A few hours before the Escape…
Silas stood with his hands clasped behind his back, surveying the flurry of activity unfolding around him. They were still rebuilding, a few days after the incident, after the destruction caused by that brat, Jack Darby. The teenager had made a mess of MECH's operation, and now precautions were being taken to ensure it wouldn't happen again.
One of these changes was the energon supply being relocated to a more secure location in the facility. Silas had no intention of allowing that brat to escape again, though if he somehow did, there wouldn't be anything for him to blow up, which would help them avoid that same mistake twice.
A familiar roar rumbled in the distance, drawing closer.
Thrusters.
His men froze, some instinctively reaching for their weapons. Silas raised a hand, silently commanding them to stay their movements. Turning slowly to the warehouse doors, he heard the sound of something transforming.
It was followed by the sound of claws scraping metal. Black talons pried part of the door open, curling around the edge of the small gap created. Steel groaned loudly and bent as they were forceable pulled away from each other with a screech.
Through the widening gap, the slender grey form of Starscream emerged. Crimson eyes cast a red hue over their operation, surveying everything with a critical eye.
Immediately, a dozen weapons were trained on him.
"Stay where you are!" barked one of Silas's men, fixing their weapons on key weaknesses of a Transformer. The blue substance that was radioactive and deadly to humans coated the mech, and he was covered in dents and scratches. The man doubted that it could feel any of it.
Their display didn't seem to bother Starscream. His lips curled into a smirk and that annoying, shrill voice came out of its vocalizer. "Well, well," he drawled. "What a warm welcome from my dear friends at MECH. Truly, I'm touched."
Silas' eyes narrowed at the sight of the Decepticon. "Why shouldn't I kill you where you stand?"
"I'm here to offer you… assistance."
"Assistance?" he repeated coldly. "Because the last time you offered your so-called assistance, we lost our Transformer and a T-Cog. Tell me, Starscream, why shouldn't I have my men put you down right here and now after what you did?"
Starscream waved a servo. "Oh, that unfortunate loss? A casualty of war, my dear Silas. They were lost in the heat of battle, courtesy of that wretched Autobot. Bumblebee, if I'm not mistaken."
Silas gestured to his men. "Shoot him."
The Transformer's optics widened. "Now, now! Let's not be hasty!" he said quickly, his voice rising in pitch. "That debacle was not my fault! It was a regrettable circumstance, but hardly my doing."
The man wasn't moved and the Transformer noticed this, looking panicked.
"I can still be of use to you!"
"Speak quickly, Starscream. I don't have time for your theatrics."
Starscream straightened, composing himself. "I've come to offer my services once more. As your… advisor."
Silas raised an eyebrow. "Really? Because the last time you 'advised' us, it ended with failure and a great deal of wasted resources."
The Decepticon waved a servo again, chuckling nervously. "Ah, but this time will be different. I have… information. Valuable information. Knowledge only I can provide."
The MECH leader crossed his arms. "And what exactly do you want in return?"
"Energon," Starscream replied without hesitation. "A modest supply. Enough to sustain myself."
Silas studied the Decepticon for a long moment. He didn't trust Starscream—no one in their right mind would—but the opportunity was tempting. MECH's attempts to hack into the captured Vehicon's processor were progressing too slowly, even with Rafael Esquivel's expertise. They needed results, and they needed them quickly.
Sparing some energon wouldn't hurt…
"If you betray me again, Starscream, there won't be enough of you left to salvage." Silas finally said, glaring at the Decept-i-con.
Starscream chuckled nervously. "Perish the thought. I am, after all, a mech of my word."
Right, he thought with a scoff, watching as the Transformer turned his attention to its comrades.
"My, my, my," Starscream drawled, clasping his claws together and leaning forward slightly as he examined the drones strapped to the tables. "Whatever have you been inflicting upon these poor, defenseless Vehicons?"
"That's not your concern," he snapped.
Starscream let out an exaggerated hum of disapproval. "Oh, but it is my concern," he replied. "After all, these Vehicons are my comrades… well, former comrades. Perhaps not the most intellectually stimulating company, but loyal nonetheless. And here they are, being prodded and poked like common lab rats!"
Silas didn't dignify the comment with a response. Instead, he gestured toward one of the three slabs, the middle one, where the pale-faced and wide-eyed Rafael Esquivel looked up at the Decepticon.
