We saw not clearly nor understood,

But, yielding ourselves to the master-hand,

Each in his part as best he could,

We played it through as the author planned.

-- Alan Seeger.

****Characters of Soldaris and Sanctifica borrowed with permission from Merytneith's "Absolute Zero".**

Sinnertwin glanced up at the sky, tinted a bleeding reddish hue by the fading sun, and pursed his lips. He had never thought much about the cause before, not really. Such abstractions were, to him, a nuisance that unnecessarily cluttered a mind better suited for swift and decisive action. He had preferred to experience his life in the present, reflexively grasping at each moment as it came to him with no thought to the ramifications such decisions would inevitably create. It was a methodology that had suited him well for much of his existence.

Not that he really recalled much of his existence. He had to be honest with himself about that much. It had never occurred to him to wonder about the whos and whys of his creation. He had always been content with the implicit understanding that he was simply one part of a greater whole. His teammates had certainly never expressed any interest in delving into the truths of their origins. Perhaps that had been part of the problem, he wondered. How much value could he truly put on his life without a historical and cultural aspect to apply it to? Without some sense of belonging, some greater purpose for existence, then much, if not all, was without meaning.

He frowned suddenly and shook his head. It was difficult adjusting to such trains of thought. Such mental clarity would require some adjustments, he realized. In a way, it was ironic. The same neural inhibitors that denied him access to his transformation capabilities had also freed him from his subjugation to his baser instincts. He now had access to a greater level of introspection than he had ever before known and that, at times, unsettled him. Physically, his captors had chained him to a single-state existence and imprisoned him within the confines of a narrow pen, giving him only the barest essentials necessary for his continued functions. Mentally, however, they had freed him from his perpetual state of feral and instinctive reaction. Perhaps in his subjugation, he thought to himself, he had become more dangerous.

Far below him, just beyond the precipice he found himself resting on, a natural river flowed its way through a lush and verdant valley overflowing with carnivorous vines and thickly leaved jallal trees. Flush against its banks, numut vines sprawled their way across clusters of loreshi shrubs. The occasional verrin hawk nest could be seen adorning the highest crowns of the jallal branches and every now and then a splash of brilliant red and blue japuuar punctuated the otherwise vivid and uniform emerald of the foliage. While in his feral state, governed by instinct and a nature of impulse, such tenuous details would have eluded his mental grasp. Now, they assaulted his senses with an unadulterated urgency in ways he had never imagined were possible.

A muffled warble sounded from behind him and he glanced upwards in time to notice an Autobot approaching. "The Valley of Yen-el Tun. Magnificent, isn't it?" the Autobot asked. "An age of wonders on Zalanthas," he mused. "The era of the Empire of Man was a time of prosperity for the planet's natives. Before the coming of the Dragon." He held out his hand and Sinnertwin noticed for the first time the diminutive pad that he held. He ran his thumb across its surface and the landscape around the two of them flickered, shimmering and fading briefly before returning to view. Around him, Sinnertwin noticed, was an arid wasteland filled with barren outcroppings of rock and extensive swaths of sandy dunes. On the far horizon, broken and jagged mesas of reddish hued stone rose up over the desert like shadowed titans, silhouetted by Zalanthas' immense, crimson sun. "Zalanthas as it exists now," the Autobot told him. "After the Dragon's coming."

He sat down beside Sinnertwin, his optics reflecting the dullish red glare of the planet's red sun. "The sun," he told the Decepticon as he motioned upwards, "like the planet, is dying now. The natives attribute its decay to the Dragon, but you and I know the truth, Sinnertwin. Zalanthas was brought barren by the coming of the Decepticons. Like insatiable locusts they consumed the resources of the planet, abandoning it when they had taken their fill."

Sinnertwin nodded once. "Yes, Sinnertwin remember Zalanthas. Not like it." He shivered as he spoke, recalling the proliferation of rodent-like creatures that populated the planet.

The Autobot nodded as he watched his companion, his optics betraying little of what he felt as he spoke. "Perhaps, but Hun-gurrr enjoyed himself thoroughly." He motioned to the surrounding desert with an open palm. "His legacy testifies to that, doesn't it?"

Sinnertwin squinted as he glanced at the Autobot and then at his surroundings. The word legacy carried the hint of a meaning for him, but it hovered just beyond his mental grasp. Such concepts were still fresh and young within his psyche and he found such trains of thought difficult to navigate. "Sinnertwin think Hun-gurrr have fun. He eat lots."

"Yes," the Autobot mused, his voice soft and somewhat distant. To Sinnertwin, it sounded like the voice of nostalgia. "I know something of Decepticon appetite. I fought as a gladiator in their games for years at Polyhex and I was witness firsthand to the insatiable gluttony of Decepticon greed." He sifted his hand through the finely-grained, red sand beneath him, his tone growing hard. "Zalanthas is only one of many worlds that the Decepticons have ravaged for resources."

"You're in a fortunate position, Sinnertwin," he continued. "The Republic's new leadership has adopted a hard-line stance with regards to Decepticon terrorist activities. The previous administration's pacifistic policies of indefinite containment have proven ineffectual. Termination orders have become standard procedure for individuals such as yourself; ones that have proven themselves a threat to galactic peace." His optics flashed once, fading from a hazy blue to a vibrant crimson in shade. "But you, Sinnertwin, have information we need. It's not unlikely that you could secure for yourself a terminal release. A lifetime's existence on Cascade Steel, away from the frustrations of Autobot society, could be yours. You have only to give us what we want"

Sinnertwin sniffed once, shifting uncomfortably next to the Autobot. "You look like Autobot. You have squeaky voice like Autobot. You even wear sad little Autobot face. But Sinnertwin think you sound like Decepticon." He turned to face his Autobot companion. "Megatron say destroy enemies." He jabbed a finger towards the Autobot. "Galvatron say destroy enemies. Kick-Off say destroy enemies. Sinnertwin not see difference."

