no worries, I think everyone else has been busy too. Congradz on your upcoming Masters graduation !

And.....who is this Jazz, you speak of ? : D

 

Christmas update!

So between school, life, and the holidays it's been somewhat difficult to get writing and when I have I wasn't happy -- heck, even this feels a little weaker than my usual output, but onwards we struggle.

Some more murders, and more to come. Warhead is less than ten chapters away from finishing. How many remain? I won't tell! With regard to polishing Warhead and the estimated time of arrival for the sequel books: I probably won't produce Books II and III for a little bit, wanting them to run concurrently and all. I'll likely also post new threads for them.

How would you all like to see the eventual full edit + additional content version of Warhead? The chapters in this thread edited to include the full materials when I've finished revising, or would you prefer a new, revised thread?

I've also got a little surprise for you all. To help ease the wait between chapters, I've been thinking I'll do some little biography pieces featuring some of the toy forms of Warhead characters! Yes, there are toys for them. All of them are based on existing toys, several of which I do own already. You can expect one after this chapter, probably sometime tomorrow when I have a few more guys.  

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Chapter XXXIII: Derailed
"Why have you brought me this Tyrannicon?" Sentinel thundered. The Prime sat in the Ark's control room, and before him was Hound, accompanied by Needlenose, the Tyrannicon cowering under the weight of the Prime's gaze. "We have no time to waste on flights of fancy, Hound." His eyes glowered upon them, Hound resisting the urge to cower.

"He could be helpful. He didn't seem especially interested in their cause. Not to mention he helped me get back to base." The explanation felt weak, even if it was true.

"Hmph." Sentinel brought up a holographic screen with a wave of one hand, watching a timer of some sort. Hound quirked his head. "Never you mind about this," Sentinel muttered, closing it. Hound noticed before he did that the timer was almost up.

"If I may?" Needlenose poked a hand up, as if asking to be called upon.

"What?" Sentinel said, exasperated.

"I wouldn't mind helping you, honestly. I'm not exactly picky about who I work for. But I'm a tailor. I don't know to what extent I could be useful at all. At Tyger Pax I didn't even fight anyone."

Sentinel pursed his lips, looking down at the pair. "So we have a fool and a coward. What a pair. But no matter. Time is short and I don't have the luxury of relying on anyone else for this task."

"Hey, I'm no coward," Needlenose tried to say, before wilting underneath the glare Sentinel shot him.

"Task?" Hound queried. What's Sentinel up to now? We're leaving Cybertron...aren't we?

"How prepared are both of you to sacrifice yourselves to save your world?"

Needlenose gaped. "I, uh...well, I guess..."

Hound nodded, even though internally his servos ground to a halt at the thought of losing his spark.

Sentinel smiled. "Good liars, both of you. I require both of you to be in my confidence, then." He hesitated, then brought back up the timer. "I have little time to explain. This is a countdown estimation to when Unicron's transwarp wave will impact Cybertron."

"Unicron!?" Needlenose exclaimed, before another death glare from Sentinel shut him up.

"The wave will hit faster than anyone anticipated. This timer might not even be tracking it accurately. He's been accelerating as he gets closer." Sentinel met their eyes. "I need the two of you to find some old acquaintances. They'll be able to mount a resistance here on Cybertron. I know them well, and they'd never leave the planet with the rest of us."

"Who?" Hound dreaded the answer. Somewhere along the line, he could feel this would be the first part of a major shakeup, or even the end of the world. Needlenose didn't seem too affected by Sentinel's words, but then Needlenose hadn't worked with the Prime. He didn't understand the dire omens that often came out of the Prime's mouth.

And anyone the Prime could recommend to lead a resistance against Unicron would be frightening indeed.

Sentinel's face twisted into a smile. "Obsidian...and his consort, Strika."

* * *​

Elita-1 shuddered. These Vehicons had taken her to someplace she knew instinctively had to be near Kaon but the place was stricken with war. And shortly after entering the gloomy, neon-purple-lit cityscape, they found him. A yellow Cybertronian, dead on the ground.

"Boss!" the lead Vehicon said, dropping as he checked Swindle's body. A massive sword wound consumed much of his chest, blackened Energon still leaking out of the hole. Elita-1 cupped a hand to her mouth, horrified. Who could do this to another Cybertronian? Aren't we all the same at the core? The Tyrannicon logo emblazoned on the Vehicons caught her eye, and as she stared at it, she looked down to the Autobot logo on her own chassis. Maybe we aren't anymore.

"Hey, fembot. We're rolling." The Vehicons expected her to move, and she didn't.

The words trembled out of her mouth. "Make me."

"Huh?" The lead 'Con took a step closer, as if he couldn't hear her. "Say that again?"

"I said make me!" Elita-1 flipped out a blaster and fired a warning shot at the Vehicons, who dove for cover in a nearby Kaon bar front.

"She's armed! Who gives a fembot weapons!?" one of them cried, and she took a perverse pleasure in the statement. Chromedome, that's who. Mad scientist or tinkerer, who can say, but boy am I glad he's fond of weaponizing things.

"Scrap her!" The Vehicons split in different directions, pulling out rifles and firing as a disorganized mass against her.

Elita-1 dove for cover, but it was moot: several shots hit her chassis and she collapsed. She was no warrior. She blacked out.

She awoke some time later. Blackness greeted her. Shaking her head only hurt more. Fire was everywhere. Dozens of Vehicons struggling with wounded. Autotroopers fallen left and right. Something had happened, but what?

And then she saw him. Dion. Different now. New body entirely. But the same colors. The same kind eyes. The burgeoning adoration he felt in her resonated in her chestplate now. And as he turned fully and she saw the faceplate, she fell to fear of the Nemesis.

* * *​

"Megatron!" cried the newcomer Vehicons when they saw the scene: their leader, pinned at the throat by Nemesis's hand. Optimus, rifle pointed at them. Their lieutenant, Brawl, pinned and trapped. They sprang into action, dropping Elita-1's body on the ground.

Optimus could see what would happen instantly. He swung his rifle to aim at the Vehicons and blew one apart with one overcharged shot, rolling toward Megatron. Nemesis dropped the Tyrannicon leader and lunged for the Vehicons, grabbing one by the chest and peeling him apart to crush his spark with his bare hands.

