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Once there were three brothers, Seekers all. Thundercracker had a level head, Skywarp had a cheerful demeanor, and Starscream had a tongue sharp as a knife, which he wielded freely. In flight he was unmatched; he often offered advice to his brothers, if remarks like "Try not to fly like a grounder with wings welded on" and "You call that a landing?" can be considered advice. Likewise the other Seekers got an earful of whatever might be on Starscream's mind, whether they'd asked or not.
"Excuse you, Sunstorm," he said one day as the Seekers bustled about, readying for battle, "but do you think you can clear your worthless aft off the airstrip?"
"I'm busy," the yellow Seeker said.
"Busy doing what?" Starscream moved closer, eyeing the complicated, flower-like pattern that Sunstorm was deftly weaving with thin silver wire. "What's this mess?"
"It's a Ritual of Blessing, revealed to me in the Covenant of Primus." Sunstorm lifted his optics to the sky as he clasped his hands together. "Our glorious creator shall lend strength to my weapons! Far more than the unworthy could achieve," he added with a pointed look.
"Oops." Starscream kicked, turning the delicate pattern into a meaningless tangle of wires. "My unworthy foot slipped."
The battle started off well that day. Starscream sped through the sky flanked by his brothers. Skywarp, who was easily distracted and could teleport away in an instant, had been given strict instructions to stick by Starscream's left wing no matter what. The three jets were a sight, in perfect formation as their wings cut through the rising smoke. The other trines swept along beside them, lighting up the murk as they strafed the battlefield.
Then, with a terrible boom, a shell punched through Sunstorm's wing. As he screamed and tumbled Starscream spotted the anti-aircraft gun that had downed him—and more being pulled into position.
"Follow my lead!" Starscream barrel-rolled as he swept right. Thundercracker rolled as well. But Skywarp—true to his instructions—stayed glued to Starscream's left wing, performing a remarkable cartwheel through the sky which concluded when he crashed into Thundercracker. The force of the collision sent Thundercracker careening into Starscream.
"What are you worthless dolts doing?" Starscream shrieked. "Of all the stupid stunts—"
And that is as far as he got when, with a resounding THOOM-THOOM-THOOM, the anti-aircraft guns tore into them. Engulfed in flames, they fell.
After a time, Skywarp pushed himself out of the rubble. Thundercracker and Starscream were already on their feet, the latter hissing curses through clenched teeth.
"Wow, that was some crash, huh?" Skywarp said brightly. He gazed down at the greying Seeker corpses lying at their feet. "Who are they?"
"They're us," Thundercracker said wearily. "We're dead."
"Oh. But there are four of 'em."
"Sunstorm got fragged too," Starscream said sourly.
"Such language!" chided Sunstorm, who was indeed standing beside them. "So unbecoming. But I forgive you, Starscream. For on this glorious day Primus shall say, 'Sunstorm, most worthy of my creations, I welcome you to the Allspark. Despite the fact that I let you die beside blasphemers and heretics—'"
"Hey, it's getting dark, huh?" Thundercracker said quickly, because Starscream looked like he intended to find out if he could murder a ghost. "Weird."
It was true. As the last of the color leached from their corpses, so did the light and color drain from the world around them, even though it was midday. The darkness swirled wildly, the sound of gunfire and the cries of the living becoming warped, distorted. Only their corpses remained crisply visible, those and a glowing path which drifted lazily into the sky.
"What's that? " Skywarp asked.
"A path to the Allspark!" Jubilant, Sunstorm ran towards it.
The three brothers exchanged glances. "I mean, where else are we gonna go?" Thundercracker shrugged.
They followed the path, fine gold sand gritting beneath their feet and pouring off the skyway in slow, lazy streams, like light rippling through water. Sunstorm hurried ahead of the other three, practically running, but Starscream paused to greedily fill his subspace with handfuls of the gold dust.
"I don't think dead bots need gold," Thundercracker said.
"You don't know," Starscream retorted.
The path climbed and climbed until it reached a clearing crowded with bots of all shapes and sizes. In front of them rose an enormous crystalline dome; ten city-titans could have stood stacked and not reached its zenith. Its shimmering, faceted surface was too thick to see through, yet they found themselves mesmerized by it nonetheless—how it reflected and amplified even the tiniest spark of light, refracting into rainbows that danced merrily across the clearing.