Kick-Off stared at the Decepticon for a long moment, watching the yellow and blue mech as it tried to digest the complexities of their conversation. "The underlying philosophies of our two races diverge on several key points," he said. "Such distinctions can be difficult to comprehend for one of limited cognitive abilities as yourself." He shrugged apologetically, though to Sinnertwin it was insincere and somewhat condescending. "None can hold that, at least, against you."

"You talk with big words to confuse him because you think Sinnertwin is stupid."

Kick-Off chuckled and shook his head. "Stupid is such an ugly word. You're not stupid, Sinnertwin, merely simple. But that could also work in your favor, should you cooperate. Unlike the Decepticons, we are not violent by nature." A dry, arid wind scoured up tumultuous sand-filled eddies that spidered across the sand dunes around them, assaulting their armored forms with silicate spatterings.

Sinnertwin allowed himself a brief interlude of introspection, aware that his companion would take it for an internal struggle to understand on his part. But he had risen far enough above the primal callings of his core to understand Kick-Off's approach. It was unlikely that he would much outlive the information the Autobots sought. Yet on the other hand, his current existence was an obscenity and filled him with a grotesque self-loathing. Would his demise really be something he should anticipate with dread? He wasn't so sure. In the end, it was not logic that he based his conclusion on but spite. No matter what end he would be brought to, he refused to give the Autobots any sort of satisfaction.

A soft keening disturbed his train of thought and he glanced over to Kick-Off in silence. The Autobot sighed and brushed a thumb across his pad. "A Prime has arrived for a tour of the facility, Kick-Off," a female voice said. "They've been escorted to the reception antechamber and are awaiting your presence."

Kick-Off scowled, his optics swirling from red to blue and back, and shook his head. "They weren't scheduled for at least another cycle. What do they want?"

"Unsure, Kick-Off. They seem impatient, so I would advise you to hurry," the voice said. Sinnertwin thought he detected a faint hint of amusement in it.

"Understood, Scalebreak. I'll be there shortly." Kick-Off thumbed his pad a second time and stood to his feet. "We'll talk again in awhile," he told the Decepticon. "In the meantime, enjoy the view." Chuckling to himself, he made his way back up the precipice and disappeared, leaving Sinnertwin alone once more.

A Prime, Sinnertwin mused. He couldn't recall the last time he'd encountered one; at least, not since Optimus had fallen among the ruins on Shalindra IV. He squinted, trying to recall the precipitous events that led to the Autobot commander's demise. Many of the details had been lost to the brutal inefficiency of his memory circuits, but a few sporadic images flashed across his neural network. Towering monuments, eidolons of a bygone era, had provided both sides of the conflict with the dangerous and deadly battleground on which they fought.

He had dim recollections of his comrades falling beside him as the Terrorcons made their final push, overrunning the Autobot fortifications in a fury of ravenous hunger. As a lesser mind in the gestalt link, Sinnertwin rarely retained any data Abominus' sensors recorded. But the battle with Computron had been a clash of unbridled savagery and there was little that the Terrocons excelled at more than savage, uncontained ferocity. He recalled with unusual clarity as Computron fell, separating into his component parts, and how Abominus shredded the fleeing Technobots with brutal efficiency. After Computron's demise, he once again slipped into the haze of instinct with only the reflexive satisfaction of rent metal and spilled energon seeping between his jaws.

Their plunge into the heart of the Autobot ranks must have been quick, though Sinnertwin often became lost to the boiling emotions of battle and was rarely able to keep track of the passing of time. But Shalindra IV was a peculiar exception. The demise of the most powerful of the Autobot gestalts gave the Decepticon authority a commanding boost and they met little true resistance as they approached Optimus Prime's location.

That clash he recalled all too well. The greatest and most powerful of the Autobot models ever created, Primes had always posed a great deal of difficulty for the Decepticon swarms. Optimus was no different. His mere presence bolstered the fleeing confidence of the Autobots and they rallied around their beloved commander with a ferocity rivaling that of the Terrorcons themselves. But with their numbers already depleted and Optimus badly damaged himself, their enthusiastic resistance was met with deadly resolve and soon Optimus stood alone, facing a host of battle-hardened Decepticon warriors.

A surge of hunger drifted through Sinnertwin as he recalled the fallen Prime. His chest ripped open and the Autobot matrix torn from its housing, Optimus Prime bore little resemblance to the intimidating antagonist that had frustrated the Decepticon armies for a millennium. For the first time since his imprisonment, Sinnertwin wondered at the shifting fortunes of his race.

A filtering hiss sifted across through his awareness, bringing him back from his drifting reverie. The red dunes surrounding him wavered, flickering in substance briefly before fading into the stark and barren metallic confines of his prison cell. Grimacing, Sinnertwin stood and turned to the cell door. Surprise washing across his face, he cocked his head. "Elita-One," he murmured.

The last remaining Autobot Prime stood silent in the doorway, her pale reddish plating standing out against the hard, coarse metallic gray of his cell walls. Standing in her presence for the first time, Sinnertwin admitted to himself that she was every bit as imposing as Optimus Prime had been. Though not as tall, nor nearly as armored, Elita-One had been a thorn in Decepticons' sides for as long as he could remember. Admittedly, that didn't mean much. His memory circuits were extremely limited in terms of the data they could process.