Megatron, to his credit, ducked away from Optimus, firing a shot that glanced off of Magnus's helmet. Brawl took advantage, kicking Magnus away and squeezing the spark crusher; sending Nemesis to his knees.

"Now we find the true outcome of the war, Optimus! You want the world to be a better place? It starts with you being destroyed!"

Brawl snapped his cannons out, firing them into Magnus's chest and sending the Autotrooper commander reeling backward. Smoke erupted from the hole and Magnus grunted.

Nemesis snarled from his place on the ground, scratching his hands along the dirt. "You want the war to end? I'll solve that problem for you!" Nemesis threw his knife right at Brawl, who instinctively blocked, only to put the spark crusher in harm's way. The knife overloaded the chamber, sending an explosion of energy coursing through it: the resulting concussive blast sent Brawl flying into the wall.

"I'm going to peel you apart, Megatron! You dared touch Elita-1? There is nothing that will stop me from tearing you to pieces!" Nemesis seethed, righteously empowered by his newfound freedom from the spark crusher.

He's going to get us all killed. He's blind to it. Megatron will use his affection for her! Optimus grimaced, dropping the final Vehicon with a quick barrage. Elita-1 collapsed on the floor as he watched, and sympathy overwhelmed him. The poor girl must have been through hell, and here she would doubtless end up the bargaining chip.

"Calm down, boy." Ultra Magnus yanked Brawl out of the wall by his foot, throwing him on the ground and stepping on his chest, his blaster aimed at Brawl's face. "The more you let your emotion get the better of you, the easier a target you are."

"Stuff it, wannabe Prime! He's responsible for everything!" Nemesis stabbed a finger at Megatron, the other players in the scene watching it tremble with the black bot's fury.

"Wannabe Prime? Have you lost your mind?" Ultra Magnus clenched a fist.

"No, Nemesis is correct," Megatron said, so calmly that Optimus's attention was drawn to the Tyrannicon leader. He had been so violent and angry before. Why is he relaxed? He's found something to exploit.

"Magnus, you've tried to do so much and you've failed. You're a peacekeeper who allowed war to break out." Megatron paused. "Nemesis, I offered you redemption, and you spat in my face. The foolhardy member of our group. And Optimus. Orion." Megatron's voice softened, a silken whisper. "What I once might have called a friend."

Optimus lowered his gun. It was a mistake. Megatron capitalized on the move; he rolled forward, under the barrel, and bashed it aside as Optimus tried to correct. The blast discharged and smashed into Elita-1, fracturing her head and leaving her completely inactive.

Leaving her dead.

No. Not at my hands. I didn't. I couldn't. No! Before the howl of fury and anguish could escape Optimus's throat, Nemesis roared, his optics blazing. He pounced...

And Megatron shoved Optimus into his way. Beset upon by his once-friend, Optimus found the other bot as powerful as he was, but so much more vicious here, scrabbling to tear at his optics, one hand wrestling with the gun. "You killed her! You and him both! You monsters!" he screeched.

Megatron sidestepped the scuffle and fired a shot at Magnus; the Autotrooper leader backpedaled to avoid it, letting Brawl up as a result. The lieutenant smashed Magnus with both hands, knocking him off balance, and the next blast scorched through Magnus's chest plate, leaving him with a gaping hole.

"Ha! Yes! One more falls to my whim! What can you do now but flee, Optimus? You have nothing you can threaten me with! All your advantages fall one by one." Megatron strode slowly toward them. "And it is all because you underestimated me. Underestimated my might. All your troops shall fall before the Tyrannicons."

Magnus staggered, still active, a testament to the Autotrooper commander's armor. Megatron glared at him and as Optimus finally managed to kick off Nemesis, he stared in horror as Brawl ripped off Magnus's tank cannon and blasted him with it, sending the commander's body flying meters away where it landed on the ground with a thud. He didn't move.

The thoughts whirled through Optimus's mind. He had to stop them. But how? Megatron wasn't wrong: the Autobots might have come in force, but Optimus was barely holding the Kaon base, and no one had seen any sign of Insecticon reinforcements. If Shockwave and the Insecticons came, it would be over instantly. So why hadn't they?

Nemesis, still in the throes of his own uncontrollable anger, this time leaped at Megatron, slamming feet-first into the Tyrannicon's chest. Brawl moved to extricate his leader only to receive a knock out punch, sending him reeling. "You want to kill us all, Megatron? Start with me. Come on, fearless leader! Why can't you take down one Autobot?"

Megatron grunted, and then flipped and pinned Nemesis. "It's not that difficult when you play into my hands, you shortsighted idiot! Or did you not realize you clued me in on how much she meant to you?" Nemesis stilled.

And then he roared again, hammering Megatron with blow after blow, raining down fists upon him. Megatron defended himself with both forearms up, the metal denting inward before he managed to fire a few shots and cause Nemesis to back off.

"You don't deserve to live," he snarled.

"Don't I? You've lived a life of servitude as Dion, and still were slaved to adoration. And now you tell me I don't deserve life, the ultimate freedom? You, who have been nothing but a slave and rejected my offer of salvation?"

"Don't believe his lies!" Optimus bellowed, firing a round at Megatron's head. I can't let him corrupt any more of us. Corrupt the world. He'll destroy us all.

"Lies!? I speak truth, Orion!" Megatron ducked, firing his own round, which rang true: it smashed into Optimus's chest full-on, sending him reeling backward. That his armor stood up to the blow where Magnus's did not proved his armor stronger, though not by much. It hurt. Achingly so. He glanced downward, seeing Energon scorch marks, the plating scored deep.

Nemesis tackled Megatron, and the Tyrannicon finally managed to beat him back and swung his cannon into the black bot's face. The force of the blow knocked Nemesis out cold, and the two leaders were left on their own at last.

"As it was in the beginning. Prima, and Megatronus." Megatron pursed his lips. "How history repeats."

"You liken us to Primes? How arrogant of you."

"Are we not akin to them? Our power, not physical, not weapons-based. Our power of ideology. Leading factions."