"Whoa," Skywarp said, awed. And then, "Hey, there's Sunstorm! This place is pretty cool, huh Sunny?"
But Sunstorm, face downturned and despondent, shuffled past them without replying.
"He looks upset," Thundercracker said. "I wonder what happened."
"Who cares," Starscream said with his usual thoughtfulness, pushing through the crowd as he made his way towards the golden desk set up in front of the gate to the dome. Thick chains and a large padlock held the gate closed.
Behind the desk sat a large bot with the tallest shoulders Starscream had ever seen. The frown on his face, which seemed permanent, was currently divided between the datapad in his hand and the scuffed working class bot standing before him. Some kind of transport vehicle, Starscream guessed.
"But I don't understand," the scuffed bot was saying, "why you can't let anyone in."
"Well, Mister—" He checked his datapad. "—Pax, if you had read the rules you would understand that Primus has standards. And he has set me, the Duly Appointed Gatekeep of the Allspark, to make sure entrants fulfill them."
"Which rules?"
"All the rules," the Gatekeep said.
"But I've been here quite a while and I haven't seen the gates open once," Pax persisted.
"It's not Primus' fault if the worthy are in scarce supply. You can't expect him to welcome . . ." The Gatekeep clucked his tongue, pointing from one bot to the next as he recited their crimes. "A bot with five unpaid parking tickets, a criminal who forged a check, a shuttle that landed on a helicopter pad on a monthly basis—"
"Now hang on," the shuttle said. "I was delivering energon to a food bank! In a warzone!"
The Gatekeep have him a severe look. "That landing pad was not zoned for non-rotored aircraft."
As the shuttle argued the point, the Seekers exchanged a glance. They had done significantly worse things than rack up traffic violations.
"Maybe that guy is more understanding than he looks," Thundercracker said.
"Maybe he just hates shuttles," Skywarp suggested.
Starscream snorted. "Don't worry, I'll handle this." He began stalking towards the desk. By the time he arrived it was more of a strut.
"We've arrived," Starscream said grandly. "Open the gate, my good bot."
The Gatekeep's eyes narrowed. "And you are?"
"Names aren't importa—"
Skywarp jostled Starscream sideways as he teleported up to the desk with Thundercracker in tow. "Heya, I'm Skywarp! And these are my bros, Starscream and Thundercracker!"
"Hm." The Gatekeep looked down at his datapad, eyes narrowing. "Hmmmm."
"Now what you're reading might seem a little extreme," Thundercracker said, looking uncomfortable, "but keep in mind bombing stuff is just part of the job, so—"
Starscream slapped a hand over his mouth, cutting him off. "What my brother means," he smiled sweetly, "is that it's common for records to get mixed up, isn't it? But I'm sure if you look hard enough you'll find our real records, hmmm?" And out of his subspace he drew a handful of gold dust, letting it glitter temptingly.
The Gatekeep drew himself upright. "Are you trying to bribe me?"
Starscream's smile faltered. "Well, I wouldn't say 'bribe' . . ."
"Hey Screamer, don't sweat it. I know how to get in!" Skywarp said. "Check this out!" And with that he teleported away in a shower of purple sparkles . . . before reappearing, having bounced off some invisible, astral barrier. Disoriented, he fired his thrusters at the wrong moment and rocketed right into the Gatekeep's desk. Delicate gold filigree crumpled beneath him as the desk shattered.
For a moment everyone was frozen and slack-jawed, except Skywarp who was rubbing a dent in his helm amidst a nest of golden splinters.
The Gatekeep picked up his datapad, which had snapped in twain, and glowered at them.
"You know, this place really isn't up to our standards anyway," Starscream said, crossing his arms and putting his nose in the air and marching away. The Gatekeep's glare bored into their backs as they retreated.
"Now what do we do?" Skywarp asked as they trudged back down the path.
"Whatever we want." Starscream kicked viciously at the ground, sending up a spray of golden sand. "Everything's wonderful."