Still silent, the Prime stepped further into the room and two smaller Autobots filed in after her, though all three were still larger than Sinnertwin. The two had a vague familiarity to them and it dawned on him that they were likely from similar manufacturing lines. The smaller of the two, a reddish Autobot whose features were worn and calloused, leveled at him a rifle of a make Sinnertwin was unfamiliar with. "Do it, Sideswipe," Elita whispered.

Awareness dawned on Sinnertwin and instinctively his Decepticon instincts assumed control. He dropped into a crouch, tucking himself low as he shifted his weight and rolled to the side. The blast from the Autobot's weapon scattered harmlessly across the back of the cell. With little to defend himself with aside from his fists, Sinnertwin knew that he stood little chance of surviving. But the frustrations storming through his consciousness boiled within him, feeding the familiar frenzy of ages past that was once again beginning to consume him. Through the growing haze of battle lust he could feel the chilled metal of the floor beneath him as he lunged forward, extending himself upwards from his crouch. He funneled his weight into his shoulder, barreling it into the Autobot that had fired at him. Taken aback, the Autobot crumpled beneath his slight weight and they both collapsed into a tumultuous pile of kicking and gnashing limbs.

Fiery lances of pain pierced his shoulder and Sinnertwin reflexively jerked his arm backwards, smashing it into the knee of the Autobot behind him. The room was filled with a sharp cry of pain and he took advantage of the distraction to roll away from his opponent, tumbling to the side and pulling himself into a crouch a few feet away. The Autobot that had shot at him lay on the ground, his form hunched as he slowly made his way to his feet. The other, a yellow and black Autobot, leaned agaist the doorway cradling his damaged knee. Elita One stood still and to Sinnertwin she appeared unmoved by what had happened.

He shifted his optics, glancing across his cell to assess his situation. His attackers stood within the doorway, cutting off any avenue of escape. He was unarmed and without access to his transformation capabilities. His opponents were wounded, however slightly, and would soon recover. And then, he thought to himself, there was the fact that he stood in the presence of a Prime. They had come for his death and he was helpless to prevent it.

"Enough!" Elita One knelt beside the one she had called Sideswipe and lifted his rifle. "We don't have time to dance, Decepticon." He cocked his head to the side slightly, an emerging sense of confusion creeping into his thoughts. "It's time to go." She slid a latch across the rifle and squeezed the trigger.

Throughout the ages of his existence, Sinnertwin's reflexes and consciousness had been honed for combat. The primal savagery that was at the core of his matrix had gifted him with uncanny prowess that he had used to full advantage during the Great Wars. But his time at Cascade Steel had dulled them, even if only slightly, and the aim of a Prime was rarely below reproach. The bolt of energy sizzled through the air, striking him in the center of his chassis. The concussion of the blast lifted him off of his feet and sent him crashing into the unyielding walls of his cell. But, much to his surprise, he still functioned.

A groan escaped him before he could suppress it and he tried to roll and push himself to his feet. When no response came, he tried again and met with similar results. The Prime allowed herself a faint smile as Sinnertwin at last became truly aware of his situation. The blast that the Autobot had fired at him had not been meant to kill him but to neutralize him.

"Relax, Sinnertwin. I'm not here to terminate you, but I don't have time to coddle you either." She motioned to her two companions and between the two of them, they lifted the paralyzed Decepticon to his feet. "It's time we made ourselves scarce."

Their flight through the prison cells of Cascade Steel was hurried and Sinnertwin's optics soaked in every detail of the chaotic scene unfolding before him. The numerous cells that lined the corridors had been opened, their occupants spilling out into the hallways. Most wandered about appearing lost in a confused haze, shuffling and staring at each other. A small number, and Sinnertwin thought he could count no more than a handful, had latched on to the reality of what was happening about them and took advantage of it to mercilessly tore apart the apparently paralyzed Autobot guardians that lay helpless on the floors. The few that had the temerity to approach their group as they fled were dealt with by concise blows from the Prime and scattered rifle fire from the two Autobots supporting him.

Shrieks and curses filled the hallways, barely discernible above the clash of alloy and the life and death struggles of the prisoners. To his increasing surprise, Sinnertwin discovered that though the majority of the prisoners were Decepticon detainees, there were more than a few Autobot occupants that had joined in the efforts to flee their imprisonment. He could only wonder at what crimes they had committed that would culminate in their banishment from Autobot society.

Dull light, tainted red by the crimson stain of the rooftop windows, bathed the unfolding chaos below in a malevolent, bloodish hue. The flickering lights above each cell doorway flashed alternating colors of blue and silver, rotating in a clockwork pattern of colors that Sinnertwin found unsettlingly comforting. "This way," Elita shouted over the growing din as she motioned to a side door. The group ducked through it into a hallway, leaving the tumultuous din of fighting behind them. The walls here were not as bare as those of the cell block, with more than a few scattered digital images laced along the walls, great heroes and Primes of Cybertron's history. The alloy of the walls here was a slate, pale gray and the floors were composed of the same material, though they lacked even the slightest decoration. Occasionally a narrow crack could be spotted, thin spidery tendrils weaving their way across the ground. Cascade Steel was ancient, beyond a doubt. Several millions of years old at least, Sinnertwin surmised. He had heard stories during his stay here, stories that told of the civilization that had built the massive complex the Autobots now used to house their prisoners of war. From beyond, the muted sounds of conflict could still be heard, echoing throughout the corridors and filling his receptors with a dull, monotonous clamor.

The corridor snaked and curved, with numerous side corridors branching off in more directions than Sinnertwin was able to count. He had long since lost his way, but the Prime seemed confident of herself and maneuvered throughout the twisting maze with a deft surety of stride. Unease swept through him as he tried to divine the motives of these Autobots, who seemed to at least be superficially opposed to the mainstream Autobot methodology. The very thought that they would leave their kindred to be systematically dismantled by Decepticon prisoners, prisoners that they themselves had unleashed, was an unlikely abstraction become reality and he was unsure of how to interpret it. He lived, for the moment at least, while their comrades were left abandoned and merciless to Decepticon vengeance. His head hurt and he found himself nostalgic for the ethereal nature of his previous consciousness.

