"What's wrong, Arcee? Why that face?" Airachnid mocked, savoring the expression of pure despair stamped across the Autobot's features. Her steps echoed almost like a dance as she walked past the broken warrior.
"What did you do… why…?" Arcee stammered, her voice trembling with horror and disbelief.
"Because it's fun." Airachnid replied, cruelty dripping from her tone, while the thick smoke, heavy with soot, slowly began to dissipate.
For a brief moment, the battlefield, devastated and silent, seemed to hold its breath. The smoldering carcasses of Decepticons lay scattered like broken puppets. For those who were slowly regaining their senses after the missile impact, the sight was almost a reflection of what Cybertron had become—consumed by the flames of war.
Optimus Prime pressed his hand against the scorched ground, trying to recover from the impact as he struggled to his feet. His optics scanned the desolation until they settled on the looming shadow of the Decepticon warship hovering in the sky, like a metallic vulture awaiting the planet's final breath.
The Autobot leader moved, his heavy steps echoing across sand and debris. His sensors swept the terrain until he located Bumblebee, fallen and motionless. Relief mixed with fear coursed through his systems as he confirmed that at least his comrade was still intact.
"Bumblebee… wake up." Optimus said, resting a hand on his shoulder. Bumblebee's optics flickered back to life in blue, blinking with confusion and alarm at the destruction around them. His beeps echoed like an electronic lament.
"Come… we must find Arcee. And the Allspark." Optimus helped him to his feet, the two advancing through the wreckage until they spotted Arcee, kneeling on the scorched sand.
"Arcee!" Optimus's voice carried urgency, his arm already shifting into a cannon. "Where is the Allspark?!"
She didn't move. She didn't answer. She remained still, as though the world itself had frozen around her.
"Arcee!"
"It's… here…" she whispered, her voice breaking as she raised, with trembling hands, the remnants of the Allspark—mere fragments glowing faintly like dying embers, the symbol of hope reduced to ruin.
Optimus's optics widened, the weight of the moment nearly bringing him to his knees. He crouched, lifting one of the fragments in his hands. The energy of the artifact bled into the air like a final breath, dissipating into the wind.
"No…" Optimus murmured, guilt cutting through his spark like a cold blade.
"It's over… there's no way to bring life back to Cybertron anymore." Arcee said, her voice laden with a grief she hadn't dared to feel in millennia. For the first time, she wished she could cry like the humans—but inside her, only emptiness remained.
With strength born of despair, she clenched her fists around the shards, as though sheer will could piece them back together.
"She broke it… Airachnid broke the Allspark…" she whispered, before striking the ground with her fist, unable to accept the monstrous act that had doomed their world out of sheer spite.
The sound of heavy steps crushing the sand shattered the Autobots' silence. They turned just in time to see Megatron approaching, his armor scorched, his optics burning with hatred.
The tyrant froze at the sight of the Allspark's fragments in Arcee's hands.
"No…" was all he managed to say, the word escaping as empty air, horror carved into his metallic face.
Megatron's fist clenched, his teeth grinding, his entire frame trembling with suppressed fury.
"What have you done?!" His roar tore across the battlefield, loaded with a hatred so thick it felt tangible. He advanced, each step a thunderclap shaking the earth.
Optimus helped Arcee to her feet. His optics lingered on the fragments one more time, remorse gnawing at his spark. Yet deep within, a strange feeling stirred—an uncomfortable sense that this story wasn't over.
He noticed that the portal was deactivated, likely due to the explosion that had disrupted the energy flow and abruptly closed the portal. He linked his radio to the Autobot base to request an escape route.
"Raf, open the groundbridge to my coordinates." Optimus ordered firmly, guiding Arcee and Bumblebee toward the vortex forming behind them.
Before crossing the threshold, Optimus cast one last look at Megatron. For a brief instant, the two enemies locked optics in silence, the weight of what had been lost etched across both of them. The portal sealed, swallowing the Autobots in light as the battle left its eternal scars.