"We could go back to Cybertron," Skywarp said hopefully. "I've always wanted to see the Sea of Rust, and now that we're outta the army—"
"I'm guessing it will look like a dark swirl to us, like everywhere else on Cybertron," Thundercracker said.
"Oh yeah . . . Well then, can't we go back to the gate and, like, hang around?"
"We could have," Starscream snapped, "if someone hadn't humiliated me."
"Hey, lay off. 'Warp was just trying to help."
"Oh yes, isn't he always."
Downward they trudged, with Cybertron hanging in the distance like a tarnished moon. The path twisted, the sand turned black, and a mist settled over them so pale and thick that they could barely perceive the looming silhouette of some distant structure, spherical and ringed with red lights that gleamed down at them.
"What's that? I don't like it." Skywarp balked in its shadow, grabbing his brother's arm. "Screamer, let's go back."
Starscream, who had been thinking much the same, shook his hand off. "We have to look at it, at least."
He stepped deeper into the fog, hand outstretched, and discovered what seemed to be a perfectly ordinary metal door, already open.
"Come on," Starscream said; his brothers reluctantly followed him. As soon as they passed the threshold, the doors slammed shut with the swiftness of a turbofox snapping up its prey. The hallway in front of them stretched on, opening into a cavernous room bustling with activity.
"Is this a factory?" Thundercracker said as they entered, looking at the bots turning cranks, pushing carts, and stirring vats of bubbling acid.
"Is this a palace?" Skywarp asked, gazing up at the copper pillars framing lofty, grey walls studded with glittering jewels.
Starscream took in the battered, despondent workers and said nothing.
"Maybe one of those guys can tell us where we are," Thundercracker said. He approached a bot who was wearily pushing a cart. "Hey—"
"Quiet!" the bot whispered. "You mustn't speak to me! We'll both end up in the wall!"
"The wall?" Thundercracker said. But the bot merely ducked his head and hurried away.
Skywarp teleported to one of the massive grey walls, reaching to touch it. "Maybe the walls have, like, secret passages or—ewww, gross!" He pulled his hand back, wiping it on his side.
The walls, which seemed so innocuous from a distance, were built of bodies. Their glitter came not from gemstones, but from the lightless optics of horror-frozen faces. Greyed out husks had been forced into a macabre jigsaw puzzle, squashed, stacked, and contorted. The columns at the corners of the room were constructed similarly, only the copper wire from the bots' internals had been pulled out and twined around them to add some color and pattern.
The brothers stared, speechless. Then all at once the wall in front of them creaked and heaved. Fingers twitched and faces grimaced. Eyes of every color blazed with light and many mouths dropped open in unison, yet a single voice boomed out:
"Welcome, slaves. Here you will toil for my benefit."
"And who are you, exactly?" Starscream managed to croak.
"I am Unicron, the One Who Waits In The Dark," the voice said, reverberating through their very sparks. "What I am is beyond your meager comprehension. It is enough that you understand that you are mine to command."
"Is that so?" Starscream raised his arms, his null rays powering up, and his brothers likewise assumed a battle stance. "You may be able to intimidate some rusty factory-bots into working for you, but have you ever been challenged by battled-hardened Seekers?"
Before he could fire his weapon, a pain such as he'd never known seared through his processor. His pained cry was echoed by his brothers as the three of them clutched their helms.
"I have been challenged by mightier than you, worm," Unicron said.
Unicron's first command was that Starscream should push a cart around, ladened with nuts and bolts. The bolts were never delivered anywhere; he was to push them in an eternal circle. No matter; Starscream was already plotting his escape.
His route took him through the room where Skywarp had been assigned to endlessly turn a crank and Thundercracker to carry square pieces of metal back and forth, stacking them first at one end of the room, then the other.
"There you are," Starscream said.
"Screamer! I was getting worried, I hadn't seen you anywhere."
"Skywarp's been sneaking around," Thundercracker frowned, "which he shouldn't."
Skywarp smiled and shrugged. "Exploring is fun. Even here."
"Amazing insight. Scintillating," Starscream said. "Good news, Skywarp: I've forgiven you. Now hurry up and teleport us out of here."
"Forgiven him for what?" Thundercracker said.