The walls had become increasingly bare the deeper they delved into the catacombs beneath the Autobot facilities. The images that had decorated the walls of the corridor, images of fallen Autobot heroes and great Primes of old, had disappeared and the walls themselves had become more earthen in tone, the cold and barrenness of the metallic alloy yielding to the hardened clay and stone of the planet. A stagnant, almost fetid stench wafted through the tunnels they found themselves in, and Sinnertwin's sensors detected a faint hint of moisture. He surmised that they had passed beyond the confines of the prison but he found himself at a loss whenever he attempted to deduce their final destination. Reflexively, he attempted to move some of his limbs without much success. Whatever their plans, he was at the mercy of these rogue Autobots.

A chill hung across the tunnels, given life by the darkened dampness of the planet's subterranean networks. Sinnertwin's optics had long since adjusted to the absence of any true lighting and though he lacked the capability of autonomous movement, he could feel the soil beneath his feet as the two smaller Autobots set him down. It was loose, made even more so by the variety of plant roots that had twined themselves throughout the earth, and he could detect the faint movement of organisms that fled their hurried pace. Mottled slugs and a variety of heavily shelled insects scurried to secure refuge within the shelter of the soil. "Not much further." The Prime's voice, though soft, seemed to echo throughout the sprawls of the tunnels. She paused for a moment, her optics narrowing in thought as they approached one of the many intersections they had crossed. For the first time, Sinnertwin thought the Prime unit looked unsure of herself.

"The signal's distorted," she said to the two Autobots behind her. "I'm only picking up a fraction of it and that's not enough for me to be certain of the path we should take." The two Autobots that had been holding him upright dropped him to the ground and walked over to Elita-One, glancing between the two separate tunnels and her. Sinnertwin shifted slightly, delighted and surprised to discover that he was regaining a small amount of motor control. Not enough, certainly, to mount an escape or even put up any sort of resistance. But it was a positive step in the right direction. "Something down here is creating a strong interference."

The Terrorcons had never been the most cerebral of fighters, but the concept of isolating an enemy from his support structures was, at its core, a primal instinct and there were few things the Terrorcons excelled at more. Whatever, or just as likely whoever, was creating this interference was cutting them off from their guide. Come what may, it appeared that Sinnertwin's unlikely cadre was on its own.

"So what's the verdict then, Elita? Returning to the surface obviously isn't an option. But then again, I'm not terribly keen on attempting a blind navigation of this rats' nest of tunnels down here." The Prime unit shot the smaller, red Autobot a sour glance.

"After all these years, you still haven't learned any patience." She shook her head and turned back to look at Sinnertwin. "We've put ourselves at enormous risk to rescue you, Decepticon. Do you understand that?" She crouched down in front of him, her hands on her knees, and leaned close. Despite the almost overwhelming darkness of the tunnels, Sinnertwin could make out the faint, web-like fractures that cracked across the surface of her skullplate. She was very, very old. "We stand to lose quite a bit if the Protectorate discovers our role in your escape." She sighed and lowered her head for a moment, her shoulders sagging as she spoke. "And we've already lost so much as it is." She stood and once again Sinnertwin felt very small in her presence. "Primus grant us that you're worth it all."

His glance shifted between the Prime and her companions. Since his awakening, the Autobots had developed a peculiar fixation with him. They had never told him. His cognitive abilities had evolved to the point that he understood that they were only hinting at what they wanted in their visits. Suddenly, amidst the fetid dampness of the subterranean tunnels and in the company of enemies he had fought since his creation, Sinnertwin understood why he had been kept alive since his awakening. "Stormbringer," he croaked.
Elita-One shot him a glance and, for a moment, Sinnertwin thought he saw a flicker of relief wash across her face. "Yes," she told him. "But that will come later. For now, we need to make sure we live to understand." She glanced at the intersection in front of them and then turned to look back at the tunnels they had emerged from. "Slag and ashes," she muttered. "Where in Primus' name is she?"

A soft chitter could be heard from one of the side tunnels and the entire group snapped their weapons towards the sound. "Hey, relax!" A slender, chromed mech stepped out of the shadows and winked at Sinnertwin. "I'm not a combat model like the three of you. Those things are likely to melt me into slag!" Sinnertwin stared at her, drinking her form in. She was slender and diminutive and he thought that under normal circumstances she would be almost forgettable, easily lost amid a crowd. But here and now, there was something about her that tantalized the outermost edges of his consciousness.

"Unlikely," the Prime said quietly. Sinnertwin sensed some uneasiness between the two female mechs, but he couldn't make out the source. "We lost our signal. Is there something we need to be aware of?" Elita-One traced a thumb across the edge of her blaster and kept her gaze steady on the newcomer.

She smiled brightly at Elita and shook her head. "There's some sort of crystalline compound in the soil this far underground. For whatever reason, it's playing havoc with the signal. I found out about it when I made it to the rendezvous point, so I thought I'd come looking for you."

"Thoughtful," Sideswipe muttered. He shuffled towards one of the corridors and shook his head. "This place is a nightmare. How the frag do you even navigate down here? I got myself lost about seventeen clicks ago." The mech winked and smiled at him.

"We've wasted enough time. I'm sure that Thunderclash already has our distraction put down. I don't for a second think his minions will be far behind us," Elita-One said. She motioned to her companions and together they heaved Sinnertwin into the air. Flicking the blaster towards the newcomer, she motioned for her to move on into the darkness.

