The Constructicons gathered in their subterranean workshop, the air thick with the hum of machinery and the faint tang of molten metal. Scrapper stood at the center, his arms crossed as he surveyed his team. Hook lingered nearby, meticulously adjusting a drafting board. The others—Bonecrusher, Mixmaster, Scavenger, and Long Haul—watched with varying expressions of curiosity and impatience.

Scrapper cleared his throat, silencing the low murmur of conversation. "Constructicons," he began, his voice steady but urgent, "I've been thinking about Devastator."

Bonecrusher grinned, leaning forward. "Yeah? What about him? He's already strong enough to flatten anything that gets in his way."

"Strength isn't everything," Hook cut in, his tone clipped. "Devastator's power is immense, but his ability to think and adapt? Severely lacking. He follows orders well enough, but on his own, he's... blunt. Predictable."

Long Haul, standing near the back, frowned and crossed his arms. "So, what? You want to give him a brain upgrade? Sounds like a lot of work for something that's already working fine."

Scrapper turned to him, his optics narrowing. "Long Haul, you of all people should appreciate efficiency. How often do you complain about hauling materials when it could be done faster or smarter? This is the same principle. We're not just making Devastator stronger; we're making him better."

Long Haul grumbled but didn't argue further, glancing toward Mixmaster, who was already nodding enthusiastically.

"That's right!" Mixmaster chimed in, his usual manic energy bubbling to the surface. "Smarter Devastator means better Devastator. Think of the Autobots' faces when he starts outsmarting them, not just crushing them."

Scavenger raised a hand hesitantly. "But... what if it doesn't work? What if it makes him... unstable? I mean, what if it messes with the way we merge?"

Hook straightened, his optics glinting. "We've accounted for that. The synchronization process will remain intact. This isn't a gamble; it's a calculated improvement. And to be clear, this is for Devastator—our Devastator. No one else."

Bonecrusher snorted, glancing at Scrapper. "And what about Megatron? You know how he feels about 'projects' he didn't approve."

"We'll tell him when it's done," Scrapper replied firmly. "By then, we'll have the results to prove its worth. Megatron values strength, yes, but he values victory more. A smarter Devastator is a better weapon."

Long Haul sighed and leaned against a crate, his expression skeptical. "And what about Starscream? That nosy jet's always sticking his nose where it doesn't belong."

"Precisely why we keep this quiet," Hook said, his voice calm but firm. "Starscream is intelligent enough to understand the implications, but too self-serving to let it stand without twisting it against us. If he comes around, we act like its just business as usual."

Scrapper stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the team. "This isn't just about improving Devastator. This is about proving who we are. We're not just builders—we're innovators. If we succeed, we solidify our place as the most vital unit in the Decepticon army. But we need everyone's cooperation."

Bonecrusher exchanged a glance with Scrapper, then nodded. "Alright, I'm in. Devastator deserves to be the best."

Mixmaster cackled and slapped Long Haul on the shoulder. "C'mon, you big lug. You know you're in too."

Long Haul grumbled again but finally relented. "Fine. Just don't expect me to do all the heavy lifting."

Scavenger nodded hesitantly. "If you're sure it'll work... I trust you."

Hook looked around the room, his optics locking with each of theirs. "Then it's settled. We begin immediately. No one speaks of this outside this room. Agreed?"

The team nodded, their collective resolve solidifying. Scrapper smiled faintly, his mind already racing with the details of their plan.

"Then let's get to work," he said.

Scrapper stood over a holographic display of Devastator's neural pathways, adjusting parameters on the screen with precision. Hook hovered nearby, monitoring the equipment that would recalibrate the giant combiner's neural network.

"His mind's as much a mess as his body," Hook muttered, inspecting the lines of code that defined Devastator's mental framework. "These connections are fragile. If we don't fix them, it won't hold."

Scrapper's optics narrowed as he reviewed the data, his tone serious. "We can't afford half measures. This isn't a simple tune-up—this is a total rebuild. We need Devastator to think, not just react. We need him to be more than a wrecking ball."

Hook's gaze remained on the equipment as he began configuring a recalibrator. "And if it doesn't work? If the system fractures?"

"I know the risks," Scrapper replied, his voice calm but determined. "If we succeed, Devastator won't just be a tool. He'll be the weapon Megatron always wanted—only smarter, more coordinated."