"I do not lead, Megatron. I merely suggest. Others may choose their own course. That is what it means to be truly free."

The two Cybertronians stood opposite one another, neither moving. Bodies now littered the floor, unconscious and dead alike. Optimus fired the first shot, missing Megatron by a wide margin even as the Tyrannicon leader missed his own first blast. Each dove for cover, and neither noticed the ground beginning to rumble.

Neither noticed the light outside growing brighter. So focused were they that until the transwarp wave crashed into the ground, sending a gargantuan quake in its wake, they failed to notice, locked in their own struggle.

* * *​

"Oh, Skywarp. You were so truly inept. So useless. But I'm going to finally put you to proper use," Starscream muttered to himself. The Seeker had traveled nonstop after escaping from Chromedome and the Blitzwings with only one purpose in mind: escape. But not to flee for his own hide, as many would have assumed.

His goal was more power, and to that end, he converted and landed on the front steps of the Cybertronian State Mausoleum, where he and Thundercracker had interred the body of Skywarp. He had never been fond of the Mausoleum. A place to store the dead? A waste. Darkmount's smelting pit was a much crueler but more efficient idea, to reuse the fallen warriors to make stronger ones yet. If they failed again, they simply were used as materials for the next troops. An admirable endeavor.

"I should have pulled out his warp cog myself when he died. This place is so unpleasant." He opened the holographic panel on the door, releasing multiple locks: even in the wartime state, the bodies were considered sacred.

The interior of the mausoleum was dank, darkened. It consisted of labyrinthine hallways, each with numbered doors, a simple name plaque beneath each. No power for ages had been here, not that the bodies needed to be stored at a particular temperature. Only the oldest Cybertronians would have succumbed to rust, and the newer bodies wouldn't have noticed the living conditions. "After all, they're all dead anyway," Starscream remarked glibly, before realizing he was talking to himself.

A second later, a cataclysmic rumble shook him off his feet and he landed on his skid plate. "What in the name of Primus?" A blackened-purple light seeped into the room from the view ports set into the walls. "I'd better hurry. That could have been a superweapon."

In haste, he found Skywarp's place of rest, only to find the door broken off its hinges. He took a step back from it, then shook off the fear. Why am I afraid at all? He's dead. Something obviously tried to ravage him. Maybe a wild turbofox or something. Not my problem. I just need to get his warp cog and get out. Hardly something difficult.

He crept into Skywarp's room, and noted the stasis chamber was open. "Okay, now it's starting to be a little freaky." He stepped around and peered into it. Empty, as he was afraid of. He about-faced, and saw the telltale shimmer of the warp cog.

"Who goes there? Someone looting bodies, no doubt. A capital offense!" He tried to sound officious, but there wasn't any real merit to it. In wartime like this, there could be no upholding of law. Everyone was too busy fighting.

He heard a blade unsheathing, but couldn't pinpoint its location. Starscream snapped his null rays up on his arms, charging them. "I am Air Commander Starscream of the Tyrannicon Battle Fleet and Cybertronian Defense Force! If you show yourself now and surrender, the punishment for having desecrated the body of one of my former comrades will be lighter!"

No response. He looked around again, not seeing the warp cog's shimmer, and not hearing anything else. This was a bad idea. I never should have come here. I'm even trying to taunt whoever this is about desecrating bodies when that's exactly what I came here to do.

Starscream made a squeaking noise when a scraping sound, metal on metal, echoed into the room from the hall. The kind of noise a sword would make if dragged along a floor. "Come out, now!" He began blasting the area indiscriminately, trying to pin something he couldn't see.

The warp cog shimmered in front of him and he fired numerous blasts directly at it, but didn't hit anything. The sword was promptly shoved through his chest from behind, a long, thin blade with a tapered edge.

The voice was somehow similar to Skywarp's: gruff and brutal, but somehow even deeper, as if the vocoder had been fundamentally altered somehow. "Air Commander? A useless rank. Starscream... I remember you."

He gasped. The pain! I can't think! "Who...?" he managed to say.

A boot was planted on his back and the unknown assailant shoved him off the sword. Starscream scrabbled away, flipping around to see who attacked him.

Purple. Tall. Dark highlights. A horned head, with an excessively Cybertronian jet mode for an alternate form. "For what little remains of your life, you will know me as Cyclonus. First of the Decepticons to come under His Watchful Eye...but not the last."

"Who is...He?"

Cyclonus didn't answer. He smiled, and brought the sword down two-handed: the last thing Starscream saw was the glint of it as it whistled toward his face.

 

Onwards. Darker, deeper. Is there a light at the end of the tunnel?

Of course not.

Unfortunately, due to delays with my real life stuff, no toy pics for a little bit, sadly. However, new chapter! I'm really sorry these aren't quite the same quality. It's not that I've lost my taste for the work -- more that I've been so busy I rather would get a slightly less polished chapter out than delay much longer, given the delays don't give me much of a better chapter, frankly. When I do the comprehensive edit / rewrite, the whole thing will flow much better.

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Chapter XXXIV: Generals
The Energon drained from Hound's servos in fright as he stared at the chaotic slaughter in front of him. Dozens of Cybertronians, Autobots and Decepticons alike, all cut down, ripped to pieces with nary a sign of a weapon. Needlenose, next to him, hopped out of the groundbridge with a thud. He looked around, emitting a small "oh".

Bodies. Everywhere, bodies. Each seemed somehow more ancient or fearsome than a contemporary Cybertronian. Many of them seemed to bear wounds from previous attacks. Given the Chaosbringer physically arriving on Cybertron, it wasn't surprising there were so many. But the most unnerving part was the duo casually sitting atop the pile of corpses, with no spilled Energon anywhere near them. As if a force field of some kind protected them.

The first, jet black, large VTOL wings on his back. A visor face with a thick bottom faceplate. Red lighting surging through his body. No apparent legs, or they combined to form a single hover unit. The other, an almost garish pink hue, with golden details and a beige secondary paint scheme. A thick, powerful body, thinner arms. A face full of vents and grilles. Neither seemed to notice Sentinel's messengers.