The smaller female's stride was sure and deft and again Sinnertwin found himself lost amid a maze of darkness, his inner sensors having lost track of the numerous twists and turns of the underground tunnels. Occasionally, a soft glow would light their paths and Sinnertwin's sensors took in an array of crystalline structures, some of which did not appear to have formed naturally. Many of them emitted a soft bluish light that pulsed softly.

"So this is the last weapon of Thetiset?" Their guide cast a curious look at Sinnertwin, though the question was obviously directed towards the Prime. Sinnertwin had never heard of Thetiset.

Elita-One nodded agreement. "It would seem so." She looked at her companions, her gaze passing between them before trailing back behind them. "Is it much further? I have an uneasy feeling about this."

The mech nodded and winked. "Not much further." Sinnertwin thought to himself that the female's definition of close and that of most others were worlds apart. They continued their trek through the darkness, passing through the occasional tunnel bathed in that peculiar bluish glow, for what seemed an eternity to him.

At last she paused, catching the entire group by surprise. Only the Prime's quick reflexes stopped her from stumbling into their guide. "Slag, girl! Are we here then?"

Their guide nodded. For the first time, Sinnertwin noticed that the tunnels had changed again. The earthen soil had receded and had been replaced by some unique, crystalline silicate. He even thought he could make out some sort of intricate etchings in the walls. "We should be safe. She doesn't believe the Protectorate is aware of the existence of this place." She paused and traced a finger along a particular pattern on the nearest wall. Immediately, the wall to her left shifted, phasing into an almost ethereal ghostliness before shimmering and disappearing. "She only discovered this place by accident. We almost couldn't believe our good luck. Come on!" She patted Elita-One on the shoulder and stepped into the opening. The small group of Autobots followed her lead, with Sinnertwin still draped over the shoulder of the red Autobot.

"Put him down, Sideswipe. His motor reflexes should be returning by now. I think he can walk on his own." Sideswipe nodded silently to the Prime and tossed him unceremoniously to the ground. Sinnertwin shot the Autobot a sour glance and then looked around. The sheer volume of the cavern he found himself in dwarfed all of the others they had passed. Large, twisting stalactites dripped from the cavern ceiling. Pulsating patterns of soft, bluish light spidered across their surface and even the walls of the cavern were filled with the same, bluish etchings. It was as if the very cavern itself was alive. Oddly enough, Sinnertwin noted to himself, the cavern was void of any sort of stalagmites.

The smaller female motioned them onward. "Here, let's go." Her waving drew Sinnertwin's attention towards the center of the cave. Towering almost to the ceiling and dominating everything within his vision, a twisting portal stood before them. He wasn't sure how he'd failed to notice the thing before. It seemed to be a half arc, though the way it had been designed seemed to defy what little Sinnertwin understood of physical laws and it caused a throbbing pain to course through his cerebral circuitry whenever he stared at it too long. On either side of the portal, carved into its very sides, were two bestial creatures. Each one seemed like something out of the worst part of every story and myth Sinnertwin had ever heard. They were almost an amalgamation of different parts, each one composed of asymetrical limbs and organs that had been glued together. The one thing the two creatures did have in common was their overwhelming sense of menace. Sinnertwin could feel the energon within him drop several degrees in temperature.

Their guide seemed to sense his uneasiness. "Yeah, we're not terribly sure what those are. She seems to believe that they're supposed to be some sort of guardian of the gateway or something." She shrugged as they all drew reluctantly closer. Turning her attention to a small pedestal just in front of the portal, she continued. "But for all we know, they might have just been examples of the race that created this. We really don't know too much about who and what they were."

"Junkions," Sideswipe spat.

She shook her head. "No, they're as ugly as Junkions but this predates any Cybertronians. It's horribly ancient."

"No," Sideswipe continued and pointed his weapon towards the cavern's entrance behind them. "Junkions."

Elita-One spun on her heels and raised her blaster. Standing in the entry way were four of the most beat-up and mismatched Autobots Sinnertwin had ever seen. The larger one, though, Sinnertwin knew better than to take for granted. Wreck-Gar had proven himself in battle time and again and Sinnertwin had no real desire to face him, not in his current condition; any other Junkion for that matter.

"Lucy! You got some "splainin' to do!" Wreck-Gar said, stepping forward casually and allowing his companions to spread out behind him. Sinnertwin glances around quickly, noting the complete lack of cover anywhere within the cavern. This was likely to get ugly quickly. For the first time since his imprisonment, he wished for his transformation capabilities back. What good is a clear head if you don't live to use it? Much better to die fighting, like a true Decepticon. Wreck-Gar tapped his rifle against his hip and walked in a slow, circular motion, his gaze flickering between the three Autobots, their guide, and Sinnertwin. Behind him, Sinnertwin could here the smaller female muttering to herself.

Elita-One shifted on her feet. "I've made my peace, Wreck-Gar. Can you say the same?" The Junkion leader smiled silently, continuing his pacing. "Thunderclash has lost sight of what it means to be an Autobot. He's become a Decepticon in all but name."

At that, Wreck-Gar paused and wagged a finger in her direction. When he spoke, his voice had taken on an odd, almost human, tone. "Tsk tsk! You are fooling yourself, Captain. Nothing here is what it seems. You are not the plucky hero, the Alliance is not an evil empire, and this is not the grand arena." He motioned to his comrades and they their weapons. "You're fighting a war you've already lost."

Elita-One's expression hardened. "Rakewing?"

The female mech snarled. "Fingers can't fly any faster!"