"For getting me into this mess. I would never have touched that door if Skywarp hadn't made such a fuss about it."
"Are you seriously trying to pin it on him? Starscream—"
Skywarp interrupted. "I've tried, Screamer, but my trans-demonical navigation doohickey won't cooperate."
"Transdimensional," Thundercracker murmured.
"Yeah, that. I can't get through the outer wall. The best I can do is . . ." He gripped their hands and in a flash of purple light the three of them warped across the room. ". . . move around inside."
"Well, that doesn't get us out of this horror-show, now does it?" Starscream shook his arm loose. "Ugh, I'll have to do everything myself. As usual."
Thundercracker lifted his eyes to the ceiling and heaved a sigh. He turned to Skywarp, who was looking downcast. "Thank you, Skywarp, for trying. Right, Starscream?"
"Yes," Starscream said, "thanks for nothing."
He had barely left the room when he saw another familiar face. "Sunstorm?"
"Starscream?" Sunstorm glanced around and said in a whisper, "We're not supposed to talk. How did you get here?"
"Never mind about that, I won't be here long."
"Starscream, I owe you an apology."
Starscream's optic ridges shot up. "Oh?" he said encouragingly.
"I thought I was blessed by Primus," Sunstorm said, looking away. "But he saw my true spark and judged it lacking."
He looked so downhearted that Starscream felt a scrap of pity for him. "Well, Sunstorm—"
"Your spark was lacking too, clearly, or you wouldn't have ended up here. But that's no surprise. "
Starscream gritted his teeth. "Goodbye, Sunstorm." He began to push his cart away.
"Wait!" Sunstorm whisper-called after him. "Do you want to join me in praying that Primus will forgive us for our unworthiness?"
Starscream walked faster.
He was determined to escape. Unicron was not omnipresent, he learned, but his malicious presence could inhabit any wall or pillar. Starscream would have to be careful and sly.
At the earliest opportunity he hid a pickaxe in the bottom of his cart; when all was quiet, he snuck to the huge metal doors. He landed blow after blow on the hinges, yet he didn't leave a single dent.
The pickaxe fell from his grip when he saw his shadow grow crisp on the doors, lit with Unicron's stare.
He put on an oily smile and turned around. "Great Unicron! I just saw a bot trying to defile your spectacular palace. He fled when he saw me, but—"
"Do not take me for a fool," Unicron warned, but there was an amused tone to his voice. "You are bold, slave."
"I'm wasted here," Starscream said. "If I were out there, why, who knows what wonders I could bring you." And he scooped the gold dust from his subspace, letting it glitter in his cupped palms.
"Hmm," Unicron said. "Perhaps you can serve a greater purpose. I seek something on Cybertron. A trinket. You shall seek it out."
Starscream couldn't believe his luck. "Certainly."
"Good," Unicron said. "This is your quarry."
An image appeared in Starscream's mind: a spherical container with a handle at either end, cupping a luminous blue crystal.
"And how shall I retrieve it?" Starscream asked, casually as he could.
"The doors shall open for you. Do not betray me."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Starscream said.
Starscream was eager to escape, but curious too. Whether Unicron was a god or a monster, he could not imagine why he would need a bauble. He made his way back to Sunstorm and sketched the shape of Unicron's "trinket" in the dust.
"Have you ever heard of an object shaped like this?"
Sunstorm's optics grew wide. "The Matrix," he whispered. "A holy artifact of Primus, under whose feet we are but scrap metal—"
"Do you know where it's kept?" asked Starscream, wiping the drawing away.
"One of the temples, perhaps? There are several hundred. But the Covenant of Primus might hold the answer."
"Hmm."
As Starscream started to turn away, Sunstorm caught his arm. "It is rumored to wield great power against darkness," Sunstorm whispered, his optics hopeful.
Starscream shook him loose. "Good to know."
As promised, the ironbound doors of Unicron opened at Starscream's touch. The sky-path unwound before him, leading to Cybertron. As before, it looked odd to the eyes of the dead. Cybertron was smothered in a thick, swirling darkness that neither lightened nor lifted. From the rev of engines to the whirling of the wind, every sound was dissonant and strange.
Starscream stumbled around in the dark for a time before climbing the path, returning to Unicron.
