Chapter Text
“Crrrreeeeak!”
A door of a warehouse opened, a yellow metal head cautiously poked out, scanning the wasteland beyond. Nothing moved, only the ruins left behind by the war.
“Clear”, the yellow bot said before stepping outside.
Another robot followed, carrying several cubes of energon, he was a white-armored, green-and-red-striped mech with glowing head-fins and rugged, experiment-scarred plating.
“After the war, energon’s became a nightmare to find,” he muttered. “Scarcer every cycle”
“At least we found these, Wheeljack” The yellow bot replied with a grateful smile.
“You’re always so optimistic, Bumblebee,” said Wheeljack, shaking his head. “But remember, our energon reserves on Ark will only last two stellar cycles, if we can’t locate the Allspark somewhere in that endless void…we’ll run dry. All of us.”
“Can’t worry about that now,” Bumblebee answered. “Let’s get back to Ark”.
Wheeljack handed all the energon cubes to Bumblebee before transforming himself into his vehicle mode—a white Cybertronian van.
“Load up!” He called.
Bumblebee stacked the energon cubes neatly into Wheeljack’s trunk, then he transformed himself into a sleek yellow Cybertronian racer.
“Prime will be glad to see us.”
The two vehicles sped along the streets of lacon. The once crowded avenues had become a silent wasteland, swallowed by darkness. Bumblebee felt his thoughts slipping back into old memories. Before the war, Iacon had been one of the brightest and busiest districts on Cybertron. He used to race down these streets with Hot Rod–though he lost more often than not. However, everything that once was had turned into beautiful memories, now tinged with sorrow.
“I know your feelings, bee”, said Wheeljack. “I miss my days in the science department too. Before the war, I was a well-known famous cybertronian inventor, but when the war began, they gave me a blaster gun and turned me into a soldier.”
“We’re all soldiers now,” Bumblebee said as he glanced up at the sky. “What’s that?”
Without warning, several missiles streaked down toward them. Bumblebee and Wheeljack swerved harder, drifted out the blast zone just in time. The explosion shook the ground beneath them.
After a few moments, some tall armored soldiers dropped out of the sky, landed in a ring around the two vehicles. Those are seekers, the main air squad of the Decepticons.
Bumblebee and Wheeljack transformed into their robot modes, weapon drawn. Their optics locked onto the enemies.
“Well, well…”
A tall figure walked through the line of soldiers, wings flared like a shadow cutting across the rubble.
“Look what do we have here? Optimus’s little scout and his favorite weapon inventor.”
Bumblebee stiffened.
“Starscream…” he muttered.
Starscream lifted his arm, the null-ray cannon beneath it whining as it locked onto Bumblebee.
“If you want to survive, autobots,” Starscream hissed, his voice laced with cruel amusement, “tell me where the Ark is. Do that…and perhaps you’ll walk away from this.”
Wheeljack let out a short, humorless laugh.
“If you’re so desperate to find the Ark,” he shot back. “I guess that explains why you’re still trying so hard to prove to Megatron that you’re leadership material—though everyone knows you’re not.”
“How dare you!” Starscream roared, slamming his fist across Wheeljack’s face. The inventor crashed to the ground with a metallic thud.
“Finish them.” Starscream snarled as he turned away.
All the seekers raised their guns in perfect unison, their barrels trained on Bumblebee and the fallen Wheeljack.
Suddenly, a deep, rising rumble echoed across the street as a massive truck slowly approached.
“What’s that sound?” one of the seekers muttered–right before a growing light flared behind their formation.
“Fire!”
But, they have no time to react.
The roaring truck burst out of the darkness and plowed straight into them, crashing down some seekers.
With a thunderous crash, the vehicle skidded to a halt, then unfolded, transformed into robot mode. A towering red-and-blue figure stood up, his metal gleaming like freshly forged steel.
Starscream froze.
“Optimus Prime?” Starscream gasped, fear tightening his voice.
