. But there was something about seeing someone in her family wear that symbol...something that felt almost right. Almost comforting.
She was so used to being the only person in the entire colony to wear such a thing.
"(I also know this about you,)" Doll continued, unwavering in her speech. "(Deep within your spark—no matter how much you enjoy playing at being different in the eyes of others or 'evil'—if you harmed someone that you believe didn't deserve it, it tears at you. It eats away at you.)"
Uzi froze, caught off guard by the precision of Doll's words.
"(Take your outburst earlier, for instance. You blame yourself for the Vehicons that Overlord killed, as if their deaths were solely your doing. As if your actions alone caused the massacre.)"
"No, it is my fault," Uzi shot back, immediately, almost daring Doll to argue. "I killed Impactor. I'm the reason Overlord went on that rampage, hunting down anyone he thought might've been involved. If I hadn't—"
"(If you hadn't, what? Killed an already dying man.)" Doll interrupted with a roll of her optics. "(Who knows what might have happened if you didn't. Impactor was already damaged from the firefight. You saw him. Thanks to Thad and me, he was barely functional. It's possible he would have died from his injuries if we'd left him alone. You may have struck the killing blow, but let's not pretend you were the only factor in his demise.)"
Her voice softened, just slightly. "(And if you hadn't admitted to it, do you think Overlord would have stopped when he was confronted by the Combaticons? Please. He already knew we had some connection to what happened. You only took the burden onto yourself when you admitted such a deed to his face, and I think you knew that.)"
Uzi turned away from her cousin, her gaze falling to the floor, but not before a flicker of doubt flashed across her visor. While Doll's reasoning made sense on a surface level, it didn't make the weight any easier to bear. It didn't fit right.
"...Doll, I…."
Doll raised a finger, as if she were proposing something else.
"(Let's say you never killed Impactor. Perhaps, he might have survived long enough to call for reinforcements. His allies would have tracked us down and killed us while we were on our way to Kaon. Or say, we kept him, he was our prisoner, how well that would have gone, I wonder?)"
She shrugged, her nonchalance almost to an insulting degree. "(The scenarios are endless, cousin. Who can say for certain of anything? The point is this: yes, your actions had consequences. But do you truly believe all of it—the Vehicons, Overlord, the energon-bloodshed that followed—is entirely your fault? Or is this just another manifestation of your ever-expanding god complex that I wasn't aware of?)"
Uzi scoffed, a sharp, dismissive sound meant to shut down their mild arguement. But Doll didn't miss the way her cousin's arms crossed tightly over her chest or how her gaze began to drift around as if searching for an escape route. It was an unmistakable sign: Uzi was retreating, putting up her walls. If Doll pressed her too hard now, there was a good chance Uzi would shift into her alt. mode and mutter something absurd like, "Guns don't talk," just to derail the topic entirely.
Still, Doll wasn't ready to let her off the hook.
"(Cousin, I asked you a question.)"
The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the hum of the dropship's old engines and the static tension of words left unsaid. Finally, Uzi broke it, her voice low but firm. "…We can agree on one thing. My actions had consequences."
She turned slowly to face Doll, defiance flickering in her optics. But beneath it, her emotions churned—anger, guilt, and something far harder to define. "I get what you're trying to do. It's not like I don't appreciate it or anything, but… I'm just being logical about it. At the end of the day, I'm the one who stomped his shocking head in. And because of that…"
Her words trailed off into a bitter shake of her head, a weak attempt at simply stopping the argument. Doll let out a very annoyed sigh in response as she ran her hand over her visor.
With the conversation practically 'dead as Impactor', they both turned their gaze to the vast, ruined skies beyond the viewport, the muted grays and swirling clouds a reflection of the dead planet below.
In the glass, faint reflections lingered: Thad and Lizzy seated behind them, the front of the dropship's cabin barely visible. The two were posing for selfies.
"( Logical ,)" Doll repeated, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she looked at the reflections of their fellow colony drones. "(Our grandfather's favorite word.)"
Uzi chuckled despite herself. "Yeah. Guess it runs in the family."
Doll's smile lingered as she glanced at Uzi. "(I know our talks don't usually last this long. But bear with me a moment longer. There's one last thing I want to talk about concerning our grandfather.)"
Uzi dramatically groaned. "Fiiine. Go ahead, but I don't know what else is left to say..." As she spoke, her gaze drifted out toward the clouds again. For just a moment, she thought she saw something—a shadow, winged and graceful, cutting through the murk. The figure vanished almost as quickly as it appeared, leaving her to wonder if she'd imagined it. Before she could dwell on it, Doll's voice pulled her attention back.