"My Great Lord," Starscream said, bowing low before the presence of the dark entity, "your humble servant looked everywhere, but alas, when one can't even see his own feet . . ."
"So you have failed."
Starscream internally bristled, but kept up his fawning smile. "I was temporarily hampered. But if you restored me to life—"
"I cannot. My bounds cannot be broken . . . yet. However, I can offer a deal. I will give you the ability to see true in exchange for something valuable to you."
Starscream's hand protectively dipped into his subspace, crammed with gold dust. "But I'm doing this quest for you."
"There are always others."
Starscream scowled. But this was paving the path towards his escape, after all. "Fine."
All at once the volume in his subspace lessened, replaced by a weight atop his head. A crown now sat there, gleaming gold and set with rubies as red as the eyes through which Unicron watched him.
"Are you satisfied, slave?"
Starscream touched the crown, awestruck. "Qu-quite."
"Then go."
And once again the doors opened before Starscream.
This time when he stepped foot on Cybertron, the darkness cleared away. The world, though in greyscale, was crisp . . . as long as Starscream wore the crown. Removing it, he discovered, made the world devolve into chaos again.
No matter. Starscream was happy to wear it, after all.
He searched and searched. But although he could now see clearly, Starscream's incorporeal form could not move the smallest pebble nor shift the smallest blade of irongrass; the Matrix could have been lying under a scrap of tinfoil and he would never know.
Anyway, there were too many blasted temples. He returned to Unicron's halls.
"Sooo, Sunstorm, have you narrowed down where the Matrix might be?"
"Yes." Sunstorm hesitated. "But I don't know if I should tell you."
"Why not? You want to get out of here, don't you?"
"The Matrix is a holy relic. Only Primus is worthy to wield it!"
"Well, he's not here, is he! If I had it—"
"Hey Screamer!" With a flash of purple light, Skywarp encroached on the conversation. "Have you seen Thundercracker?"
Starscream scowled; he had been on the cusp of convincing Sunstorm, and here came Skywarp ruining everything. "No, I haven't. He's probably pushing a button repeatedly or something equally asinine."
"Nah, he's usually carrying bricks back 'n forth. But he's been gone, like, a whole day." Skywarp looked worried. "He was by the gross wall, saying, like, he thought the dead bots weren't really dead? Because they already died once, I guess? It was kind of boring so I was thinking about that time back at the Sea of Rust. . . Wasn't that place cool? The sunsets were so pretty and the updrafts were so strong. I wish they hadn't transferred us away from there, we coulda explored the canyons and—"
"Focus."
" . . . Oh yeah, so, Thundercracker. He was talking and then all of a sudden he was gone."
"Well, I haven't seen him." Starscream gave him a little shove. "Goodbye, Skywarp."
"Fine. Geez, Starscream, you're so rude." But just as it seemed Skywarp would leave, he noticed Sunstorm. "Whoa, Sunny! You're here too?"
"Hello, Skywarp. Yes, I am here, for I am but dust in Primus' eyes. Let me tell you of my travails—"
Starscream gave up and stalked away. There was clearly no point in trying to get things done with Skywarp in the way; he would just have to talk to Sunstorm later. That was fine, he had other items on his to-do list.
He stepped into the hall. "Ahem. Mighty Unicron, I have returned!"
The wall pulsed and the many optics of the dead lit up. "Indeed you have, lowly one."
"My search continues. But how will I deliver the item to you when I find it, great Unicron?"
"I can grant you something of use . . . if you give up something you value."
"Of course, my liege. Take what you will."
Starscream's subspace emptied of dust as decorative golden talons, such as the nobles wore, appeared on his fingers. The delicate chains dangling from them chimed as he turned his hands to and fro, admiring their filigree.
"With these," Unicron said, "you may touch the living world and carry its burdens. With these you shall bring me my prize."
"Of course, Master, of course." Starscream bowed low.
When Unicron's presence receded and the wall was nothing but a lifeless tableau, Starscream returned to Sunstorm, who was glancing about in puzzlement. There was no sign of Skywarp.
"Well?" Starscream said. "Are you going to give me the location or not?"