When it closed, Megatron looked down at the fragments of the Allspark, at a loss for words. Deep down, he knew everything that had transpired had been rendered meaningless by the loss of the relic.
For without the Allspark, all hope of restoring life to Cybertron slipped away like sand through his claws. No chance remained, no real possibility of forging a new generation. It was as though fate itself mocked him, reminding him that despite all his power and ambition, he still depended on that artifact to claim true supremacy.
A cold, arrogant smile curved his metallic lips. How ironic. The greatest symbol of Cybertron—and the very reason for the Decepticons' persistence—reduced to useless shards. But he would not allow this defeat to be the end. As long as his will endured, he would shape the future… even if he had to crush everything and everyone to do it.
"Soundwave, inform Knock Out to collect what remains of the Allspark." He spoke in a neutral, yet ominous tone.
***
Autobot Base…
When the portal closed, Optimus guided Bumblebee to the improvised medical wing, where Bulkhead was resting.
"Bee!" Raf gasped when he saw his friend holding his shoulder, clearly damaged. "Are you okay?"
Bumblebee let out a beep, making it clear that he would survive.
"Arcee, are you alright?" Jack asked, noticing how shaken she looked.
"I don't want to talk right now, Jack." Arcee replied, her voice heavy with irritation and exhaustion, as if every word was a burden she struggled to contain. Without waiting for an answer, she turned and walked into the base, seeking isolation as a refuge from the storm raging inside her.
"Optimus… the Allspark?" Bulkhead asked, his voice heavy and broken by his still-damaged jaw, which he could barely move without pain. Each word seemed to cost him immense effort, reflecting not only his physical pain but also the frustration of being unable to help in the great battle that had just taken place.
"The Allspark has apparently been destroyed," Optimus said, not believing his own words.
Bulkhead's eyes widened, almost as if he wanted to jump from his resting place, but his body betrayed him. "No… it can't… be." he said, ignoring the pain in his jaw.
Bumblebee emitted a series of quick, anxious beeps, each sound loaded with tension and worry, confirming the devastating news. His signals echoed through the room, vibrating in the air and making Bulkhead feel dizzy, as if the very energy of defeat weighed on him like tons.
Optimus approached the control panel and activated the communicator. "Ratchet, I am opening a portal to your location."
Pulling the lever, the portal activated, and it didn't take long for Ratchet to appear, walking in with a serious but expectant expression. "Where is the Allspark?! Tell me you recovered it before the Decepticons!"
He immediately noticed the heavy atmosphere in the base, displeased with their reaction.
Soon after, Grimlock stepped through the portal, startling the humans with his colossal size. He hit his head on the translocation supports, forcing himself into an extreme crouch to squeeze through the entrance, far too small for someone of his stature.
"Grrr, you need to make this thing bigger," Grimlock complained, standing tall again and nearly making Miko stumble, overwhelmed by his towering height.
"I told you you'd have to crouch to fit through," Ratchet said, turning to face Optimus. "Tell me, Optimus, what happened?"
"Airachnid destroyed the Allspark." Optimus replied, his voice laced with restrained fury, trembling like thunder ready to burst.
Ratchet's eyes widened, the weight of those words almost making the ground vanish beneath his feet. A paralyzing chill ran down his spine, as if the weight of the universe had crashed onto him.
"You can't be serious… Are you certain of what you saw?!" Ratchet demanded, his voice breaking with disbelief and urgency.
Bumblebee confirmed with a firm nod, reinforcing the gravity of the situation and intensifying the storm of anxiety growing inside Ratchet.
Jack, Miko, and Raf remained in absolute silence, the air around them heavy, almost suffocating, as if hope itself had drained from the room. In their eyes was the deep pain of witnessing the devastation of everything they loved, the anguish of watching their companions slowly fall, and the cruel reality that restoring their homeworld seemed ever more distant, perhaps impossible.
