Chương 41: LOG-038.

The core was... exactly what I expected it to be. We were inside a sick, twisted parody of a sparkchamber. And that was coming from me. More importantly... I could feel it watching us as we approached, a few Zakus setting down the Reliquary and beginning to open it up. The Autobots just stood around Optimus, a few of them keeping an eye on the darker spaces of the gigantic chamber, while my Predacons all spread out in order to cover any possible points of entry for hostile forces.

And yet, it was all so very peaceful. I simply stood there, staring at the violent conflagration of energy that was Unicron's antispark. Even the urge to take a few scans of the thing had mostly subsided. This wasn't something I wanted data of. Not while it was still online at least.... though a brief inspection of it's mechanical structure might not hurt. Just in case I needed to blow it up or something.

Earth would likely be lost, which would suck, but it would still be a better outcome than an active Chaos Bringer. Presumably, I had spent too long silently staring at the source of violet light, as Indomina and Backbite of all bots stepped up next to me. It seemed the mech had finally managed to ditch Airazor. A minor miracle on his part. I could see the femme pouting a short distance away.

"Shockwave."

"Creator." They both paused to stare at each other, before Backbite gave a slow nod, gesturing to me. My helm only turned to fully acknowledge the pair as Indomina stepped forward.

"Creator. All notable incursion points have been covered. The Reliquary has been deployed and my people stand ready to halt any attempts at disrupting our task. We await your command." I paused for a moment, before inclining my helm.

"Go to Optimus. He will know what to do." And then I went back to staring at the antispark. Indomina let out a brief exhale and stepped away, presumably to go and wrangle Optimus into getting the Reliquary to do it's thing. Slowly, I raised a servo, inspecting my digits as Backbite finally stepped forward, voice low.

"It is nearly over..." The transformed (in more ways than one) mech paused as I shook my helm, my servo clenching into a fist.

"It is not. Even if we deal with Unicron, there will be the aftermath to contend with. I fully anticipate tensions between the Autobots and Decepticons present on Earth to reignite once more, despite our brief alliance." Backbite frowned.

"Megatron." I nodded in turn.

"Quite. You were informed of his condition?" The Predacon's orange optics narrowed slightly.

"Indeed. Unfortunate that you couldn't simply snuff his spark out and settle it there and then. As amusing as the thought of his limbless form lying on a medical berth and stewing in his own impotency is... death is a far more reliable solution. So long as you make sure he doesn't get back up anyway..." I paused, before nodding.

"He... is an issue. So is Soundwave, by extension. And possibly Dreadwing as well. They are all a problem in their own ways. One I am not sure how to resolve peacefully." The dark blue mech just scoffed.

"Peacefully? You are in command of an army. Do not think no one has noticed. The Zakus are built with loyalty to you embedded in their very processors. You seem to have won over most of the Vehicons as well, and don't even get me started on the Predacons. My new 'family' answer to you and you alone, fanatics that they are."

The brief twitch of his mouth hinted at a begrudging smile at the mention of his new race, no matter how sarcastic he tried to make the word sound, but the expression was quickly replaced by a serious frown as he swept an arm forward.

"Just order their termination and be done with it! You said you wanted peace between all Cybertronians, didn't you? Well some of them don't want it, and will keep fighting no matter how hard you try to convince them!" Never change, Screamer. Never change... If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. Venting some dust filled air, I lowered my servo.

"You make a good point. I'll think about it. Give it some due consideration. But for now, we'll just have to wait and see-" Both of our helms turned as a hiss echoed throughout the chamber, the source coming from a determined Optimus standing next to our ultimate weapon. Indomina stood next to him, arms crossed. The Reliquary had opened, and whatever Optimus had done, it was already beginning the process of absorbing Unicron into it's confines. The effect was... visually stimulating. To say the very least.

However, life had taught me that things were never that simple, and I was proven right as a psychic scream tore through my processor, stunning both me and those around me. That's when the rumbling began, what seemed to be hundreds upon hundreds of Terrorcons popping out from the walls, even as Unicron's core began to let out violent arcs of energy, the purple lightning strikes slamming into the ground and leaving smoking, uneven craters behind.

It seemed Unicron had been saving some of them up exactly for this last battle. A desperate struggle to escape the inevitable, or perhaps just a final hurrah before he was beaten? Regardless, it was causing numerous issues. Shaking my helm rapidly, I forced my processor back to full functionality, clearing away the dazed thoughts, raising my cannon and firing a blast into a Terrorcon that had been sneaking up on a stunned Tiamat.

"Defend the Reliquary! This is it!" It was all I managed to yell out before the horde was upon us, attacking from all sides. The Autobots remained around the Reliquary, an unbreakable bulwark that no amount of numbers could pass through thanks to their excellent teamwork, communication and veteran level experience, even as my creations began to group together in turn. The contrast between the two sub-races I had forged was stark. Zakus formed into tight formations, axe-wielders surrounding those using their rifles.

They advanced slowly, yet steadily in careful coordination with each other. Any group of Terrorcons encountered were dismantled quickly, before they promptly moved on to the next batch. I'd say that they didn't miss a shot thanks to my programming work, but there were so many targets around us that missing a shot would quite frankly be impossible regardless. In comparison, the Predacons were visibly and distinctly more... feral, in their nature and way of fighting.