"I suppose there's no harm in it," Sunstorm said. "As Skywarp pointed out to me, Primus will undoubtedly strike you down with fire and lightning as soon as your sinful hands touch the Matrix."
"Skywarp said that?"
"Well, he said you were a jerk. But clearly that's what he meant."
"Clearly." Starscream rolled his eyes. "What wisdom. And from Skywarp, no less."
"Yes . . ." Sunstorm glanced around again. "Strange. He was here but a moment ago. I looked away for a moment and, poof, he'd gone."
"He teleported away, obviously," Starscream said, studying his fingers and admiring how his new finery gleamed.
"Ye-es, I suppose." Sunstorm hesitated. "It makes a sound usually, when he does that. Like 'vwop.'"
"Mm-hm. So, the location?"
This time Starscream headed down to Cybertron with coordinates. They led to the weathered remains of a temple, little more than rubble under rusted panels which had once formed a dome. The metal was as grey as the rest of the world to Starscream's eyes, but he guessed it was bronze, for he could see the textured patina on the fallen dome. His golden fingers were the only color in the world; they hooked into the lace-like pattern in the metal, pulled them up and cast them aside; Starscream smiled. One by one he shifted the panels, revealing the entrance to an underground chamber. Down he went.
The passage led to a simple room carved roughly from stone. A faded mural on the far wall showed a stylized figure holding a lantern, painted beams light flowing from it and sparking wherever it touched the metallic hills and mountains.
The shape of the lantern was familiar. The Matrix! It was set in a precisely carved nook in the wall, positioned to give the illusion that the relief carving was holding it vertically by one of its handles. Starscream easily pried it free.
The moment he took hold of the Matrix, it began emitting a soft blue light. Color spread into the world again, even after Starscream cautiously removed his golden crown.
He put it back quickly—he had earned it, after all. But first he spent a little time spreading his wings under the blue sky which he had missed so much. The temple, as he had guessed, was old, greened bronze; he felt gratified. But there would be time enough to enjoy Cybertron later. He had things to do.
Returning, he kicked Unicron's doors open.
"Oh mighty layabout," Starscream called. "Where are you, you pathetic blowhard?"
"Watch your tongue, slave," Unicron said, manifesting in front of him, his many eyes glaring.
Starscream held the Matrix aloft, smirking. "You will be my slave now. I, Starscream, hold that which you fear. Or am I to believe you can use an artifact of Primus, you disgusting piece of twice-heated slag?" He slid his fingers into the handles of the artifact, pulled, and—
Nothing happened. It didn't open, didn't even shift. He pulled and pulled and pulled till his fingers trembled—
The rumble that shook the walls might have been a laugh or it might have been a growl.
"Imagine thinking you are worthy of such a thing, you pathetic, mortal fool. I might have spared you, left your ghost to roam Cybertron with the gifts you paid so dearly for. Now, you will meet the same fate as those you gifted me."
"You will not catch me filling your treasure trove," Starscream sneered, protectively clutching his crown to his chest and trying to keep his voice from shaking.
The walls rumbled again, and it was definitely a laugh this time. "Did you give me the golden dust you carried, or do you wear it on your person, purified and forged? Was its value reduced when I bejeweled it? When I bestowed it with powers?"
The eyes in the wall dulled, one by one, until only two pairs remained, two red pairs of optics, two mouths opening to mouth Unicron's words as the greyed out bodies of two Seekers twitched.
"These you have given me," Unicorn said.
For a moment Starscream stood frozen. Then he laughed uncertainly. "Those aren't them. All Seekers are built to the same blueprint. Those, they're someone else—"
"Are they?" the death-grey Seekers rumbled, and suddenly color spread across their chassis—blue on one, black and purple on the other—as they began to struggle.
"Starscream, get out of here! Run!" Thundercracker cried. Starscream, ever the contrarian, grabbed him and pulled. But even as he caught Thundercracker's wrist, the blue plating dimmed to grey again. Unicron's laugh rumbled as he spread Thundercracker's fingers, reaching to claim the Matrix—
—and Skywarp, still his own stupid self, grabbed Starscream's other wrist. Vwop! In the blink of an eye they were at the entrance. As Unicron snarled and lit every malevolent eye, Skywarp shoved Starscream . . . shoved him out the massive maw of the door a moment before it snapped shut.