"(Do you remember the last thing he told our mothers? His final order to them?)"
The weight of those words settled over Uzi like a thick, suffocating blanket. She knew the story too well, she had it etched into her memory since the first night it was told to her. It was a tale that kept her staring at the ceiling during many countless restless nights.
Her mother. Aunt Yeva. Their grandfather.
All of them had been at ground zero, deep within the planet's core, as it began to collapse. They bore witness to the meltdown that wiped every trace of organic life from the planet's surface. And while Uzi had replayed the story countless times in her mind, there was always one haunting detail she could never shake.
Aunt Yeva never revealed who caused the meltdown. Was it a drone? An Autobot? A Decepticon? The truth had died with the three witnesses who might have known, leaving behind only questions that had lingered like ghosts. One of the biggest mysteries of the Great War, practically what had started it, was buried with those three.
But Uzi knew that wasn't what Doll wanted her to remember.
"Yeah, I remember," Uzi said quietly. Her voice lacked its usual edge as her words came slower, as if weighed down by the memory. "While our moms were able to get away, he stayed behind. Tried to mitigate the damage as much as he could before the core ruptured the entire planet."
In the viewport's reflection, Uzi caught the subtle dimming of Doll's optics. A brief flicker of emotion she clearly didn't want to show. "He just told them a single word…" Uzi paused for dramatic effect. "'Live.'"
Doll turned toward her, offering a faint, bittersweet smile. It was a gesture of understanding, of shared pain, but Uzi couldn't bring herself to return it. Her thoughts were already elsewhere, drawn unbidden to her own mother—a woman she'd never known, because she was killed by ' murderous war machines' as her father would always put it.
Her remains were likely still scattered among the Spire back in Kalis. The thought hit Uzi like it always did: a dull, gnawing ache she could never quite shake. Even after all these years, knowing her mother was gone, that ache lingered—an absence that had shaped so much of who she was.
Her hatred for the Autobots. Her worship of the heroic Decepticons.
She put all her energy into learning what she could of the war because of such a thing. Her way of dealing with the lost—her coping mechanism. She at least took solace in that it was a much healthier alternative compared to her dad's way of dealing with it. He just became obsessed with doors. Then again, considering he could transform into a switch, maybe that had always been there.
Doll, thankfully, pulled her mind back in focus.
"(Yes, he told them to… live.)" Doll's voice carried a weight that made Uzi a little concerned. She could almost feel the effort her cousin was putting into keeping her composure. "(The irony of such a request and what became of our mothers doesn't escape me. Which is why I believe we must heed it—and live in their stead.)"
Uzi let out a sharp, almost smug laugh, throwing her head back. "Is that it? You think I've got a death wish or something—"
A firm hand grabs Uzi by the shoulder, halting her mid-sentence
"(Please,)" Doll once more sighed. "(You're all I have left. Please.)"
Uzi wanted to try and reassure Doll. She wanted to tell her that she had no plans of dying anytime soon—that she still had too much to prove, too many victories to claim, too many faces to rub said victories in. But she knew that wasn't what her cousin wanted—or needed—to hear.
Reluctantly, she relented.
"Okay… I'll try to be more careful from now on. But you've got to promise me the same thing, got it?" Uzi's teasing grin broke through as she lightly nudged Doll's shoulder. "You can't go dying on me, either. Otherwise, I'll be stuck listening to Lizzy complain about it nonstop."
Doll's stern expression softened, and she rolled her optics at such a mental image. "(Oh, she'd turn it into a personal drama for the ages. I can already see her dragging the entire colony to my funeral. Poor Thad would probably be forced to set up the decorations.)"
"It'd be just like that 'Sweet 16' disaster she planned… Maybe there'd even be another ritual sacrifice."
"(Still bitter you weren't the one they offered up?)"
"Oh, bite me—"
Before Uzi could finish her retort, Lizzy's unmistakable voice cut through the moment. "Hey! Lame-o and Sharlotka! Hate to break up your little family therapy session, but Neg finally got the comm system working!"
"It's Negatron," came a flat, bitter correction from somewhere near the floor.
"And I should care, why?" Lizzy replied, completely unfazed.
Uzi groaned and dragged a hand over her visor in mock exasperation while Doll chuckled quietly, her shoulders shaking with restrained laughter. Together, they turned toward the source of the interruption. At the front of the cabin, near the cockpit of the dropship, they saw Lizzy and Thad watching a flickering screen as it struggled to establish a signal.