"You can start by helping the boy," Silas ordered, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.
The Decepticon's gaze lazily drifted to the trembling boy, and a grin spread across his face. "Well, well, well," he cooed, his voice taking on a mockingly sweet tone. "What's this? The Autobots' pet human? However did you get it?"
Rafael shrunk under the attention of the Transformer.
"That is none of your concern," Silas replied, feeling his patience thin. "Now, if you would."
"Desperation must truly be setting in if you're relying on that."
"He's more useful than you'll ever be, Starscream," he rebutted sharply. "Now stop stalling and get to work. The sooner you provide results, the sooner you get your energon."
Starscream bristled at the insult, plating rising ever so slightly. Silas thought he felt something electric in the air before it was gone. "Very well," he said, turning his attention back to Rafael. "What exactly is the boy genius struggling with?"
The boy's response was so quiet that he barely heard it. "I-it's the Vehicon's processor. The encryption—it's… it's too advanced."
Starscream chuckled, low and menacing. "Oh, of course it is," he sneered. "Decepticon technology isn't meant to be tampered with by the likes of you. But worry not, little one. You're in the presence of Starscream—the brilliant former second-in-command of the Decepticons!" He puffed out his chest, claws gesturing dramatically.
His patience dried up. "Enough with the theatrics," he barked. "Fix the problem."
Starscream sighed theatrically, muttering under his breath, "No appreciation for showmanship." He moved toward the workstation where Rafael had been attempting to decode the processor.
Silas slowly turned back to the energon stores, gesturing for his men to continue with what they were doing. The man knew he was playing with fire, and fire burned. But it could be extinguished, or tamed. Whichever came first.
He would have his Transformers, and if it meant getting a little hurt to have them, he would gladly pay the price. And if it failed…
Well, there were other ways to obtain more.
Miko screamed as icy water engulfed her face once again, lungs burning as she flailed desperately, trying to find something to grab onto. The edges of the metal basin were too slick, causing her fingers to slip uselessly off the surface. Her chest tightened painfully as water forced its way in, and her vision was starting to darken.
Just when she thought she might pass out, the hand gripping the back of her neck yanked her out of the water. She coughed violently, choking on the water she'd inhaled, body shaking uncontrollably from the cold. Her torturer, Mr. Baldie Creepy Face, leaned in close, and her nose wrinkled at the foul smell of alcohol.
"P-p-please… s-s-stop," Miko stammered through chattering teeth, clawing weakly at the hand holding her neck.
The man laughed, a sound that sent a shiver down her spine. "You know begging doesn't work here," he mocked sweetly. "But I do enjoy it! Please continue, my dear Miko."
Without warning, he dunked her under the water again.
Miko's world knew only ice and darkness. Ice and water. Torture. Her throat hurt from screaming and it constricted when more water flooded into it. She kicked and struggled, but there was nothing she could do against Felton's strength.
Then an idea formed in her panicked mind. She forced herself to stop moving, letting her limbs go slack. Panic creeped up on her and it took everything inside of her not to move as she pretended to go limp. Nononononono…
The man muttered something above, likely disappointed that she had "passed out" earlier than usual. The moment his hold on her neck slipped away, Miko jerked upward with all the strength she could muster. Her head smashed into his nose with a sickening crack.
The man staggered back with a pained cry, clutching his now-bleeding nose. "You little brat!" he snarled, blood pouring between his fingers.
Miko didn't wait for him to recover. She scanned the room frantically, eyes locking onto the torture table in the smaller room they had set up specifically for her. There, among the mess of tools and instruments, was a crowbar. Her stomach churned at the sight of the dry blood staining its surface, but she pushed the thought aside.
The man growled and reached for a knife on his belt, his eyes blazing with fury.
Miko dove for the table, ducking just in time to avoid the blade as it swiped through the air where her neck had been moments before. Her fingers closed around the cold metal of the crowbar, and she swung it around in an arc as she turned.
It connected with his temple, and he dropped like a sack of potatoes, hitting the floor with a heavy thud. Bulkhead would be so proud, Miko thought wistfully. She shoved the thought away and grabbed his knife. The girl had no idea how long he'd stay down, or if someone else would come looking for him. And she had no desire to find out.