Miko, tense, remained motionless, her trembling fingers interlaced as her eyes stayed fixed on Jack, who looked just as stunned as she was. The weight of silence spoke louder than any words could. They knew they were just humans, weak in the face of such a colossal war, and that this brutal truth was something far beyond what they could even begin to grasp, let alone fight against.
"So much energon spilled… so many who died… all in vain." Ratchet muttered, his voice cracking, nearly breaking under the weight of despair. His fingers trembled before he struck the concrete wall with a brutal punch, the sound reverberating with a dry thud through the room.
The impact was more than physical; it was the manifestation of deep pain, a silent mourning that corroded his chest. That blow was a contained scream, a desperate attempt to expel the crushing weight of guilt he felt.
His eyes, normally sharp and focused, were now shadowed and resentful, burdened with the exhaustion of sleepless nights and the bitter sense of helplessness in the face of suffering from years of an endless war.
For a moment, Ratchet let himself collapse against the wall, his heavy frame sinking to the ground, exhausted.
Grimlock rolled his optics with disdain, as if all that drama was nothing but an unnecessary spectacle. To him, the destruction of the Allspark was no cause for immediate concern. After all, he was one of the few who knew that the true Allspark was far safer than anyone there could imagine—hidden beneath the fragile skin of a human, protected precisely by the absurd simplicity of a disguise no Cybertronian would ever dare to suspect.
As he observed the three humans watching him—frail, fleeting creatures—he couldn't help but acknowledge, with a veiled sense of admiration, the brilliance of such an improbable hiding place. That living camouflage, that vital essence concealed beneath flesh and bone, was something even the most cunning of Decepticons would never immediately suspect.
For now, Grimlock allowed himself this rare comfort: there was no reason for alarm—at least, not if one overlooked the fact that Airachnid had been chosen as the artifact's guardian.
"Is there a large room where I can rest?" Grimlock asked, casting an intimidating look at Bumblebee, who hesitated before nodding nervously.
Ignoring the false alarm spreading through the group, Grimlock strode down the long corridor as though none of it really mattered. His heavy footsteps echoed through the base, yet the way he walked seemed almost casual, unconcerned, as if he were simply searching for a comfortable place to rest.
"These idiots are far too dramatic," he muttered to himself, his voice low, resonating off the metallic walls. "I really hate tight spaces. It seems like there's no consideration for someone my size."
Soon, he found a massive storage chamber, the air saturated with the metallic tang of the energon stockpiled for the base."Hmmm. So this is where they keep their Energon. At least this space is large enough for me."
With a slow motion, Grimlock lowered himself onto the cold floor, his back pressing against the rough wall, which groaned beneath his colossal weight. A deep sigh escaped his systems, heavy as the burden carved into his memory.
In his mind, images collided: the heat of the recent battle, the brutal clash with Shockwave on Cybertron, and the horrors that had come before. At times, without warning, flashes of that brutal torment would break through his vision—just like now.
Once again, he was trapped in Shockwave's cold machines, while the mad scientist conducted the experiments that forced his transformation. Cables pierced his body, circuits burned, systems rewritten, agony flooding every thread of his consciousness. The process that had reshaped him into the creature he was today.
Grimlock squeezed his optics shut for a moment, trying to banish the echoes of that torment. It was as if he could still feel the weight of the chains. The memory only fueled his deepest desire: to find Shockwave and make him suffer in the worst way possible. He remembered it vividly—in battle, he had torn Shockwave's arm off when he broke free from the attempted mind control, just before the space bridge's explosion.
Now, here on Earth, everything felt too small, too quiet. Such a stark contrast to the chaos and brutality of Cybertron's days.
"This definitely wasn't part of my plan," he muttered, resting his head against the wall. "But if I survived the explosion of the space bridge, I can survive this planet as well."
He crossed his arms tightly, as if to smother the discomfort burning in his circuits."I need to find my comrades. Those idiots wouldn't die from a simple explosion."