Sinnertwin could see the Prime's finger caressing the trigger of her blaster. Wreck-Gar just chuckled. "Come, Son of Jor-El! Kneel before Zod!" He dropped into a crouch, shifting his weight to the side and squeezed his trigger. Flashes of light erupted from the barrel of his gun and Sinnertwin was sent flying backwards.

Grimacing in pain, Sinnertwin pulled himself to his feet and found himself awash in a deep purple light. He looked up and the portal itself was filled with a shimmering, violet-hued energy. "We're a go! Hurry up!" the female mech squealed. Sinnertwin dove to the floor as several plasma bursts erupted just over his head. Around him he could see the Autobots dancing in battle, rolling across the cavern to avoid the deadly firefight. The red one, Sideswipe, was already on the ground. A smoking, sparking stub was all that remained of his head. For their part, the Junkions seemed unphased by the firefight. Two of them had taken hits, but Sinnertwin could already see their damaged armor repairing itself.

Elita-One stepped backwards towards the portal. "Move your metal rear, Sinnertwin. We didn't come this far so you could be turned into scrap metal!" Suddenly, the nearest three Junkions lunged at her. Elita-One sent one of them flying backwards with a blow from her weapon, but the other two thrust their shoulders into her and sent her flying back into the guide. They collapsed in a pile of limbs and snarls. Sinnertwin looked back. The yellow and black Autobot seemed to be holding his own against Wreck-Gar, but the Terrorcon knew that wouldn't last long. Wreck-Gar was a Junkion, perhaps the greatest of that race, while the other was merely an Autobot.

Sighing inwardly, Sinnertwin moved towards the pile and grabbed one of the Junkions by its head. His vocal processors letting out a primal roar, he twisted and ripped the Junkion's head off if it's body. It wouldn't kill the thing, but it should buy them some time. Her attention now focused on the one Junkion, Elita-One gripped her fingers beneath the seams in its neck armor and ripped its torso open. She rolled to her side and shoved her fist up into its skull, snarling as she ripped out circuitry and what remained of its personality component. She tossed the remaining hulk at the now-headless Junkion, causing it to stumble and collapse onto the floor.

It suddenly dawned on Sinnertwin that there was no more blaster fire. He looked up and saw the remaining Autobot now fighting Wreck-Gar and the remaining Junkion. Together, they'd tossed their weapons aside and were slowly destroying the Autobot. "Sunstreaker!" The Prime screamed and blasted at the two Junkions.

"Leave him!" Rakewing screamed. The room around them had begun to take on a greenish glow and she grabbed the Prime's arm. "Leave us, frag it! The Decepticon's all that matters at this point and you have to get him out of here."

Elita-One paused and looked down at her. The smaller female nodded and gave her a shove towards Sinnertwin. "Someone has to shut this thing down and I don't have a lot of time before they're finished with your friend. Hurry the slag up!"

Elita-One turned and grabbed Sinnertwin by the arm. "Let's go."

"Where we go?" Sinnertwin asked.

Stepping into the greenish light of the portal, Elita-One said, "Sanctifica." Sinnertwin twisted and caught one final glance of the short-lived battle behind him. The two Autobots lay motionless on the ground and the two remaining Junkions were walking slowly towards the one Elita-One had called Rakewing. Sinnertwin thought that he could almost make out a slight jaunt to Wreck-Gar's gait. Suddenly, around him the pool of greenish energy began to redshift and twist itself along the edges of the portal walls, finally swirling into a twisting vortex around him. Within the vortex Sinnertwin could make out a bright light, almost like the light of a blue star. He could feel himself being pulled towards it as if he was being pulled across a wire. Suddenly, the ball of blue light flashed and he felt his circuits stop, freeze ---

---And then resume.

A soft, pleasant glow surrounded him, no longer red or even green but more of a pale white. Like the walls and floor of the cavern they had left, the silicate seemed to be etched and filled with thin, veins of wiring. Only instead of blue, these seemed to be composed of a fluid silver. "Where we are?" Sinnertwin turned and looked at the oval chamber around him. Standing on the opposite end of the room was a slender, unassuming monochromatic mech. Aside from the violet of his optics, he was a uniform silver in color.

"Sanctifica," the mech replied. "And my name is Sodalis. Welcome, Elita-One."

Elita-One cross the distance of the room in seconds, her fists clinched at her side. "We have to go back! The Junkions will make short work of them!"

Sodalis shook his head and motioned to a group of mechs that had just entered the room. Like Sodalis, they too were mostly silver and white. "If they are still alive, which is unlikely, there is nothing that you can do. The Junkions will have repaired what damage you had done to their systems. I doubt that even a Prime could survive the assault of four Junkions, not alone. That the portal no longer glows indicates that Rakewing has deactivated it on the other side. She has done her job and now you must do yours." He nodded his head in Sinnertwin's direction and the Prime's shoulders visibly slumped. Sodalis cocked his head and looked at her. "She awaits the two of you." He motioned towards a door with his hand and the Autobot and Decepticon fell in behind him.

Sinnertwin glanced at the group of mechs as they passed and it suddenly occurred to him why he had found something odd about Rakewing. Like these mechs here, and like the silvery one they were following, she lacked the faction insignia that the Autobots and Decepticons so proudly wore. In fact, he could not recall seeing any sign of faction allegiance on her at all. "You not Autobot. Not Decepticon either."

Sodalis nodded once and spoke. "That's correct. We are neither anymore." He stopped just in front of a large, vessel-like craft. Attached to its side was some sort of elevator-looking device. "This will take you inside." With that, he gave a slight bow of his head and then turned and left.