Clutching the knife tightly in her shaking hand, Miko crept down the horror halls. Everything looked the fricking same! Ugh, why couldn't they have neon signs? For the umpteenth time in the past minute, she glanced back, half-expecting to see Mr. Creepy Baldie Face there, waiting to drag her back to that torture tomb.
The exchange student glanced down at the knife in her hand, seeing her blood all over it. It made her want to gag, and she wished she had grabbed another one from the table instead of the one that Felton used to torture her.
As she rounded another corner for the a billionth time, her ears caught a muffled sound. Screaming? Whimpering? It was a pained noise, coming from a room down the hall. She peeked over the edge, seeing no guards walking down the hall.
Miko edged closer to the source and slowly peered into the small observation window of a metal door. Her stomach dropped.
Jack.
Her friend was strapped to a metal chair, head lolled back and eyes glazed over. His face was bruised and cut up, blood dripping from various parts of his thinned features. A black-haired woman stood in front of him, the one talking to Silas, she recalled vaguely, and gripped his chin tightly as she said something Miko couldn't hear. Jack flinched, but he didn't reply.
Silas was there too, watching silently from the corner of the room, looking relaxed. Relaxed! How could that bastard be relaxed when he was torturing a kid!? It made her burn with rage. Inside, two guards stood on either side of the doorway, holding their stupid guns in their hands.
Her heart screamed at her to rush in and do something, but her mind held her back. She wasn't strong enough to take on Silas and his guards, not in her state. She highly doubted she could overpower any of them before the alarm was raised.
The Japanese girl saw Jack's eyes focusing, and they stared right at her. Surprise flashed across his expression, but he recovered quickly and mouthed one word: Go. She ducked right as the woman turned to follow the boy's gaze. Tears pricked at her eyes, swearing to herself that she'd rescue Jack and Raf.
The exchange student turned away from the door and hurried down the hallway, forcing herself to ignore the sound of Jack's pained cries as the torture started again. She continued to wander around, nearly getting caught twice by guards who were patrolling. If it weren't for her quick thinking, she'd be back in the cell.
Eventually, Miko came to the familiar crossroad of hallways and took the one that led to the warehouse. She ducked behind the stack of crates she originally hid behind with Jack, finding that it was a much smaller pile than last time.
There was no longer a clear path to snake through unnoticed. Many of them had been moved, leaving large gaps in the space and exposing areas that were once hiding. The girl crouched low, peering around the corner of her hiding spot.
Two soldiers stood in front of the path she needed to get through, talking and laughing.
"…and then he actually thought I'd give him my food!" one soldier said, laughing. "Can you believe that? I told him, 'Hey, you wanna trade, you better come up with something better than that sorry excuse for a sandwich!'"
The other soldier snorted. "Bet he went crying back to the barracks after that."
"Probably! I swear, half these recruits—"
Miko rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to groan as she tuned out their lame conversation. But it wasn't like she could just walk up and tell them to shut up. She exhaled quietly and scanned the area. Her eyes locked on a staircase right across from her, and she quickly darted over to it.
The steps were cold to her bare feet as she climbed up them one by one, thankful that they didn't creak. She glanced back down at the soldiers, seeing them still engaged in their conversation. When she reached the top, she paused and peeked over the final step, seeing a large observation platform with a room to the side, filled with screens that she assumed were watching the base.
At the end, there was a table filled with a bunch of stuff, next to another set of stairs, and a man standing next to it. She hid behind the metal room, peering out at the man who was occupied with a paper. Ugh, she was never going to get out of here without the man seeing her.
He turned around and Miko pulled herself behind the metal wall. She prayed that he didn't—
"Who's there?"
Miko froze. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest, and it felt like it was about to break free of its cage.
"Come out, I know you're there."
The girl didn't listen to his soft voice. He was just bluffing. Only when footsteps drew close to her, and a man peered over the corner, she realized she was wrong.
The Japanese girl stared up at the man. He looked tired.
His brown hair was messy, and large, round glasses magnified bright blue eyes that were rimmed with dark circles. His skin was sickly and pulled tight. The white lab coat he wore was slightly wrinkled and stained, adding to the impression that he hadn't eaten or slept in days.
Their eyes met, and for a moment, neither of them moved.
"What are you doing here?" His expression shifted from confusion to alarm.
Miko raised the knife defensively. "Put the walkie-talkie down," she demanded, fiercely glaring at the shaky man. It was hard to sound intimidating in a whisper.