The drone that had worked on it, Negatron, seated cross-legged on the floor nearby, wiped his visor with his forearm, his expression radiating casual disinterest and annoyance. He didn't even glance up, as if willing the signal to sort itself out without any further input.
Thad was cheerful as Uzi and Doll walked up to join the rest of them. "We're finally gonna meet this—uh…" He began only to stop himself, his face scrunching up as he recalled the peculiar 'dirty name' of the acting Decepticon leader. "Mr. Wave-guy?" he finished, shrugging with an awkward grin.
Lizzy looked offended by such a thing as she struck her hands on her hips in mock impatience. "No, his name is Shockwave and we are definitely calling him that. There's no way I'm letting you butcher it like that" She leaned slightly closer to Thad, her tone turning playful. "I mean, he seriously calls himself that. Like, who does that? I have to ask him about it to his face."
"What face?" Negatron interjected dryly, his tone tinged with mockery.
Lizzy blinked, momentarily thrown off by the bizarre comment. "What do you—?" she started, but before she could finish, Uzi immediately made a beeline for the communication console, her optics narrowing as she inspected the mess of wires and connections.
"Ugh," she recoiled, her voice oozing disgust. "What are these anterior conductors even doing here? No wonder the signal's garbage! You're supposed to use something like ionized carbide ! At least that would boost the power output instead of piggybacking off this primitive—"
"Can you teenagers please stop criticizing my shiny metal—" Negatron snapped, swiveling toward her, his irritation clear.
Before he could finish, and just as Uzi looked ready to fire back with her own retort, the screen flickered to life. The static dissolved into a faint, rhythmic signal, and a deep, clinical voice—precise and calculated, yet tinged with a faintly aristocratic accent—filled the room.
"[Identify yourselves.]"
Negatron immediately sprang to his feet, snapping into a rigid salute. "Private Negatron, sir, of Launchpad 7-B—"
The voice cut through the bot's introduction, without a hint of hesitation. "[I am already aware of your designation, Private. Spare me the redundancies. Your signal is inadequate. Visual confirmation is compromised. I presume this stems from damage sustained during the Rodion prisoner exchange.]"
"Uh…well…"
The image on the intercom remained shrouded, though the faint outline of a figure—a single, glowing optic framed by jagged edges—began to emerge.
"[I also note that your vessel appears to operate using anterior conductors. This is an antiquated and inefficient choice. Upon your return to Kaon, submit a formal requisition to your crew chief for ionized carbide. This will resolve your communication issues and prevent such incompetencies from recurring in future communications.]"
Negatron stiffened, his posture rigid as his gaze darted briefly to Uzi. She stood off to the side, arms crossed, a triumphant smirk plastered across her face. Her expression wordlessly screamed, ' Told you so'.
"Yes, sir," Negatron muttered through gritted teeth, the reluctance in his tone palpable.
The voice continued, its clinical precision now edged with almost a trace of irritation. "[I am attempting to boost the signal from my end to compensate, though be advised—my own equipment has also sustained damage. Female Autobots had attempted to assassinate me earlier in the cycle. They succeed only in testing my patience.]"
Lizzy, Doll, and Uzi exchanged quick, pointed glances. Their expressions silently communicating the same thought as the disdain in the speaker's tone when uttering the word hadn't gone unnoticed.
"[As for the reason behind your immediate departure]" the figure continued, the screen flickering before stabilizing enough to reveal more of his form. He was tall, his frame bulky and angular, radiating both authority and menace. The distinctive fins of his helmet flared outward like a crown, accentuating his singular, glowing optic that burned through the haze of interference.
"[Overlord has been dealt with]" he stated matter-of-factly, as if discussing routine maintenance. "[I took matters into my own hands to ensure his neutralization. He has been subjugated and thrown back to his hole.]"
The room fell into stunned silence for a moment before Thad, unable to contain himself, blurted out, "Wait—you stopped that monster?" His voice was a mix of disbelief and awe, a sentiment mirrored on the faces of the others. The casual tone with which the figure spoke about Overlord's defeat was almost unnerving…
No. It wasn't just unnerving—it was deeply unsettling. The figure on the screen had reduced a feat of unimaginable brutality to something mundane. A chore. A trivial task to be completed and then discarded for more pressing matters.