"Are you Obsidian and Strika?" Hound asked. Oh, Primus. If this is them, they're so much worse than I expected. They're as bad as the Blitzwings. Maybe worse. Who are these two?

The jet black one glanced at the pair, sized them up. He nudged the pink one.

"I am Strika. My partner here is Obsidian. We are whom you seek." The voice was female, and Hound had to cover his momentary surprise.

Needlenose crept forward. "I, uh, I'm not an official messenger or anything, but we need your help. There's a war going on, and, well..."

Obsidian snickered. "We've noticed. Have you?"

Needlenose blinked, and looked at Hound. Have we noticed? I should think so! "What are you referring to?" Hound said, trying to keep his tone as inoffensive as possible. No sense in risking making the killers angry.

"While you all have been busy with your Autobots and Tyrannicons, we've been getting things ready," Obsidian muttered.

"Ready for what? Unicron?"

Strika flipped into the air, landing heavily in front of Sentinel's messengers; up close, she was far bulkier than expected, almost twice the size of both Hound and Needlenose alike.

"Don't. Mention. That. NAME," she hissed.

"I'm sorry!" Hound put up his hands placatingly, and Strika batted him aside the second he did. He tumbled into a pile of bodies, retching as the smell overwhelmed his olfactory sensors.

"Hey!" Needlenose cried, and moved to help him before Obsidian's blaster was pointed directly in his face.

"An unwise decision. Consider: Cybertron itself is under assault. Put aside your petty factions. They are meaningless," Obsidian said in a silken tone. He converted into a large VTOL, thick turbines propelling him upward into the air. "Get on, if you do not have a flight mode, and I will show you the truth."

Hound clambered out of the bodies, shaking himself off, and jumped onto Needlenose instead as the former Tyrannicon converted to alternate mode, riding his jet like an organic rode a mount. Strika easily hopped up on Obsidian, and the quartet flew up high into the sky, Needlenose having to circle Obsidian several times as they gained altitude.

"What are we supposed to be looking for?" Hound asked, only to be silenced by Strika turning her head towards him. The burgeoning dawn sent a flame-red color searing through the sky, illuminating everything now that they were so high up.

"There! On the ground in front of us. Look at the pile of bodies closest to the city." Obsidian turned on a targeting laser, pointing to a small cluster of corpses. They appeared to be moving.

Wait, they're alive? Survivors! "We have to help them!"

"It would be the right thing to do," Needlenose chimed in.

"There are no survivors." Obsidian's tone was flat, unemotional. He swept down, forcing the messengers to follow, and as they saw the truth, their servos turned to ice. Dead Autobots and Tyrannicons. Shambling creatures.

"This is the foe you face. The legion of an entire war's dead. Reactivated. They aim to do one thing: kill all Cybertronian life. But these are merely drones. The generals still exist." Obsiaidn revved up his chaingun, raining down a storm of bullets upon the undead Cybertronians. They were cut to pieces instantly, and Hound shuddered at the power of the strange black Transformer.

"Who are you two, really?" Needlenose pried.

Strika laughed. "The children do not know, my love."

"They will know us more in time. We must be frank." Obsidian angled a forward light onto Needlenose and Hound, as if watching the pair. "We are the generals who led the Autobots to victory at the behest of Sentinel Prime. And we are the instruments who shall save Cybertron once more from total annihilation."

* * *​

Bumblebee crashed through the wall and dove at Rampage, catching the Tyrannicon off guard. No one expects the scout. Use it to your advantage. We've lost so many. We won't lose more! We won't!

"Bumblebee!? Kid, get out of here, now!" Kup cried, motioning him away. The scene was apparent in a heartbeat: the transwarp wave had interrupted the fight, which was going badly for the Autobots. Jazz dead on the floor. Ironhide flagging badly. And Kup, valiantly putting up a fight against the seemingly unstoppable Rampage.

Rampage roared. "You Autobots are like insects, you never die without three more cropping up!" He shoved Bumblebee off him, firing a missile at Ironhide at the same time.

Ironhide rolled out of the way, firing a salvo at Rampage. The two traded fire, even as Bumblebee rolled back to Kup to figure out what next.

"Son, you should have stayed in bed. This ain't gonna be pretty."

Bumblebee whirred and beeped in response. The wording was fairly clear, as far as Cybertronian code went: I won't abandon you. I owe you everything. You and the others saved me.

Kup sighed, and then pulled out a grenade. "Use this, kid. We're going to feint, get in close. Get that in his ridiculous mouth. Blow him apart from the inside out. That's our only chance."

Bumblebee nodded, and then ducked as Ironhide was sent flying backward, smashing into the wall with a crunching noise. He groaned.

"Good luck!" Kup pulled out his shotgun and began firing blasts en masse at Rampage, who couldn't shrug them off; he folded his door wings over to try and compensate for the damage.

Bumblebee converted to vehicle mode, slamming on the gas and mashing lights-first into Rampage's body, knocking the Tyrannicon over. He stuffed the grenade into Rampage's face as rapidly as he could, jamming it deep into his mouth. As he transformed back to robot mode to escape, he pulled the pin.

Rampage flailed and made a guttural choking noise. All three Autobots stared and watched. Blow up. Blow up! Bumblebee mentally cursed.

Rampage reached into his own mouth, dislocating his jaw to do so, and pulled out the grenade, crashing his other hand around it. He put his door wings in front of his body and the grenade exploded in a violent fury, knocking everyone off their feet.

Dazed. Dizzy. Find out what happened. Is he dead? On your guard. Bumblebee was wrenched from his thoughts as Rampage's scorched hand grabbed him by the head, throwing him into the wall so brutally his windshield cracked in several places.

"Stinking Autobots. That was underhanded. But I'm stronger than you give me credit for," Rampage snarled, cracking his jaw back into place. He wavered on his feet, belying his words, and the Autobots noticed the scorch marks all over his body.

"Attack now!" Ironhide commanded. A screeching noise echoed into the hall instead, and all four Transformers were brought to their knees as Jazz's corpse began peeling itself apart, rearranging itself, even gaining mass from the surroundings. It darkened its metal and paint, thickening portions. Armor plates cobbled themselves together, smoothing into perfect uniformity. A golden visor flared up in the center of the face, now covered by a faceplate.