The MECH weirdo reached for the device clipped to his belt, just barely hidden by the coat. Slowly, he unhooked it and set it on the floor. "There. It's down. No need for the knife."
"Who are you?" she snapped. "Why aren't you sounding the alarm?"
He hesitated before answering, his voice soft. "My name is Dr. Conners. And you must be Miko. You're one of them."
Her eyes narrowed. "Them?"
Dr. Conners raised his hands in a placating gesture. "The latest test subjects for Project Chimera."
Latest?
The exchange student's lips curled into a snarl. "If you're trying to take me back, I'll fight you."
He shook his head quickly, panic flashing in his eyes. "No, no!" The man quickly covered his mouth, realizing he had been too loud. After a moment of holding their breaths, and nothing happened, they resumed their 'chat'. "I'm not here to hurt you. You're a human being. You can be reasoned with."
Miko growled. "Reasoned with? After everything your people did to me and Jack and Raf? You think I'm just gonna walk back into that? I'd rather die."
Dr. Conners winced, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I… I know what they've done. I don't agree with it, but… it's all in the name of science."
"Science?" She hissed, eyes flashing furiously. This bi—
He cut into her thoughts, saying "It's necessary. Earth will be better because of your contributions to the cause."
"You're just trying to make yourself feel better about being a coward."
His shoulders sagged, and he sighed heavily. "Maybe I am," he admitted. "But I'm not like Silas. I don't believe in… in torturing kids." His voice cracked slightly, and he looked up at her with pleading eyes. "I don't want to see anyone else hurt."
Miko studied him. He sounded genuine, but she'd die before she trusted MECH scum. They were the reason she was in this mess in the first place!
The sad man's hand slowly crept to his coat pocket. The Japanese girl raised the knife and pointed it at him threateningly. "Stop that," she hissed.
Conners didn't and she was about to strike him when he pulled out a pink flip phone. Her eyes widened as he held out the device to her.
"You need to go," he said softly, holding the phone out to her. He looked… sad. "Take this. Use it to call for help. Just… get out of here before anyone else sees you."
Miko hesitated for a moment before she snatched it from his hand, tucking it into her pocket.
"You better hope I don't see you again," she warned, backing around him, keeping her gaze locked onto him just in case he tried something funny. The girl made her way to the other side, where the opposite stairs were.
Dr. Conners nodded. "I hope you don't."
The girl looked over the sprawling chaos of the warehouse, searching for Raf. Her eyes darted across the open space, but she didn't see his bright, colorful outfit or his unmistakable spiky hair anywhere. Her heart clenched at the thought of what might be happening to him.
No. He's fine, she forced herself to push aside the thought. I need to get out of here for Raf and Jack to contact the 'Bots.
The only thing she saw was a neater space with less stuff. A lot of the fuel drums, vehicles that weren't blown up and weapons had been cleaned up, most likely moved elsewhere after the epic stunt Jack pulled off.
Miko descended the staircase cautiously, unable to resist shooting another glance over her shoulder to where Dr. Conners had been, but the man had already disappeared back out of her view. Good riddance, she thought, though a small part of her hoped he wouldn't tip off anyone to her presence.
Reaching the bottom, she scanned the warehouse. This area had a large stack of biohazard marked crates ready to be moved. Parts of these crates disappeared when a forklift took them away to another part of the base. This was totally going to be easy…
Maneuvering around one of the maze of crates, she eventually made her way to the warehouse's found entrance. Hiding behind the slab of metal with Vehicon on it, deathly still and eerily quiet, she peered over the edge, looking at the massive metal doors were wide open, bent and dented, allowing the warm air from outside to waft inside.
Beyond the threshold, Miko saw the MECH's whole operation outside. Vehicles of all kinds—Humvees, green sportscars, and black vans—were parked in neat rows. Helicopters were stationed a short distance away, and soldiers roamed the area freely.
Her eyes locked onto a Humvee parked near the open doors and saw that the driver's door was slightly open. She couldn't see if there was anybody inside, but she wasn't about to let the opportunity pass. The girl glanced around and saw a forklift taking crates outside and she darted over to it, crawling alongside it as it made its way outside.
It was almost surreal what she was doing. She might have thought she was in an action spy movie where she watched the good guy sneak through the bad guy's base. But this was very much real, just like when she met the 'Bots for the first time.