“Let them go, Starscream.” Optimus raised his gun in his hand, aiming it straight at Starscream
Starscream’s frame trembled for a moment, but pride forced him to lift his null-ray cannon and fire at Optimus’s head.
“Bang!”
Optimus tilted his head aside, the bullet past him in a flash of red energy.
“Fine,” he said coldly, reaching behind his back and drawing out of his axe. “Now let’s finish this.”
Three seekers charged forward. The first one shot at Optimus, but only to be cut down in a single, clean arc of Prime’s axe. Another seeker fired widely, but Optimus twisted aside, closed the distance in two steps, and slammed the seeker into the ground hard enough to crack the metal beneath them. The third one rushed behind. Optimus spun, his axe trailing a bright silver arc, and cleaved through the seeker’s weapon, then the seeker himself.
“Now,” Optimus said calmly. “Who’s next?”
Starscream’s optics widened, he understood immediately that the fight had turned against him.
“Seekers,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Retreat!”
All the seekers transformed themselves into jets and blasted into the sky.
“We will wait and see, Optimus Prime!” Starscream snarled before he transformed himself into jet mode and disappeared into the clouds.
Optimus retracted his axe, turned his body, looked at Bumblebee and Wheeljack.
“You two alright?” he asked, concerned in his voice.
“Don’t worry about us, Prime.” Bumblebee said with a small smile.
“Good,” Optimus nodded. “Now let’s head back to the Ark.”
The three autobots shifted back into their vehicle modes, engines rumbling to life before they sped off into the darkened ruins.
Soon, the three autobots arrived before the Ark. The Ark rested on the launch platform like a giant golden wedge of Cybertronian engineering. Its broad, angular hull swept forward in clean geometric lines, with raised command structures and sensor towers rising from the top. Heavy stabilizer fins and symmetrical engine blocks framed the ship’s rear, while recessed turrets and panel-lined surfaces gave it the unmistakable look of an Autobot flagship—massive, bright, and proud in its iconic amber-gold alloy.
While Optimus, Bumblebee and Wheeljack stopped at the entrance and transformed back into their robot modes. An alarm chimed as a red scanning beam swept across them.
“Hold. Scanning identity”.
After the system scanned the three autobots, it responded.
“Identity confirmation complete, Enter: Optimus Prime, Bumblebee, Wheeljack.”
And the door slid open, Optimus, Bumblebee and Wheeljack stepped inside the Ark’s corridor..
“Wheeljack, how’s the energon scavenging?” Prime asked.
“Not great, Prime,” Wheeljack admitted with a tired shake of his head. “Without Allspark, Cybertron can’t generate energons anymore, what we brought back today…is probably the last this planet left. Our storage on the Ark has already reached the limit of what we can still find out there.”
“At least you two have safely returned,” said Prime.
Soon, the three autobots walk into the main bridge of the Ark, where all the autobots gather together to welcome them back.
“You’re back, sir.” Ultra Magnus approached with Elita-one beside him.
“How's it going?” Elita asked, her tone carrying far more concern.
Optimus smiled faintly and glanced at Bumblebee and Wheeljack.
“Wheeljack and Bumblebee are safely returned, and they brought back some energon. Although it’s not much, the energon they retrieved—”
“I’m asking about you, Orion,” Elita cut in, stepping closer. “Are you hurt?”
For a moment, Prime’s expression softened.
Elita was not just one of his second commanders–she was his best childhood friend who had grown up with him under Alpha Trion's care, the one spark who had shared his earliest memories, fears and hopes.
“Don’t worry about me,” he said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I’m fine.”
“Prime,” Prowl stepped forward, the Autobots’ strategic officer (similar to chief of staff) .
“As you know, ever since Cybertron lost the Allspark, the planet’s condition has deteriorated day by day. We must make a decision quickly before Cybertron turns into a death world and none of us can survive.”
Prowl paused and continued speaking: “And if we delay the launch any longer, I am afraid the Ark’s energon reserves may not even last a full year at our current assumption rate–let alone sustain a search for the Allspark across deep space."