He stood in the center of the hallway serving as arena, as tall as Rampage now. Black, silver. Gold detail, and a red translucent chest, now hiding a repaired spark, which swirled darkly beneath a Decepticon sigil. "Soundblaster activates under His Watchful Eye. Begin Operation: Termination."

"What? I killed you!" Rampage staggered, and backpedaled as the new Decepticon Soundblaster turned to stare at him.

"Tyrannicon Rampage identified. Threat assessment: neutral." Soundblaster turned its penetrating gaze back on the Autobots, analyzing each. "Ironhide. Kup. Bumblebee. Threat assessments: hostile."

"Hah! Your own buddy comes back from the dead to kill you. Too rich! I'd stick around and help out, but I have better things to do!" Rampage mocked, turning and hobbling away.

Bumblebee wheeped in protest. "Let him go, kid," Kup muttered. "This guy is the real problem. Jazz, are you even in there anymore?"

Soundblaster stared at the trio in silence. He turned toward the hallway behind him, where Rampage had fled. "Commander...emerge from your stasis."

* * *​

Ultra Magnus felt cold. Ice cold. He floated in a dim blackness, perhaps the inky nature of space itself. The seething, writhing touch of something was worming its way into whatever might have been left of his spark. It hurt. Excruciatingly so. Which begged the question: was he dead? How could he be, if he felt pain? Or was this a kind of nervous system shutdown scenario, where his body had expired, but whatever was trying to peel him apart happened to also be animating him?

And then the voice echoed in his head. "I have summoned you for a purpose." The colossal planetoid appeared in his vision. All-encompassing. All-knowing. Powered by the darkest of all Energon.

"Summoned me? I'm dead. I cannot be summoned."

"Then it pleases me to do the impossible."

"You're him, aren't you?"

"I am known as the Chaosbringer... Unicron."

"And what does a fell god desire with a mere soldier?"

The laughter of Unicron exploded in his head, destroyed his mind. It was incomprehensible. Universes died. Planets rupturing. Millions, billions dying. All from the laugh. Magnus knew it could not be. But the incredible pain persisted. "You have a grand purpose. You shall be the foremost of my legions. You shall lead the Decepticons."

"And if I refuse?"

"You cannot. Else you live an eternity of torment. An eternity knowing I will torment everyone around you, and find another to be my herald. As you do not command, others, less merciful, will. Choose."

The weight of the universe seemed to crash in on Magnus's head. The intense pressure turned what little he could see into a mass of red. And then he gasped out the words. "Will you allow me to protect them?"

"I will allow you a modicum of restraint."

"Then..."

"You accept."

Magnus wanted desperately to say no. To say he couldn't. But there was no real choice. No guarantee Unicron would stand by his word, but then, no guarantee he would not, either. And to be able to be repaired, and protect his people again... The Fallen had once survived Unicron's influence, and so too could he.

He arose to his feet, and opened his eyes, banishing the illusory visions before him. A tableau of corpses of the weak lay around him, and he strode through the Kaon base. Optimus and Megatron had fled. Doubtless they had taken Brawl and Nemesis with them.

He could not be called Ultra Magnus any longer. His body was now almost pure black, red lighting illuminating small portions which he knew would become the cockpit of his vehicle mode. Pale purple accents flared out. A bold Decepticon logo emblazoned on his chest, somehow not as offensive as it was before. The lurid glow of purple Energon flowing through him, shining through several translucent portions of his body.

He bashed through the wall of the meeting room, finding Soundblaster there, confronting three of the Autobots. They stared in awe at him. Understandable. He was changed now, for the better. He was, notably, smaller than Soundblaster. It intrigued him. For all of Unicron's talk of being a herald, he barely was larger than Bumblebee.

"Galvatron..." Soundblaster breathed, and dropped to one knee.

"Arise." Galvatron waved him off. Is that my name? It suits me. Perhaps not the most fitting name. But it will have to do. "And what of you Autobots? Will you fight or flee?"

Bumblebee beeped, and pulled out a pistol. Galvatron sighed. "Always there are those who choose the path of most resistance. And in turn, always there are those who must be put down like rabid animals."

Kup fired his first blast at Galvatron, and the leader took the blow dead-on, completely ignoring it. The shells simply deflected from his armor, and he brushed off his shoulder.

Soundblaster responded in turn, firing a salvo from a shoulder cannon which would have peppered Kup and shredded his armor, if not for Bumblebee jumping in the way. He took all of the fire for Kup, the light fading from his eyes with a sad beep as he died, falling to the ground a now-emaciated wreck.

"Delusions of fools. All of you will fall...but how peacefully is the question?" Galvatron squeezed off a quick shot from his arm cannon, blasting through Kup's torso. Possibly fatal, possibly not. He collapsed, and Ironhide dove on top of them as Galvatron came closer to check the damage.

"Stop! You can't kill 'em! Hasn't there been enough death for one day? Look in your spark for some mercy!"

Galvatron hesitated. Was Ironhide correct? Had there been enough death for the day? There was, after all, a war that had been raging for some time now. His former self had been inadequate to deal with it, unlike the previous war, and indeed, much of the combat had resulted in relatively senseless bloodshed.

Then the voice of Unicron intruded on his mind once more. "Be wary of the Autobot tricks they will employ to deceive you, to remove you from your purpose. Yours is a goal to spread my wisdom and glory throughout this planet. You must destroy him. He is a false prophet, Galvatron, one who will stand in your way if you do not. Obey."

Galvatron hesitated no more, kicking Ironhide off of the other Autobots' bodies. "Such heroic nonsense." He blasted off Ironhide's head, leaving the bot's running lights to turn gray and cold. Dead.

"Come, Soundblaster. We leave. There is much to discuss. We must meet with my other legions."

"And Kup?" Soundblaster queried.

"An irrelevant old soldier, decrepit even when I had been Ultra Magnus. Who among us has been reformatted into the new order?"

Soundblaster processed. "His Watchful Eye has revived Galvatron, Cyclonus, Scourge, Flatline, Sideways, and Soundblaster."

"Excellent. We begin soon. Come."