When it close enough, she made a mad dash to the Humvee. She halted when she saw a soldier, seated behind the wheel, looking down at his phone.
Miko attempted to back away, but he spotted her. Oh no...
The Japanese girl lunged at him, jumping into the car as she stabbed him in the shoulder. The soldier let out a shout of pain and surprise, grabbing her wrist with one hand while reaching for his sidearm with the other.
The two struggled violently in the confined space of the Humvee. Miko twisted and thrashed, trying to free her wrist while simultaneously grappling for his gun. The soldier was stronger, she hissed and bit down on his hand, eliciting another cry of pain as he cradled the throbbing limb.
"Get off me, you little—!" the soldier snarled, trying to shove her away.
Her hand closed around the grip of his gun, and with a tug, she wrenched it free from its holster. She aimed it at him, clicking the safety and aiming it at him.
"Don't move," she hissed.
The soldier froze. "You won't use that," he realized with a grin, his hand slowly creeping to his radio.
"Try me."
Her finger hovered over the trigger. "Get out of the car. Now."
The grin faded away from his face when he saw the determination in her eyes, and the barrel of the gun seemed a whole lot more threatening. It was enough to convince him. Slowly, he raised his hands, and she crawled off his lap as he stumbled off the car.
Miko lowered the gun slightly as she attempted to close the door. The man saw his chance and lunged for the weapon.
A clap of thunder followed, echoing painfully loud into the sky, probably alerting all of MECH that something was up. An agonized scream was followed by a thud, with a man clutching his wound and writhing in pain.
I just shot someone, Miko thought in shock. She snapped off of her reverie and slammed the door shut, locking it for good measure. She tossed the knife and gun onto the passenger seat and settled into the driver's seat.
She was actually doing this!
Uh…
Kind of.
Her eyes scanned the complicated console layout before her as she tried to remember everything Bulkhead had taught her during their less-than-stellar driving lessons. Her eyes found that the key was already in the ignition.
It seemed luck was on her side. Yelling and screaming outside prompted her to figure out whatever she needed to figure out faster.
Turning the key and hearing the engine roar to life, she glanced down at the pedals at her feet, which were a bit too far down for her to reach in her current position. "Erm… which one is the gas?"
June Darby stepped into Agent Fowler's sparsely decorated office. The man sat at a cluttered desk, papers scattered haphazardly across the wooden surface, and coffee that had long gone cold was dangerously close to the edge.
The government liaison had a phone pressed to his ear with a frustrated expression on his face that seemed to have been permanently etched there for the past few days.
"No, I understand. I-yes, of course. I'll be there," he said curtly. He placed the phone back in its cradle with a sigh, rubbing his face wearily, as if to ward off an impending headache. She could practically see one forming right now.
The woman hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Who was that?"
Fowler looked up at her, forcing a tired smile. "My bosses. It's nothing for you to worry about."
June nodded slowly, sliding into the chair across from his desk. She folded her hands in her lap, taking a deep breath. "Have you heard anything about Jack? About the kids?" This was the first time she'd asked today, which was a record from her previous days.
"I'm afraid not, Ms. Darby. I wish I had better news." He paused, rubbing the back of his neck to try and loosen the tension that had taken up permanent residence there. "I'm heading over to see the 'Bots in a few minutes. Maybe they'll have something."
Her lips pressed into a thin line as she gave a stiff nod. "I see."
An awkward silence stretched between them, heavy and uncomfortable. Fowler cleared his throat, shifting in his chair, searching for the right thing to say. Finally, he offered, "You can come if you'd like."
"No."
Fowler blinked, caught off guard by her abruptness. His shoulders sagged slightly, but he mustered a polite smile. "It's not that I don't want to go with you," June added hurriedly, noticing his crestfallen expression. "You're a very nice man." She caught the way he straightened at her words, puffing up slightly. "I just… don't want to see the Autobots."
The man nodded. "I get it, Ms. Darby. It's a lot to deal with."
"Please, call me June," she said with a small smile.
The government liaison's lips quirked upward into a faint grin. "Then call me William, Mis—uh, June."
The silence quickly crept back in, once again setting the room into an uncomfortable silence. Fowler cleared his throat again, shuffling the papers on his desk aimlessly, while June's gaze wandered around the office, taking in the cracks in the walls.
"When will it be safe to return home?" she asked finally, thankfully breaking the silence.
