✈️ Inside the Decepticon Transport – En Route to London
The sky outside was dark, lit only by blinking navigation lights on the wings. Inside, the transport plane was massive—large enough to carry ten vehicle-mode Autobots and Decepticons. The low hum of the engines vibrated through the metal floor. Leandro's team sat on the right side, Cade's team on the left, separated by cargo crates and tactical gear.
Leandro leaned back in a folding seat, his cap pulled low over his eyes. He took a slow breath and finally pulled out his phone, which had been turned off for hours.
📱 13 Missed Calls – Isaac D.
He sighed and hit "Call Back."
The call connected immediately—Isaac's voice came through, urgent.
"Bro! Finally! You just turned your phone on now? I've been trying to reach you all day!"
Leandro sounded calm but alert.
"I'm on a transport. Headed for London. What's going on?"
Isaac's tone was tense.
"I just accessed the Spark sensor archives—there's a wild anomaly showing up. A Spark signal… from Leonardo."
Leandro froze for a second.
"Leonardo? Our little brother?"
Isaac was clearly working on something in the background, fingers clacking on a keyboard.
"Yeah! But it's not just any Spark. It's showing traces similar to Necrotron… but more controlled. Like it's merged with his biology, not just clinging to it. I don't even know how that's possible."
Leandro stood slowly, catching Bumblebee's attention from across the cabin.
He clenched the phone tighter.
"Are you sure it's not a sensor glitch?"
Isaac's voice dropped into a near whisper.
"Sensors don't lie, bro. And the last known location of the signal? London. Near Stonehenge. I think he's involved—deeply."
Leandro stared at the floor of the aircraft, jaw tightening.
"If that's true… he's not just skipping class. He's hiding something big."
From behind, Ironhide leaned off the wall and looked over.
"Something wrong?"
Leandro nodded slowly.
"What we're looking for in London… may have already found my brother first."
🏠 London – The DelaVega Family Home
In a cozy but messy living room, Leonardo sat lazily on the couch, munching on a piece of jam toast. The TV blared with a loud reality show. One sock was lying on the floor, his jacket carelessly thrown over a chair.
WHUMP!
A couch pillow smacked him in the face.
"You lazy bum!" his mother shouted from the kitchen.
Leonardo just chuckled, mouth still full. "Nice throw, Mom."
His mom stormed into the room, dressed in work clothes, clearly annoyed.
"I heard you caused trouble at the company last week. My company."
Leonardo glanced to the side, then shoved the rest of the toast into his mouth with casual indifference.
"I'm serious, Leo. I had to apologize to my supervisor because of you. You snuck into the server room—again."
Leonardo stood up, wiping crumbs on his cargo pants.
"It was just an observation run, Mom. They freaked out. Not my fault their system's fragile."
She stared at him, arms crossed, but he just smiled and started heading up the stairs.
"And please, stop comparing me to Leandro. I'm not into his alien drama."
His mom sighed deeply but said nothing.
🪞 Leonardo's Room – Moments Later
Leonardo stood in front of a tall mirror, hoodie half-off his shoulders. On the left side of his chest, something dark and alien was stuck—like a half-formed crystal shard, pulsing faintly with a purplish light.
He winced and tried to pry it off using a small clamp tool.
"Damn it… You were just supposed to be scanned yesterday. Now you're fused to me."
He tilted his head, eyeing the thing in the mirror.
"Whatever you are… you're definitely not from Earth."
The glow pulsed stronger. He quickly zipped up his golden brown hoodie, hiding the shard, then slipped on a pair of worn cargo pants and old sneakers covered in doodles and marker scribbles.
Leonardo grabbed his keys.
"Enough staring. I need air."
🏛️ Stonehenge – Morning
The ancient stone circle stood wrapped in mist. The morning air was dense… as if the earth was holding its breath.
A military helicopter descended just beyond the site. Troops disembarked first, securing the area, followed by Colonel William Lennox—his face older, more weathered, but still sharp. He wore a sleek black tactical uniform and moved with quiet authority.
Behind him, a technician hauled a Spark signature scanner.
Lennox paused, looking up at the looming stones.
"This place again…"
He turned to the nearest soldier.
"Lock the perimeter. No press, no drones, and absolutely no contact with the Autobots. If anyone so much as mentions Cybertron, they report to me—not Washington."
The soldier gave a firm nod.
Lennox exhaled slowly, under his breath.
"I swear, if Cade or Leandro show up… this whole thing goes nuclear."
🏠 Noah's Apartment – Late Afternoon
Inside the small back room he'd converted into a makeshift lab, Noah stood alone. The space was dimly lit, humming with old G.I. tech salvaged from past missions. At the center was a sleek energy panel—a Spark interface board designed for experimental containment.
From his jacket, Noah pulled out the small, sealed packet containing the Spark ash he had taken from Area 19.
"No one's gonna miss a little stardust," he muttered.
Carefully, he unsealed the packet and sprinkled the fine, shimmering ash into the panel.
📍 Panel scanning… Spark signature detected… 📈 Warning: Energy levels rising… unstable...
Suddenly, the lights flickered.
WHUUMMM!
The panel vibrated. Power surged. A low whine filled the room as the Spark ash started to swirl—magnetizing, pulsing, alive.
"Whoa—wait, WAIT!"
Cables sparked. The console trembled. The ash began to merge, forming a hazy, unstable shape—almost like a pulse of energy with a mind of its own. Blue light flashed—then orange—then flickered into deep, corrupted violet.
Noah stumbled back, shielding his face.
"Mirage…?"
Then—
POOF!
A small explosion of smoke burst from the panel. Noah hit the floor hard. He coughed, waving away the smoke.
"Okay… that went badly."
But then… from within the haze…
A voice.
Vhhzz... t-chkk… zzzt...
Glitchy. Fragmented. But unmistakable.
📻 "...N...Noah... what... happened to me?"
Noah froze, his eyes wide.
"Mirage?!"
The energy on the panel pulsed again, dim… unstable… but there.
📻 "I… remember pain. Fire. But you were safe… so I let go…"
Noah's breath caught in his throat. A faint silhouette began to form—like a ghost made of light and memory. Not fully physical. Not fully alive.
But it was Mirage.
A spark echo. Half-formed.
📻 "Noah… where… are we?"
Noah knelt closer, voice soft but shaking.
"We're home, bro. I got you."
He stared into the energy swirling above the panel, determined.
"And I swear—I'm bringing you all the way back."