They hunted in packs, darting into the swarm and digging out deep chunks of the Terrorcons' numbers with claw, tooth and flame. I briefly watched in interest as Tiamat shifted into her Hydra-based alt mode. Two heads grabbing the legs and helm of a rather bulky and violently struggling Terrorcon, holding it in place for the third head to dart forward and savage it with long, serrated teeth. Most performed similarly. Flyers grabbed the zombies, flew them up and simply dropped them from a great height.

Those stuck to the ground charged, plowing through the horde and slamming aside dozens of enemies before engaging in melee after transforming back to their root modes. I noted with a dull sense of pride that Indomina was burning through a not insignificant portion of the horde with her flames, a few similar draconic themed Predacons standing around the transformed femme, Backbite among them, all lending their quite literal firepower to her own.

My observations were cut off as a Terrorcon sprinted at me with a screech, the mangled noise escaping it's rusted maw only drowned out by the constant mentally degrading scream Unicron's antispark was emitting as the Reliquary continued to pull it within itself. My Zaku guards were busy fending off their own attackers, but that most certainly didn't mean I was helpless. My fist lashed out before the monster could claw at me, damn near popping it's jagged helm off.

Then I slammed the barrel of my cannon into it's midsection, forcefully lifted the still snarling abomination into the air and fired. Scorched components and fragments of armour that were likely eons old scattered around me as I pressed forward, backhanded another Terrorcon out of my way and stomped it's rusted helm flat. I wasn't particularly needed in any one spot, but I figured I'd be better suited firing from a distance within the relative safety of the immovable phalanx the Autobots had set up.

That's when I heard my name called, my optic taking in Adam's sprinting form as the mech called out a warning, servo outstretched towards me. I looked up just in time to notice one of the electrical arcs heading straight towards me and- PAIN.

Indomina paused in the midst of ripping yet another one of the undead Cybertronians in half as her audio receptors picked up an unfamiliar roar of anguish. Her golden optics widened in shock as she realized just why the voice had sounded so strange. Because it wasn't unfamiliar. She would recognise the Creator's vocal patterns anywhere. She'd simply never heard him scream before.

Tossing the limp Terrorcon aside, the Femme sprinted forward, blade sliding out of her arm and lashing out to rip another two assailants out of her way as she made her way over to the source of the pained sounds. Her spark missed a beat as she finally witnessed her Creator. Shockwave was on his knees, his entire form doubled over and seemingly doing his best to grasp his helm with only one servo and a cannon barrel.

His frame shuddered, even as a pair of Zakus crouched beside him, rifles raised and scanning for any Terrorcons that might split off to attempt to pick the wounded Commander off. Suffice to say, Indomina likely broke several speed records as she blasted forward, legs locking into a power slide as she came to a stop next to Shockwave, servos roving over his form for damage.

"Creator! What happened?!" The femme flinched as a small purple arc of electricity erupted from the Decepticon's frame, and that's when she finally noticed the cracked and warped nature of her Creator's forward chassis. His chest had taken significant damage from one of the faux-lightning strikes, but no matter what the physical assault had done, it seemed the mental aspect was far worse.

All she could do was fret as Shockwave's digits dug so hard into the side of his helm that the metal around his optic began to bend, right until she grabbed his wrist with her own servo and wrenched it away from his most distinctive component.

"Stop this! Creator! Get a hold of yourself!" The struggling mech finally looked up at her and Indomina gasped in horror as she saw the state of her Creator's optic. While the core of the lens remained it's usual crimson, the edges had turned a sickly purple, with small tendrils slowly worming their way towards the center. The scientist let loose a half strangled sob, as his restrained servo ground against Indomina's grip.

"Make.... it... stop...!" Indomina froze, unsure of what Shockwave actually wanted. Then she narrowed her optics in determination. When in doubt, ask the Creator. One servo grasped Shockwave's own in a tight, hopefully reassuring grip, the other steadied one of his rattling shoulders.

"Command me, Creator! What is wrong? What must I do?" The warped optic stared up at her, even as she noted the distinctive sound of Shockwave's cooling systems kicking into overdrive. A disturbing sign, considering how robust her Creator's heat distribution system was.

"Shadowplay... c-compromised...!" The words came out in a choked gasp, even as the wounded mech leaned onto her for support. Part of Indomina silently acknowledged that she enjoyed Shockwave leaning on her for once, even if the circumstances were far less than ideal. Her attention was drawn back to the Decepticon as he dipped his helm slightly, optic flickering.

"Forcing-ing... enduced s-stasis. Take me to... Knockout. He"ll... know what to... do." His helm seemed to gain just enough energy to look back up at her as Shockwave bit out the last few words.

"Finish... this!" And then Shockwave was offline, not permanently, she hoped, but definitely not standing back up anytime soon, his optic going dark and several more Terrorcons charging at the pair with horrid, echoing howls. Indomina slowly laid the stasis-trapped mech to the ground, leaving him in the care of a few nearby Zakus and Predacons, and leapt back into the fray with a roar. Regardless of everything else, her ferocity had only increased with the alteration of her objective.

She was no longer just fighting to destroy. Now she had something to protect as well. Her Creator. Her Commander. Her Sire.