Starscream sat on the ground, dazed, Matrix clutched to his chest. The massive doors in front of him, barely visible through the fog, remained closed. Unicron could not pursue him outside his domain, it seemed.
"Well. I'm free. Everything worked out," Starscream said, standing shakily. The mist lay cold and white around him.
He walked, stopped, looked back for a time, and walked on.
"My goodness! Is that the Matrix?" the Duly Appointed Gatekeep said. "That artifact has been missing for generations! Now delivering that certainly makes you worthy of entry. The rest of you take note," he added, giving the crowd a stern look as he unlocked the gates. Light poured out as he opened them and ushered Starscream in.
Inside the Allspark, rolling hills of silver grass reflected a crystal blue sky. Gauzy banners fluttered from shining towers which rose above mysterious ironwood forests. Beyond, burbling streams of energon wandered past gazebos draped in flowers.
"I've made it," Starscream said, still clutching the Matrix close. There wasn't another bot to be seen. The Allspark was perfectly beautiful and perfectly empty. There was no one to annoy him or slow him down or get on his nerves.
There was no one.
Or so Starscream thought until he heard a distant humming, barely audible over the rustle of silver-grass and the burble of energon brooks. Starscream followed the sound and soon found its source: a spindly orange and white bot tending a garden. The bot turned when he heard Starscream, dropping his watering can to clap with delight.
"Oh! A guest at last. Have a seat, won't you? And some tea." He ushered Starscream to a round little table and a small metal chair. "And you brought the Matrix back! How nice. You can just put it there—yes, thank you. Now you must tell me all about how you came here. Except the unpleasant parts. Unless you want to divulge them. It's up to you. I'm always here to listen."
Starscream sat slowly, eyeing the earnest bot. "Who are you?"
"I'm a sort of, well, creator. I believe you call me Primus in the current age."
"You're Primus? You're our god?"
"It sounds so grand when you put it that way, doesn't it? But please don't stand on formality. I'm simply glad you're here. It's been so quiet lately. You know how it is, bots get bored, they ask to be reincarnated. And we haven't had anyone new arrive in so long!" Primus sighed. "It's strange. I sent Magnus out (dear Magnus, so faithful) to make sure someone was there to open the gate, and yet—"
Starscream snorted. "'Dear Magnus' decided the gates were better off closed forever on the unworthy masses."
"Oh dear. I should have checked on him more often. But I didn't want him to feel like I was hovering." Primus wrung his hands. "Please excuse me, I must remedy the situation."
"Wait! Wait a moment. What do you know of a creature called Unicron?"
"Oh, have you met my brother?"
"If he runs a hellhole made of corpses ."
"Yes," Primus sighed, "that sounds like him.
"Well . . . aren't you going to go out there and destroy him? Grab your mighty sword or whatever?"
"Oh no." Primus looked pained. "I'm in no position to perform any grand rescues. My true body isn't this , but Cybertron itself. If I were to transform, it would destroy, well, everything."
Starscream glared. "So what!"
"It is my brother's nature to destroy and mine to create," Primus said gently. He tilted his head thoughtfully, then held out the Matrix. "I think, after all, you may yet need this."
Starscream crossed his arms and looked away. "It doesn't work. Not for me."
"It may be different this time," Primus said, "if you are."
Starscream snorted derisively. But when Primus' kindly smile didn't fade, he grabbed the Matrix and stomped out of the Allspark.
"You're leaving?" the Duly Appointed Gatekeep said in surprise. "I must object. The only authorized way to leave the Allspark is through reincarnation, for which you must submit the appropriate paperwork—"
"Shut up. By the way, you stink at your job."
Down the path Starscream marched, until the mist swirled around him with every step as he hammered on the iron doors.
"Open up, you eldritch freak!" Starscream shouted.
The doors creaked open. "Enter, slave."
Starscream marched in. "Give me back my brothers," he said. He threw his crown to the floor, cast off his jeweled talons. "Give them to me and you'll get your stupid trinket."