The hum of machinery intensified as Scrapper synced the recalibrations to the combiner's neural system. Each adjustment they made required the utmost care. The volatile nature of Devastator's combiner components meant that even a slight misstep could destabilize everything.

Scrapper hunched over the computer terminal, his digits moving swiftly across the interface as he inputted another series of commands. The screen flickered, lines of code scrolling by with a rhythmic hum. His optics narrowed in frustration as yet another error message flashed across the display.

"Blast it," he muttered, resetting the system. The Constructicon leader leaned back, exhaling sharply. Each component of Devastator was a finely tuned machine, but their synchronization required near-perfection. Even a fractional miscalculation could send the entire combiner into catastrophic instability.

Behind him, Hook stood with his arms crossed, observing Scrapper's work. "Perhaps if you adjusted the latency between the neural links," he suggested, his voice clipped. "The last iteration lagged during the transfer sequence."

"I'm aware," Scrapper snapped, though his tone lacked true venom. "But if I compensate too much, it'll throw off their feedback loop entirely. Devastator won't be able to hold cohesion for more than a few moments."

Hook raised an optic ridge but said nothing, leaving Scrapper to his work.

Scrapper leaned forward again, entering a new set of parameters. The system chimed as it processed the data, and for a moment, hope flickered in his optics. But then, just as before, the screen glowed red with failure.

"Frag it all!" Scrapper slammed a fist against the console, his frustration boiling over. "This shouldn't be this difficult. We've synchronized before—why is this time different?"

Mixmaster's voice piped up from the corner, where he had been tinkering with his own equipment. "Maybe, maybe too much clarity? Too much focus-focus! Neural pathways are… delicate! Like chemicals, mix too much, and boom!"

Scrapper rubbed his forehead, his mind racing. Mixmaster's comment, though chaotic, sparked a thought.

"Perhaps it's not just about clarity," he murmured. "It's about balance. Devastator's components need to function as one while maintaining their individuality. Over-calibrating one aspect could destabilize the others."

Hook nodded slightly, recognizing the logic. "Then fine-tune it incrementally. Begin with the core systems and branch outward."

Scrapper adjusted his approach, meticulously recalibrating the system step by step. He started with the central synchronization matrix, ensuring it accounted for the varying tolerances of each Constructicon. The neural pathways were adjusted next, given just enough clarity to enhance their cohesion without overriding individuality.

Minutes stretched into hours, with multiple test sequences failing in frustrating succession. But Scrapper pressed on, refining and reworking each failure until the system began to respond. The screen finally flashed green, signaling success.

Scrapper exhaled in relief, his shoulders sagging slightly. "There," he said, a faint note of triumph in his voice. "The pathways are optimized. Devastator will remain stable and maintain cohesion, even under heavy strain."

Hook allowed himself a rare smile. "About time."

"We need to start with his processing units," Scrapper explained. "Give each component the ability to think independently, but in a coordinated way. They can act on their own initiative, but all actions will remain in sync."

Hook raised an optic ridge, clearly skeptical. "You're suggesting that the components should think for themselves? That's risky. If they lose coordination, we're looking at chaos."

Scrapper shook his head. "Not separate thoughts. Coordinated cognition. The goal is to integrate enhanced awareness into Devastator's collective mind. Each part will have a more defined role, but they'll still work as one."

A low whistle escaped Hook's vocalizer. "You mean we're giving him autonomy? A mind of his own?"

"Yes. But a unified one," Scrapper affirmed, his voice firm. "It's all about balance. If we get this right, Devastator will no longer be a mindless brute. He'll be able to adapt, strategize, and lead."

There was a brief silence between them as they absorbed the magnitude of the task. The sound of tools clicking and machines whirring filled the space, each of them knowing how high the stakes were. Finally, Scrapper spoke again, breaking the quiet.

"Once we finalize the upgrades, we'll need to test the system. I don't need to remind you—this is dangerous. We can't afford to take shortcuts."

Hook nodded, already pulling out wires and connectors from his tool belt. "Subtle changes. Got it. I've mapped out the adjustments. After recalibration, we can test. But I won't lie—it's going to be dangerous."

Scrapper's gaze hardened with resolve. "We've never shied away from danger. Let's see if this works."

Hook gave a curt nod, adjusting the final sequences with precision. The tension in the workshop remained palpable until the sharp, grating voice of Starscream shattered the atmosphere.