* * *​

Kup gasped for air. The hole through him was far too damaging. A medic came upon the trio, saw the bodies. He waved for attention. Thought he waved. No one saw anything. No one did anything. More medics. Blurry. One medic? Multiple? He scratched at the medic's arm. Help Bumblebee. He saved me. Kid's got scrap. Help him. Use me to help him.

The indescribable pain led to more pain. He could feel them rooting around inside him, trying to save them. He kept telling them to stop. To try and save Bumblebee and Ironhide. When they tossed Ironhide's body aside, Kup knew he had been too far gone. But what of the scout? Surely enough of his functions still existed. Surely he could be repaired.

And then Kup awoke with a start in bed in Autotrooper Headquarters. The room was dark. Several hours had passed. A storm raged outside, along with the now common sound of skirmishes.

Ratchet rocked back and forth next to him, Bumblebee's corpse on the following table. He was muttering something under his breath. As Kup leaned in, he listened: "Couldn't save him no parts no parts anywhere nobody's left," in a constant mantra.

Kup flung the sheet back, and Ratchet instantly reacted, snapping up with his pistol at the ready. Kup put up his hands and Ratchet relaxed. "Sorry. Jumpy now. There...was a battle."

"Yeah. You don't have to tell me what happened. The Constructicons aren't here anymore, I'm guessing." He paused. "You need parts?"

"I do. Bumblebee is...well, he's dead. Kind of. But he can be reactivated, upgraded even. But there's nothing anywhere. No one can do anything. I even called Pharma, and he doesn't have anything through the black market. The entirety of Cybertron's medicine has ground to a halt due to this accursed war."

Kup took a deep breath. "Then take my parts, and repair the kid."

 

Hey guys. My deepest apologies for how long it's been to update things. I've been having a number of real life issues going on, including having some major computer work done, finishing my Master's degree (so I officially am done with school, yaaaay) and getting inundated with work and what-have-you. A great deal of other, more personal issues have also prevented me from updating Warhead.

I am not, however, going to stop. There will be a new chapter soon! Life has more or less conspired lately to really make things problematic, that's all. A quick idea of what the next chapter will be:

-The Blitzwings and Wreckers come to...an agreement?
-Galvatron meets Cyclonus and his other troops

More soon!

 

Finally, we're back! This is a pretty exposition and introduction heavy chapter, but also one of the final setup chapters for the finale and sequel books, so enjoy! I do apologize for the significant delay. If all goes well the next few chapters shouldn't have the same issues, though I will likely take time in between books just based on how intensive it's been writing this.

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Chapter XXXV: Burgeoning
Galvatron stood in the midst of the darkened plains outside Kaon. Soundblaster waited beside him, the silent vigil. They waited only for one thing: the arrival of his remaining troops. His remaining subcommanders. He knew, of course, that these subcommanders were picked almost at random by Unicron. Perhaps they had purpose, perhaps not. More importantly, he was going to find out if he could trust them. He closed his optic channels, attuning himself to his surroundings, his own emotions in relative turmoil from his recent "birth".

His insides felt twisted. His power coils seemed wrapped around his spark chamber, protecting it in a twisted manner. It rendered the faintest nausea, a roiling in his gut. His face kept contorting naturally into a frown or scowl, despite his attempts to keep it neutral. Galvatron had tried to commune with Unicron, to attempt to learn more of his new form, his purpose, but the connection apparently was one-way. And the dark god was, at the moment, not interested in talking. Fitting, perhaps, given Galvatron had only a mild desire to speak with him. Remembering The Fallen's torment was enough for the moment.

As if on cue, a Cybertronian jet clad in purple paint thundered through the sky, smashing heavily into the ground as Cyclonus converted into his robot mode, the pointed horns on his head looking demonic. Galvatron measured the newcomer: angular, long, lanky. A swordsman. The leader of the armada, then. And perhaps one to watch, based on how he in turn was not as slavishly devoted as Soundblaster. His eyes openly quested Galvatron's form, as if daring the new Decepticon leader to address it. The trio sat in complete silence, Soundblaster's hand tensing and relaxing as the only betrayal of the Decepticon's emotion.

A heavy bomber lolled its way through the skies subsequently, blue and bone white, and crashed into the ground without any of Cyclonus's grace. This one seemed vaguely familiar to Galvatron, and doubtless was one of those whom he had encountered before its death. As the bomber converted, its wings folded onto its back counter to Seeker style, with points down, two large turbines on the shoulders, and revealed a long, sallow face, dark stripes on the faceplate mimicking organic facial hair. He nodded to the trio. "I am Scourge...the tracker."

"Pleasantries and original identity when we are all present," Galvatron commanded, and Scourge lapsed into silence. It seemed implicit and natural that Galvatron command, though whatever was left of Ultra Magnus in him knew that was less his own leadership skills and more the will of Unicron cowing these various elements into submission. It begged the question of whether Unicron would continue to allow him to command or strip him of it in a time of need. The dark god seemed pleased with such things, based on Galvatron's limited experience.

A motorcycle type blitzed across the plains, followed by a large transport vehicle. The two converted, and these seemed perhaps the strangest out of the group: the motorcycle lankier than Cyclonus, shorter than the rest of the group, a vivid purple and golden hue to it, vibrant green eyes. The transport converted into a thick and cumbersome trooper, black on black with teal blue, the color shining from its eyes over the segmented mouthplate.

"Names, and who you once were. You first," Galvatron nudged Soundblaster.

"Soundblaster. Once Autobot Jazz. Communications."

Cyclonus stepped forward. "Cyclonus. Once Decepticon Seeker Skywarp. Military operations." No hesitation in his voice. Perhaps this Cyclonus was not the rebellious type after all. Or perhaps he was merely biding his time. Galvatron nonetheless got the distinct sense Cyclonus wasn't the type to wait to spring a trap.

"Scourge. Before, I was Ramjet of the Seeker Armada. Tracking and logistics." This one would be obedient, Galvatron noted. Competent would be another story.

The motorcycle stepped forward. "Sideways. A once prisoner, once Vehicon, once bounty hunter Lockdown." His eyes darted among the group. "Now an espionage officer." Frightened, paranoid. A bundle of neuroses. Appropriate for an espionage officer.