Unicron laughed, and Starscream caught sight of Thundercracker and Skywarp—trapped and puppeted once more—among the heaving mass of the wall.
"Did you think I would reward you after your betrayal, foolish one?" Arms reached from the wall, catching Starscream's wings and arms, pulling him towards the grey mass. "You shall serve me for all eternity."
Starscream wrapped himself around the Matrix as darkness closed in around him, pressing in. Deep in his chassis his spark dimmed. But it did not extinguish.
It can't, he thought. We're already dead.
Feeble as this scrap of hope was, he clung to it. As his spark pulsed, he felt the Matrix pulse too. And the other bodies, bots trapped in this terrible grey limbo, not dead but not allowed to live—he could feel their sparks too, pulsing slowly. And two of them so familiar . . .
Every movement was a struggle in that hopeless crush, but Starscream managed to grip one of the Matrix's handles. Then the other.
Now to pull. But he couldn't. There was no room. He tried anyway. His limbs were numbing, turning grey.
"So, another fool arrives," Unicron said, and Starscream's mouth moved with the words.
His flickering vision saw a Seeker, a yellow one, staring in frozen horror.
Starscream's spark pulsed. Thundercracker's, Skywarp's, and a thousand others pulsed with it, lending their strength. Starscream twisted his mouth out of the sneer Unicron had set on it and replaced it with his own.
"Sunstorm," he croaked. He needed him to understand it was truly him, Starscream, speaking. "Frag you, you condescending aft."
Shoving with all his might, he worked one arm forward until it punched out of the mass, the Matrix hanging from one clenched fist.
Sunstorm's optics lit in understanding. He stepped forward, gripped the other handle, and pulled. A brilliant blue light poured forth; Unicron howled in rage as the wall began to crumble.
"It's nice, isn't it?" Primus beamed. "A happy ending."
"It's not bad," Starscream said grudgingly.
"Is something wrong? You've been quiet. I'm sorry it took so long for us to have a private moment, but I've been so busy welcoming everyone—"
"It would have been faster if Magnus hadn't insisted on reading that thing to every bot."
"His Officially Notarized Issuement of Sincere Apology, you mean?" Primus' lips twitched. "It was lengthy. But he felt very bad about misunderstanding my instructions, and reciting it made him happy." He set down his tea and cupped his chin in his hand. "How can I make you happy, my dear? A more elegant home? Fine silks? A crown?"
"No," Starscream said. "No crowns." He hesitated. "Supposing . . . Magnus . . . had felt bad about something he possibly did wrong, but he didn't know the words to put in his letter? Supposing—theoretically—he wanted to apologize, but was bad at it?"
"Ah, I see. I would tell him—"
"And imagine it's particularly hard because he's usually perfect."
"Yes . . . quite. Well, I would remind, ahem, Magnus that acknowledging your flaws shows strength, not weakness." Seeing Starscream's uncertain expression, Primus added, "Words come more easily—and show more sincerity—when accompanied by action. Tell them you're sorry and show them you're sorry. Does that help?"
"Yes," Starscream said slowly. Then, nodding with conviction: "Yes, it does."
The next morning Primus was contentedly watching some bots racing on a distant roadway—and pondering how to convince Sunstorm that looking at him directly wouldn't burn out his optics—when Magnus hurried up, agitated.
"Primus, sir!" Magnus said. "Someone has stolen the Matrix!"
"Oh, did they?"
"Yes, it was stored, as per regulation—"
"There aren't any regulations about where to store it."
"I made some."
"Ah," Primus bit his lip. "Continue."
"I put it in the garden shed, since it can be classified as a tool. And now it's gone! Furthermore—" His frown intensified. "—three bots snuck out of the Allspark last night!"
"It's a paradise, Magnus, not a prison," Primus said mildly. "They can come and go as they wish."
"But they must have been the ones who made off with the Matrix! Who knows where they are now!"
"I think," Primus said, "they are probably in the Sea of Rust."
"What?"
"Never mind." Primus reached to his chest, which had begun to glow a brilliant blue, and when the light dimmed he was holding the Matrix. Or a Matrix. "Here you are. You can put it in the shed, or wherever you please. A tool . . . I like that. But you know, my dear, you can own more than one rake."