"When MECH is six feet under," he responded grimly, adding to her sense of helplessness. She hated feeling this way, knowing that she was unable to do anything for her son, who God forbid, could be being tortured to death.
The woman nodded slowly, swallowing hard against the lump forming in her throat. "I just… I hate this. Being stuck here. Not knowing if Jack is—" Her voice cracked, and she looked away, blinking rapidly as tears threatened to spill over.
The man hesitated, looking unsure of what to say. "June," he began gently, "you're safe here. That's what matters right now."
"Safe?" she repeated bitterly. "How can I feel safe when my son is out there, somewhere, with those… those monsters! I should be doing something but instead, I'm just sitting here, waiting!"
Fowler leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "June, you're doing everything you can right now by staying here. MECH isn't just a bunch of thugs; they're highly trained, well-equipped, and ruthless. If you went out there, you'd only be putting yourself in more danger. Jack wouldn't want that."
Tears slipped down her cheeks despite her attempts to hold them back. "It's not enough. I'm his mother, William. I'm supposed to protect him. How did it come to this?"
"I know this feels impossible, but you can't shoulder all the blame. What happened to Jack and the others… it wasn't your fault."
"Then whose fault is it? The Autobots? They're supposed to be their protectors, aren't they? And yet my son, my son, is missing because of them!" A sob broke through and she covered her mouth, using her free hand to hug her waist.
"I know you're angry. And you have every right to be." The man sighed and sagged, suddenly looking ten times older. "But blaming the Autobots isn't fair. They've been doing everything they can. Do you think this isn't tearing them up inside? They're not just sitting around, June. They're fighting for those kids every single day."
June scoffed, wiping angrily at her face. "If they'd done their job in the first place, Jack wouldn't have been taken!"
Fowler leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "You're not wrong to feel the way you do," he said finally. "But isn't like anything we've dealt with before. They don't play by the rules, and they don't care who gets hurt in the process. The Autobots didn't fail, June. They got blindsided. Just like all of us."
The mother's hands trembled, and she clasped them together to get them to stop. "I just… I want him back. I want all of them back."
"And we will get them back," Fowler said firmly. "But the only way we're going to do that is by trusting in the Autobots."
The woman fixed her gaze on the floor, stubbornly refusing to look up. "Look," the government liaison said gently, "I get it. You're scared. I am too. But we're not giving up, and neither are the Autobots. Jack's tough, he takes after you. You just have to hold onto that hope."
June sniffled and looked up with puffy eyes, nodding weakly. "I just don't know how much more of this I can take."
Fowler gave her a small. "You're stronger than you think, June."
"Thank you, William," she whispered.
"Anytime," he replied softly, leaning back in his chair. "And if you ever need to vent, you know where to find me."
June managed a faint smile, though her heart still ached. The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable, and she sat there for a long moment, trying to regain her composure. Taking a breath and wiping at her face, she watched as William got up from his chair, straightening his coat.
"William."
"Yes?"
"I want to go to the base."
I've been devastated the last two days. I had a cousin and their family over and their brat of a teenager hated me. I was unaware of this at the time because I they acted so polite and friendly. Well, at the dinner table I mentioned that I loved to write and posted on sites (I have specifics) per their questioning, especially Star Wars and the brat after dinner, asked they could check out my stories. So I allowed it, logging into my computer. They asked if they could see my dogs after, and I agreed but I had to get them out first.
So I went outside to the "barn" (it is a shed that is reminiscent of a barn) and proceeded to take them out to their cage (a large one that is temporary until we can get fencing for the backyard) which took about 10-15 minutes, because I also needed to refill their water and give them their food for the evening. When I came back, the cousin was done and my computer was logged off. They complimented my writing and wanted to go pet the dogs.
I didn't think much of it and entertained the family for the rest of the evening until they left. When I logged in to post the next chapters of this story and The Awakening of Cybertron, I found that all of them were erased. Every single one. That's over 700k+ words and ideas and years of time. I immediately went to my sites and checked if my stories were still there, and much to my relief Project Chimera and The Awakening of Cybertron were still there. However, my other two were deleted on all sites. I don't know why they didn't erase my TF ones, but I am grateful nonetheless. I was able to copy these two again onto Word.
But I am going to be down for a while. That was a lot of work and time that I poured into those other stories. Anyways, hope you enjoyed this chapter.