Alone, Elita-One looked down at the smaller Decepticon. "Let's go," she told him. The door to the elevator slid open and they both stepped inside. Elita-One pressed a control panel and immediately the ship around them came to life, plunging downwards into the heart of the planet. Around him, Sinnertwin could see the layers of the planet as they sped by. Each level seemed to be threaded with the same pulsing, spidery wiring that he had seen on the surface. He blinked and looked up at Elita-One. Something was familiar about this place.

They rode in silence and when the elevator finally came to a stop, Elita-One reached out and pushed the green button next to the door. Immediately, it hissed open and they stepped out into a large cavern. Running the length of the walls were large, thick metal pillars. These, too, had been etched and their wirings glowed a pale blue. The balcony they stood on curved around the length of the cavern and a walkway led straight out into the center where a pulsing, spided sphere hung suspended by a series of wires and metal supports. "We're here, Sinnertwin."

The small Decepticon sniffed. The air smelled fresh, though without the familiar taint of Cybertronian alloys. "You not kill Sinnertwin. Your Autobot friends fight other Autobots. You not Decepticon, though. Why you save Sinnertwin?"

Elita looked down at him, her optics burning a deep crimson. It was some time before she spoke and when she did, Sinnertwin almost felt like he could sense a tremendous sorrow in her voice. "Because the Autobots are broken and you're the only one that knows how to save them."

She closed her eyes for a moment and then turned and made her way across the walkway towards the sphere. Puzzled, Sinnertwin followed. As they approached the sphere it began to glow a variety of iridescent colors. "Welcome, Elita-One. Welcome, Sinnertwin." The voice filled his receptors, but Sinnertwin was unable to locate its source. Disturbingly, it sounded strangely familiar to him.

"Who you?" Sinnertwin thought to himself that he should be feeling some sense of anxiety. It wasn't often that your world gets turned upside down, but that's exactly what had happened to him. He had been rescued by a small group of Autobots, and a Prime at that, who had left several of their own to be dismantled by Decepticon prisoners. He had watched as they fought a group of their own; watched as the two groups dismantled each other with a ferocity that would have suited a Terrorcon. He had watched as a Prime left her companions to be destroyed while she took a Decepticon to sanctuary. The world had gone mad.

"I am Sanctifica. As Vector Sigma was, so I am." Sinnertwin thought he sensed a twinge of amusement in the voice. "Why have you come?"

Sinnertwin blinked and glanced uncertainly at Elita-One. The Prime stood before the sphere defiantly. "Sinnertwin is the key to the Autobot's hopes; maybe the hopes of the entire galaxy. We need to know what happened to the Stormbringer."

The sphere shimmered, its candescence changing from a liquid gold to that of a more pure silver. The disembodied voice spoke again. "Step forward, Decepticon." A portion of Sinnertwin's consciousness balked at his situation, snarling to him that he should refuse. The Autobot's problems were their own and, after all, it was they that had kept him imprisoned in his cell and his body. What did he care if they consumed each other in their zeal? But a new calling within him stepped forward, one less primal. Logically, he knew there was no other option. Whatever the outcome, fate had intertwined his life with the Prime's. Where she fell, so too would he. Resigned, he stepped towards the sphere. At once, a blinding light erupted from the glode and a beam of silvery light shot out, striking him in the forehead. Sinnertwin cried out in surprise and within seconds, the room around him had disappeared. Only he and Elita-One remained.

Around them stood the vestiges of the surface of Shalindra IV and the haunted remains of fallen Cybertronian warriors. Autobot and Decepticon alike had fallen here and their bodies numbered in the millions. Elita-One stepped forward slightly, her eyes widening only for a brief moment. "This is it," she whispered. "The last battle of the Second Great War." She turned, her eyes drinking in the carnage around her. "We thought hope had been lost here; when Optimus fell."

She looked to Sinnertwin and then stared up at the sky. "What does this have to do with anything? Why are you showing us this?" Her voice cracked with anger and emotion.

"This is the beginning of the end," the now familiar voice spoke. To Sinnertwin, it seemed to be coming from the planet itself. "For the renewal of hope, you must understand the past." A shriek pierced the air and the two Cybertronians looked up. Above them, a sleek purple warship descended from the cloud-covered skies. To Sinnertwin, to distinguish between the planet's normal cloud cover, which left the skies a barren and void gray, and the heaping pollution coughed up by the wounds the Cybertronian factions had inflicted on the planet was impossible. Shalindra IV could never have called itself a planet teeming with vitality and now it never could. Even the smallest spark of life had been crushed here.

As the warship descended, the two companions could make out a group of Decepticon warriors approaching the ships. At the forefront of the group, Cyclonus and Soundwave walked side by side. Neither looked healthy. In fact, they both looked barely alive. Elita-One couldn't hear any of the normal Decepticon banter that accompanied one of their victories and to her eyes the only one with anything resembling enthusiasm was a small, yellow Terrorcon at the rear of the group. The warship touched down and as the group approached, a lift descended carrying the supreme Decepticon commander.

Elita-One had not been there that day, a fact she had regretted in the long years since the conclusion of the war, but she thought that Galvatron had not looked much different than the last time she had seen him. He still stood with that aura of confidence and sublime arrogance and even now she felt the urge to rip out his optics. That Cyclonus carried in his hands the severed head of her friend, her confidante, and her soul-brother only reinforced her pain and anguish. A cry escaped her lips when he presented Optimus' head to Galvatron and her optics burned when a smug grin spread across the Decepticon leader's face.

Their surroundings dimmed, faded, and when they returned both Elita-One and Sinnertwin were aboard the warship. Surrounding them, the remaining Decepticons slowly shuffled deeper into the bowels of the vessel. The lift ascended and Shalindra IV vanished into darkness. "This was the last recorded sighting of the Stormbringer. When it lifted off from here, it disappeared along with the rest of the Decepticon High Command." She turned to Sinnertwin. "Along with Optimus, along with you. For seven million years our forces searched the galaxy with no success. It was as if the vessel had simply ceased to exist."