The final member of the group stepped forward, and Galvatron raised a brow as he realized this one had a very strange design compared to the rest of them, somehow more angular and less Cybertronian. "Flatline. I used to be Treadshot of the Seekers." He looked at his body, wheeled. "Not a jet anymore. Medical officer."

"And I am Galvatron, your commander. I was once the Autotrooper commander Ultra Magnus, before my spark was strengthened and reforged. We have but one goal, my brothers." He swept his eyes across the others. Somewhere, whatever used to be Ultra Magnus cried out in frustration at the futility of trying to fight the influence of Unicron. "Our goal is to subjugate Cybertron under His Watchful Eye. By any means necessary."

All of them raised a fist in the air. "All hail Galvatron!" He detected no hint of deception in their rallying cry, though Cyclonus smiled at him in a way most unsettling.

"The first objective is simple. Does anyone have an idea of what I'm talking about?"

Sideways slung himself forward in an undulating motion. "The Ark. The Autobot ship. Their method of escape," he hissed.

"Running from Unicron. The folly of madness," Scourge scoffed.

"Is it folly, to them?" Flatline replied. "Their civilization is crumbling. Everything is falling apart. Half of them want to fight to save the world as they did before. The other half realize their own futility. Their own impending reformatting."

"You're all idiots," came Cyclonus's quiet voice. Galvatron glanced sharply at him, and held a hand up when Soundblaster moved to give the soldier a rebuke.

Cyclonus looked at him, and when Galvatron nodded he continued. "They aren't fleeing. They're regrouping. Yes, likely on another world. But you yourself admitted the futility of fighting Unicron, Flatline. They go for reinforcements. And while he is infallible, Unicron has been defeated before, in his corporeal body."

Galvatron narrowed his eyes, even as Unicron's laughter echoed in his mind. Yes, this one bears watching. He speaks his mind too freely. "Unicron nonetheless shall prevail, Cyclonus. We will see to that."

Galvatron turned to the explosions still going off in Kaon, the city doubtless soon to be little more than a wreck. Yes. One by one, the heretics all will fall. Whether to my subjects, our drones, or my own bare hands. I will tear apart Sentinel Prime, and every other Autobot, until the Matrix is destroyed. The thought darted from his mind, before he could wonder precisely what the Matrix-as-object was, or where the thought originated.

* * *​

Wheeljack hesitated, carrying Arcee in his chassis. The entire group had been staggered when Unicron hit. But even before that, he hadn't actually expected them to stop fighting when he took her hostage: just to buy time so he could get everyone out. And that's when the constant rumbling started. Telltale. Insectoid. Familiar.

"What is that?" Grimlock sniffed the air. "Perceptor, sensor sweep."

"We have a few thousand Insecticons closing in. There is an unidentified unit leading them. No faction registry I can tell. Anomalous Energon readings too. Strange." Perceptor frowned.

"No registry? At all?" Wheeljack pressed.

Perceptor gave him a look, then looked to Grimlock, who nodded. "No, no registry at all. Why?"

Scrap. Not good. Not good at all. "Shockwave turned on us, then. I was afraid this might happen. He once was a Tyrannicon. He's a cannibal, infused himself with Dark Energon, and he's got control of the entire Insecticon hive." Wheeljack paused. "He also made them all Targetmasters using his own excess processing power."

Chromedome cursed. "Targetmasters. Great. I guess Shockwave isn't much for loyalty. He's become so different."

Wheeljack shot Chromedome a look, wondering where this bot came from. He built the Blitzwings and some fembots, has met Shockwave, is some kind of weird mutant jacked into someone else's body...what is this guy? Wheeljack hesitated again. "I propose a temporary truce, if only to get out of here before Shockwave shows up. I doubt even you Blitzwings could handle an entire Insecticon hive."

Grimlock snorted. "We have before. Though we lost a member. So I'm not keen on doing it again." He seemed almost wistful before the familiar flare of red optics took over in his face.

Arcee kicked open Wheeljack's door from the inside, and he made a wheezing noise as she clambered out. "Then we all need to get out of here as a group. We're all going to the same place anyway. The Ark."

"You are. I won't stop fighting them," Barricade snarled.

"Barricade, at ease. Do you want to get wrecked yourself? We have bigger concerns." Wheeljack pondered. That rumble which interrupted everything had to be Unicron himself. The quaking of the ground was getting louder, more insistent.

"We have got to get out of here as soon as possible," Perceptor said quietly.

"For once I'm not keen on dying. Shall we?" Air Raid rested an arm on Perceptor's shoulder, which the other bot simply looked at before ignoring.

Arcee sighed. "The Wreckers can come with us. You can stay behind if you want, but it looks like Shockwave isn't much interested in playing for a team anymore."

Wheeljack watched Barricade. He would be the sole problem player of the Wreckers. Inferno was dead. Drag Strip didn't care. Dead End was scared. And Wheeljack didn't like the Tyrannicons much anymore. But Barricade was difficult.

Losing his partner was too hard on him. He wouldn't have ever managed to cope without us. Explains why he's still with us after so long, the only other Wrecker. But it was just fun for me. I don't know what all of this means to him. Not really. And to ask him to do this, to pressure him into it, is wrong. But we aren't switching sides. It's just a truce. We're just escaping. Wheeljack wanted to believe that's all it was, but he knew Barricade would see it as a betrayal. Would see it as Wheeljack defecting.

Barricade roared in annoyance, kicking the wall so hard the rest winced at hearing how his servos were grinding from it. "Fine! We'll go! We'll talk more at this Ark and figure out what we're going to do because I will never tolerate the Autobots after what they've done."

Wheeljack resisted the urge to cheer. It was a hollow victory, and one they might come to pay for later when Barricade decided he'd had enough, but for now they could at least escape to safety. "All right. Let's go, then. One group, right?" He stared at the Blitzwings, those enigmatic super soldiers. Stared at the emblem each of them wore, the Autobot logo, but toothier, sharper, angrier. They aren't true Autobots. Not like their counterparts. These are murderers and trained killers.