"[...I do not recognize your voice]" the voice said at last, its clinical monotone carrying a faint edge of curiosity. "[One of the new recruits I was scheduled to meet, I presume? Hm.]"
The figure on the screen shifted slightly, his silhouette sharp against the poorly held view. The faint glow of his optic intensified, as if scanning the cabin—or perhaps the beings within it—with an unsettling precision.
"[Congratulations are in order]" the voice continued, "[not only on surviving your journey to Kaon, but on the decision to pledge your colony to the Decepticon cause. An achievement that will not go unnoticed.]"
Lizzy's optics widened in alarm. "Hang on, we never actually got anyone from our home to agree to tha—"
Her protest was abruptly silenced as the voice pressed on without pause, its tone resolute and indifferent to any objections. "[It was implied. Your mere presence signals intent, even if you have yet to fully comprehend the magnitude of your choice. Rest assured, I will see to it personally that your colony's integration is negotiated smoothly with your leaders. Their compliance will not be difficult to achieve.]"
The room seemed to grow colder as the implications of his words settled over them like a thick fog. Lizzy's indignation faltered, her optics darting nervously to the others. Doll's expression remained carefully neutral, though the rigid line of her posture betrayed her unease. Thad stood silently, his hand over his mouth, sheer worry etched into his features.
Uzi, by contrast, seemed almost at ease with the conversation, as if the figure's promises of Decepticon oversight were merely formalities—because, of course, a Decepticon assuming control of her colony would be the most obvious outcome. They needed proper leadership to survive the war.
"Yeah, that's not ominous at all, " Lizzy muttered under her breath, her sarcasm as obvious as a cannon shot through a glass house. Her optics narrowed as she stepped forward, shoulders squared despite her unease. "And if our leaders don't comply? What then?"
"[Noncompliance is not an option]" came the reply without even a moment's hesitation, the faint hum of machinery underscoring his words. As the screen began to clear further, his form became more distinct.
His armor was a deep, gleaming purple, its polished surface reflecting the dim light of whatever chamber he occupied. With one hand, he worked methodically at an unseen console, each movement precise and deliberate. His other arm hung motionless at his side, a cable of some kind seemingly connecting it to his torso from behind.
"[Interesting]" the voice shifted slightly, his tone betraying the faintest trace of intrigue. "[Kalis. That is where you originate, is it not? I had not heard mention of such a place in quite some time. I had assumed it remained dormant, its population still… in stasis.]"
Doll's optics flickered as the words struck an uncomfortable chord—she could tell in an instant that the bot knew something about their home. Her hands clenched at her sides, and her normally calm voice carried a subtle tremor as she replied. "(Until around 20 years ago or so.)"
The figure on the screen froze mid-motion, his hand hovering above the console as if her words had triggered something deep within his mind. Slowly, his head tilted, the unblinking yellow glow of his single optic locking onto her with unsettling focus.
"[Curious.]" he murmured, his tone sharper now, almost predatory in its analysis. "[I recognize your cadence. Your inflections.]" He paused, as if savoring the moment of realization before continuing. "[Your voice is unmistakably… familiar.]"
Doll instinctively took a step back, her optics flicking toward Uzi, whose visor had dimmed, betraying rare uncertainty. Lizzy, ever quick to fill the silence, stepped forward with a nervous laugh. "Listen, pal, let's not make this weird. We came to get something for our colony. Sure, we've got the badges now, but that doesn't mean everyone back home is ready to sign up for this Decepticon war thing. Most of them are not crazy enough to just up and go to Kaon on a whim—only our loneliest losers are."
"Bite me!" Uzi snapped, her visor flaring to life as she shot a glare at Lizzy. But her retort was cut short by the sharp 'clink' of the console. The figure moved, and as he finally came into full view, revealing the face of the being who had addressed them.
Or rather, the absence of a face.
A collective shudder ran through the colony drones, their frames stiffening as they beheld the figure before them.
Massive and imposing, his form dominated the screen. But his size wasn't what mattered—it was his appearance. First his armor. It didn't look like something that could be removed—it looked like a part of him, an inseparable extension of his being; it was him, every sharp edge and angular plate fused as if he had been forged whole from a single unyielding purpose.
But the true horror lay in his shoulders. His head.
Where there should have been a face—a mouth, optics, anything—there was only a smooth expanse of metal. At its center glowed a single, piercing yellow optic, unblinking and cold. No visor shielded it, no second optic softened its relentless gaze. It stared through them, into them, with a focus so clinical it felt as though he were stripping away their every pretense, dissecting them with his sight alone.