Optimus Prime lowered his head in thought for a moment, then looked at Ultra Magnus, Elita and the other autobots. These Autobots were all he had managed to gather after the Cybertronian War—every survivor he could find, included Ultra Magnus, Elita, Bumblebee, Ironhide, Ratchet, Jazz, Mirage, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Hound, Red Alert, Tracks, Smokescreen, Arcee, Moonracer, Firestar, Chromia, Hod Rod, Brawn, Huffer, Windcharger, Blaster, Perceptor, Wheeljack. Springer, Kup, Warpath, Blurr, Jetfire, Trailbreaker, Hoist, Grapple, Powerglide, Inferno, Grimelock, Slug, Sludge, Snarl, Swoop, Cliffjumper, Prowl, Silverstreak, Wheelie, Skids, Beachcomber, Cosmos, Windblade–and himself.
“Autobots,” Optimus said solemnly. “If you are all prepared, we will begin to launch now.”
He turned to Ironhide: “Ironhide, status on weapon systems?”
“Locked and loaded, Prime,” Ironhide replied with a firm nod.
“Good,” Optimus shifted his gaze to Perceptor. “Perceptor, the engines?”
“Engines are online, all systems operational, Optimus,” Perceptor reported.
“Good,” said Optimus, turning face to all the autobots. “Everyone, take your seats.”
Once every Autobot had settled into their positions, Optimus shifted his gaze to Jazz, seated at the pilot controls.
“You can start now, Jazz.”
“Got it,” Jazz replied with a confident nod. His finger danced across the console as he pressed the launch sequence. “Launching in 3, 2, 1, lift off!”
The launch platform trembled as the Ark’s engines roared to life, glowing with a rising golden frame. Dust and loose metal fragments rattled across the platform, blown outward by the gathering power beneath the ship.
KLANG-KLANG-KLANG!
Massive clamps released one after another with heavy metallic thuds until the Ark stood free, hovering the pillar of burning light.
Inside the command bridge, the autobots held onto their restraints as the vibrations grew stronger, the hum of the engines swelling into a thunderous roar that shook the very air.
“Autobots, hold on,” Optimus said and looked at the main viewscreen outside the ship, which was covered with flame when the Ark punched through the atmosphere.
Every autobots felt the shift as the gravity stabilizers engaged. Seats vibrated, metal creaked, and the great ship’s frame hummed a deep, resonant sound like metal titan awakening.
“Breaking atmosphere!” Jazz shouted over the rumble.
The shake eased, and the sky turned from dark blue to the cold black of space.
The Ark stabilized, and the engines burned steady.
Optimus Prime rose from the seat, looking at the Cybertron’s curved silhouette through the viewscreen–the homeland they were forced to leave behind.
“Autobots…” he said quietly, “we are now in space.”
He turned his gaze to Hound: “Hound, can you track the signal of the Allspark?”
“Yes, Prime,” Hound replied and pointed at the glowing mark on the screen.
“Good,” Prime nodded, then looked toward the pilot’s chair.
“Jazz, follow the signal.”
“Understood, sir.”
Optimus looked at the scenery of space outside the viewscreen, where the stars shimmered like distant shards of silver, scattered across the black ocean of the cosmos.
“Alpha Trion..” Prime murmured, his voice weighted with sorrow. “Forgive me.”
Elita understood instantly. She stepped closer to Optimus, placed her hand on his shoulder.
“Still thinking about the Allspark?” she asked softly. “None of this is your fault, Orion, everyone knows you launched the Allspark off Cybertron because you refused to let it fall into Megatron’s hands.”
“I know,” Optimus said softly. “But he believed the Cybertronian Empire would grow evr stronger, even more prosperous…and instead I launched our planet’s very core into this void. I nearly doomed the world he entrusted to me…”
He paused, unable to continue.
Elita stepped closer, her voice soft but steady.
“Orion,” she said, “Cybertron would already be gone if you hadn’t acted.”
She gently rested her hand along the side of his arm, watching his dim optics with her own.