Sinnertwin looked around himself, shifting uneasily. The ramp they stood on was familiar, sure enough. He had been aboard the Stormbringer enough times to become well acquainted with it and with his limited memory capacity that was a testament to how often he had flown as a passenger on the Decepticon flagship. But there was something not right about this time, something that made him uneasy. He looked to Elita-One. "You think you find out where ship go this time." She nodded once and turned to look around. As she did, their surroundings dimmed, faded, and when they returned the two Cybertronians were back within the cavern, standing on the walkway in front of the crystal-spiked sphere.

"No!" Elita-One cried out. "No, take us back! We were so close!"

The sphere pulsed, shimmering between silver and violet, and the voice spoke again. "What you saw was taken from the Decepticon's memories. There is nothing more to be seen."

"Then how has that helped me? How has that helped us? We already knew all of this! Nothing has changed!" Her fists clenched and Sinnertwin could hear the tightening of her body.

"But everything has changed. You have seen what you need to begin. There is nothing more to be learned here."

A cry of frustration erupted from her throat and the Prime lifted her blaster, pointing it at Sinnertwin. "Tell me! Why were you the only one aboard when the Stormbringer reappeared! What happened to the rest of the crew?"

Sinnertwin cast a glance over his shoulder, attempting to gauge how much room he had to avoid getting shot without tumbling off the catwalk and into the bowels of the cavern. While he might be able to survive the fall, it would be a long way down. He looked at Elita-One and remained silent.

"The Decepticon does not know." Sodalis' voice was unexpected enough that Elita-One lowered her weapon and turned as the silvery mech crossed the walkway towards them. "But he is the key. Shooting him would be unwise."

"You have seen what you need, Elita-One. What memories he does have of that day have proven themselves enough. Your path has been laid out before you."

Elita-One looked at the sphere and then turned to Sinnertwin. "Earth," she said. "Galvatron was taking his trophy back to earth." Sinnertwin said nothing. She walked towards him and jabbed a finger into his forehead. "That means I'm following him and you," she thwacked him lightly with her finger, "are coming along."

"Indeed," Sodalis said. "A ship awaits you. Four of our people will accompany you on your journey. But we must hurry." His violet optics shimmered, changing to almost a crimson hue for a very brief moment.

The disembodied voice spoke again. "The Autobot forces have arrived. Your time is short."

Elita-One looked up, clearly startled. "They found us? Here? But I thought you said Rakewing shut down the portal."

Sodalis merely shrugged. "They did not arrive through the portal. Come, though. Time is short."

Elita-One hesitated. "But what of you? I've already left so many behind. I'm not anxious to leave any others as well."

The sphere glowed brighter and to Sinnertwin's senses it appeared as if its voice carried a hint of anticipation and excitement. "We are not without our defenses, Autobot. Sodalis will show you to your vessel."

Elita-One cast a glance towards Sinnertwin and then to the sphere. For his part, Sinnertwin was reluctant to leave. Already his systems seemed to have regained their full functionality and the Terrorcon instincts within him had begun to crave the thought of battle. But if the sphere, odd as it was, turned out to be right perhaps there would be greater battles to be fought. Perhaps he could be reunited with his brothers and made whole. For all the intellectual capacity he had gained while imprisoned, a small portion of him seemed incomplete in isolation. Free of the confines of the walls, that incompleteness seemed magnified. Without hesitation, he followed the Autobot Prime down the catwalk towards the elevator.
To his surprise, though, they did not return the way they had come. Instead of ascending, the elevator continued its descent. For what seemed an eon, they rode behind Sodalis in silence. Finally, though, the elevator shifted and came to a stop. The doors hissed open and Sinnertwin found himself in front of a large, sleek and silvery ship. The design was more fluid than anything Sinnertwin had seen and it was almost impossible to make out any seam or bolt along the vessel's surface. A lift had descended from the ship's belly and on either side stood four of the odd looking mechs. All four were composed of the same silver plating, but masks that adorned their faces were a variety of different colors in hue.

"You must hurry. These four will take you where you need to go." Sodalis turned and looked at Sinnertwin, and the Decepticon thought he sensed a slight recognition in the other mech's optics. Without saying anything else, Sodalis turned and left. With only the four mechs for company, who showed no inclination to speak, Sinnertwin and Elita-One boarded the ship in silence. Once in the cockpit, they sat just behind the four and stared out of the viewer. The planet's surface, adorned with rising silicate spires and intricately crafted highrises, unfolded before them. Their pilots maneuvered the ship off the ground, its bulk almost weightless as it tore through the atmosphere. Once past the planet's gravitational well, Sinnertwin watched as a familiar vortex appeared around them. Sinnertwin felt himself, along with the ship, pulled towards the brightest center of the vortex. A white light engulfed him and his circuits froze.

In the eternity of the second it took for his circuits to freeze and then resume, Sinnertwin contemplated the shifting fortunes of his fate. His awakening had been many mega-cycles ago and he had long since lost count. In that time he had often thought to himself that he would shortly be walking the pathways of the dead. To his regret, it had never come. He sat here now, beside one that fate had determined to be his mortal enemy. Except she wasn't; not in the real sense of the word. He understood her loss, the despair and grief that flooded her circuits. There would never be compassion between the two of them, of that he was certain. But she was no longer a faceless enemy to be disposed of; no longer a mythic warrior. She was real, broken, a soldier who had seen the worst scars in the universe and who had lived to march on. Earth awaited them and perhaps she would find the answers she sought. Perhaps he would as well.