This…was Shockwave.
The silence stretched as the drones started, unable to look away from the single unblinking eye that seemed to pierce through to their very cores. This wasn't just a drone. It was something far more alien, more deliberate—an embodiment of something that defied comprehension for the young colony drones.
Lizzy audibly gulped, her usual bravado crumbling as she shuffled backward, half-hiding behind Thad. His own frame trembled slightly, servos twitching involuntarily as he remained in place out of sheer terror. Uzi was also still, her visor flickering faintly as though her internal systems struggled to process what she was seeing. Doll's hand hovered near her side, fingers flexing instinctively as she stared at something that simply looked…'wrong' to her.
Shockwave's optic swept over them, its slow, deliberate movement carrying a weight far beyond the physical. When it lingered on Doll, she felt it like a scalpel cutting through her metal, peeling her down to something raw and vulnerable. Then it shifted to Uzi, and the intensity somehow grew, as though he'd found something worth examining more closely.
"[And you…]" The cold light of his optic casted faint shadows across his otherwise featureless face. "[You bear traces as well. Your tone, your diction. Your eyes. Your hair. They are... derivatives of others I once knew.]"
Uzi's visor flickered again, her confidence cracking as she opened her mouth to respond but faltered, her voice caught in her throat. Doll's optics darted toward her, then back to Shockwave, her unease deepening. A faint shudder rippled through her frame as she dared to take a small step forward, placing herself slightly ahead of Uzi. It was a protective gesture, but one made without confidence.
Neither of them were prepared for his next words.
"[...Nori. Yeva. Do these names mean anything to you?]"
His voice remained cold, analytical, yet beneath it, something else simmered. It was faint—buried beneath his precise cadence—but it was there, an undertone impossible to identify. An echo of something long-buried.
Doll's optics widened slightly, her hand still trembling as it hovered at her side. She managed to speak, though her voice was unsteady, trembling with a mix of fear and desperate need for answers. "(You knew them?)"
Shockwave's optic remained fixed on her, his silence more oppressive than his words. Then, at last, he spoke, his voice carrying an eerie finality. "[I—]"
A sudden, repeated loud thud shattered the moment, the sound reverberating through the cabin like a hammer strike. It wasn't random. The rhythm was deliberate, too precise to be mere coincidence. All at once, the group turned toward the source.
The viewport.
A figure loomed outside, standing defiantly in the raging winds outside. The wind howled, whipping at his black coat as it billowed dramatically, his pilot's hat somehow remaining fixed atop silver hair that glistened in the moonlight. He waved, a gesture so casual it felt almost mocking.
It wasn't his presence. It wasn't the sharp, unnervingly toothy grin carved across his face. No, what sent a chill down Uzi's circuits was the visor. It displayed a single, glaring X that pulsed with ominous energy, casting an eerie glow against the backdrop of utter-black.
"Angel!" Negatron's voice cut through the tension, a panicked bellow as he bolted toward the cockpit.
Before anyone could fully register the warning, the drone's waving hand began to shift. The transformation was seamless—fluid yet horrifying in its precision. In the blink of an optic, his arm reconfigured into a sleek cannon, its polished surface radiating an ominous hum of charged energy. Without hesitation, he twisted himself, aiming the barrel directly at the ship's engines.
Uzi's optics widened, dawning horror freezing her circuits for a split second before instinct kicked in. "No—!" she cried, her arm beginning to morph in a desperate attempt to match the threat. But she was too slow.
The Angel's cannon fired.
The explosion ripped through the ship's rear with a deafening roar, its force tearing through the cabin like an unrelenting tidal wave. Alarms wailed as the metallic screech of shredding hull screamed.
The dropship lurched violently, tilting into a nosedive as it plummeted toward the ground—a burning wreck descending faster with every passing second.
A blinding red flash floods the cabin with searing light the moment it begins.
Uzi, Lizzy, and Thad were thrown back into their seats, the restraints snapping into place, locking them down as the cabin erupted into chaos. Shouts mingled with the hissing of ruptured systems, the air thick with smoke and panic.
Amid the destruction, Uzi caught one last glimpse of Doll. She stood, unrestrained, fighting against the centrifugal force of the falling ship. Her hand stretched toward them, outstretched fingers trembling with purpose.
Her visor flickered—first, a faint image of one optic morphing into a strange, indecipherable symbol. Then, as if with finality, the display shifted. A single word illuminated her entire visor.
(LIVE)
And then—blackness.