“You saved the Allspark from Megatron, you saved all of us.”
Optimus didn’t answer, but his jaw tightened.
Elita continued:
“Remember what Alpha Trion taught us when we were kids? Leadership isn’t about choosing the perfect path. It’s about carrying the burden no one else can.”
Her expression softened.
“And you carried it longer and heavier than anyone.”
She leaned slightly closer.
“You didn’t ruin Cybertron, Megatron did. You only did what you had to, or none of us would be here,” Elita paused, looking at Optimus’s chest. “The matrix of leadership chose you for a reason, Primus’s choice is never accidental.”
For a moment, the two stood there in the dim lights–childhood companions who have survived everything.
Elita added gently.
“Let us share the weight, you don’t have to carry this alone.”
Prime looked at his best childhood friend, and nodded.
The Ark sailed forward, its golden hull glowing against the stars as it began its long journey into the unknown–toward the Allspark, hope, and survival.
Meanwhile, on Cybertron, a large purple spaceship named “Nemesis” docked at the launch platform, a large spaceship with tall, angular fins rose from its back, giving the vessel a predatory silhouette. Rows of darkened viewports and turret mounts lined its armored surface, while the forward section tapered into a sleek, dagger-like prow.
Inside the ship, a brutal interrogation was already underway in an interrogation room.
“Where is the Ark?”
Barricade tossed aside a severed arm and stared coldly at a white autobot whose right arm tore off at the shoulder.
“My name is Slammer, the artillery commander in the Autobot army. My–”
Knock Out picked up his spear and drove the tip into Slammer’s chest.
“Wrong answer,” Barricade said. “We know Optimus put a tracker on the Allspark before he launched it, and the Ark is the only ship capable of following that signal. Tell us where it is, and we will let you live.”
“My name…is Slammer…the artillery commander in the Autobot army…” Slammer repeated, “my…”
Knock Out twisted his spear deeper into Slammer’s chest, Slammer let out a brief scream of pain.
At that moment, the door to the interrogation chamber hissed open. A tall, gray figure stepped inside, radiating authority like a stormfront.
Barricade and Knock Out instantly straightened.
“Lord Megatron!”
They saluted at once.
Megatron looked from the two Decepticons to the broken Autobot restrained before them.
“Barricade,” he said with a flat, cold voice. “Report.”
“Lord Megatron,” said Barricade. “He’s still playing tough. Scrap, this bot’s got a jaw made of pure attitude.”
Megatron frowned.
“Continue,” he ordered. “Use whatever methods you deem necessary.”
“L-Lord Megatron..” Starscream entered, his posture tense and his voice trembling slightly.”
“Starscream,” Megatron said coldly. “I assume you’re here to report your failure again.”
Starscream lowered his gaze.
“You fool,” Megatron had already gotten used to the fact that Starscream often fails his missions. “Is this truly your best, Starscream? And you still imagine yourself worthy to lead the Decepticons? You can’t even organize a proper parade.”
“Lord Megatron,” another Decepticon member walked in, with his special electromagnetic sound, and a small metal avian stood on his arm.
“Soundwave, report,” said Megatron.
“Laserbeak has detected a ship silhouette in the upper atmosphere,” said Soundwave.
Laserbeak’s optics flashed, projecting the captured footage into the room.
Megatron studied the footage closely.
“So,” he murmured, a thin smile curling around his face. “That is most likely the Ark. Excellent, Soundwave.”
He turned toward Slammer, optics narrowing.
“If you won’t tell us where the Ark is,” Megatron said calmly. “Then perhaps your leader already has.”
“Never,” Slammer growled.
“You’re a brave warrior, you deserved a better death,” said Megatron. “But then again…”
In one swift motion, Megatron drew his sword and slashed downward. The strike split Slammer’s body cleanly in two, the pieces collapsing to the floor with a metallic crash.
Megatron didn’t spare the fallen autobot another glance.
“Inform Shockwave,” he ordered coldly. “Bring the engines online. We’re going after the Ark.
(Chapter 2 coming soon)