And I'm the one who got us into this mess.

* * *​

Shockwave Primal stared at what was left of Kaon. At the bodies. The shredded metal, the exoskeletal forms not reshaped by Unicron into new Decepticons. Nothing but a tableau of carnage. The trio of Insecticon elites tittered behind him, their more diminutive forms less imposing behind his own bulk.

"They're gone, my queen," Bombshell hissed.

Shockwave fixed the Insecticon with a single-eyed glare, as it cowered before him.

"Apologies for the name..." it murmured, backing away slightly.

"Cybertronians do not possess defined gendered difference. I am not a queen," Shockwave replied simply, walking forward and crushing a broken Autobot hand beneath his foot.

"They've all fled, fled," Kick Back snarled. It strode forward, the visor on its face glinting in the dim light of the room, the pincers over its shoulders snapping at the air.

Shockwave held up a hand. "Your claim is suspect, Kick Back. There is one life signal still functioning here. I cannot determine its location." But I will find it, and learn of its purpose, and perhaps what has happened here. They cannot have left without assuming I betrayed them, though I did not. But more importantly, the Autobots appear to have lost. So why would the Tyrannicons have run?

"Insecticons, sweep the area. If you find any life signs or corpses of Tyrannicon lieutenants, notify me immediately."

The trio of Insecticon elites responded instantly, leaping and rolling out on their various limbs into the depths of the Kaon base, with Targetmaster drones following suit. Shockwave examined the walls.

Signs of battle. Struggle. But something stronger than an average opponent. Perhaps soldiers of a higher caliber. Shockwave knelt down and analyzed the burn marks on the ground, tracing them to a hole in the wall of the room in which he stood. Outside the hole, one of his lesser Insecticons tittered over a body, alerting him to it even though he already knew. He strode forward, shoving the small purple creature aside as he peered.

A warrior. One of the Wreckers. Inferno. The one whose strange physiology, speech patterns, and unnatural hive mindedness seemed so curious to him. He reached for the body, wondering how Wheeljack had constructed this one, when a voice interrupted him.

"My, my, Shockwave, haven't we come far."

He turned around slowly, already knowing the speaker.

Thundercracker stood, slightly battered from battle, his arms crossed as he leaned up against the wall. The Seeker wore a strangely calm smile on his face, as if he knew full well of some grander plan about which he didn't plan to tell anyone.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure?" Shockwave said.

"Spare me the pleasantries. You're not a Tyrannicon anymore. You're not even a Terrorcon. Whatever you are is something new. Right?"

"Your deduction is logical, though I will not affirm its truthfulness."

Thundercracker laughed. "But still the same as always, I see. Well, don't mind me, please continue desecrating corpses. It is what you so-called Terrorcons do, right?"

Shockwave resisted the urge to react on instinct, to tear Thundercracker apart, no longer bound by petty moral convention, no longer bound to serve anyone. "Your attempt to inflame my ego will not work. What is your purpose here, Thundercracker? Why have you not fled with the Tyrannicons...or the Autobots?"

Thundercracker's smile faded. "Why would you assume I'm working with the Autobots?"

"The body of one of your once comrades, and not once have you told me to avoid touching it, to avoid doing what I will to it. You show no remorse over the loss of the Kaon base. Your emotional register is unusually gleeful for you."

"Maybe I'm just different than what you expected." Thundercracker paused, then leaped out of the way when Kick Back moved to tackle him, planting a foot firmly onto the Insecticon's back as it writhed trying to escape. "Ah ah ah. I'm not stupid like a lot of the generics. If you want to fight me, Shockwave, we'll do it another time. I'm only here to talk."

"Then talk." Shockwave's eye whirred as he focused on Thundercracker's face, reading the tiny smudges of emotion that altered his face sculpt little by little.

Thundercracker leveled his gun at Kick Back, his eyes sweeping the perimeter. "I'll say a little. What if I told you I wasn't an agent of anybody you knew?"

"Explain."

"You're aware I don't work directly for anyone, really. Starscream and Skywarp's life signals are both offline now, so I'm the last of the trio. Megatron doesn't know I'm here and he'd probably want to scrap me since I freed Kup and killed Ramjet. But the Autobots aren't too happy with me either since that's all I did: I didn't switch sides, because I wasn't on anyone's to begin with."

Shockwave quirked his head to the side, trying to figure out Thundercracker's angle. When Shrapnel moved to lunge at him, Shockwave put up a hand and the beast skittered into the shadows.

"I serve one goal, and one goal alone."

"And that is?"

"The destruction of Unicron, through the power of the Autobot Matrix of Leadership."

"And you tell me this why? I can see no logical reason for telling me, let alone assuming I will not speak to the others."

"The others?" Thundercracker laughed. "Shockwave, you're a free agent like me now. You have no alliances anymore, other than to the Insecticons, and they're your slaves, it seems." Shockwave noticed Bombshell bristled at this. "You could even work with me if you so desired, though I doubt you'd keep me around very long."

"What is this Matrix of Leadership?" Shockwave queried.

Thundercracker's face darkened. "The one artifact I lost so many years ago during the war when charged to bring it to safety out of the dying hands of my then-ancient leader." He hesitated. "Prima himself."

"Most interesting a tale. You have not spoken of this item's significance."

"It's the one thing that can destroy Unicron. The one thing we need for the future. It is the will of Primus himself."

In that moment, Shockwave began coveting this Matrix, wanting it for himself. There was one emotion, contrary to popular belief, that ruled Shockwave, and it was the idea of ambition, ruthlessness leading to power. And the exercising of that power to create for himself a true leadership on Cybertron. Logic. Cold. Hard. Pure.

"But you don't want to hear about that!" Thundercracker said suddenly, converting and blazing off through the roof, narrowly avoiding the double tackle by his other two Insecticon elites. They crashed into Kick Back and groaned. Shockwave sighed.

"Quite the show, tall, dark, and gruesome. What's your next plan?" a female voice came from behind him. He turned to see his once Minicon Blackarachnia in her new body, scrounged from Airachnid's parts. Gold. Black. Strangely...sensual.

"The next plan is to escalate the conflict."

 

Hey folks. I haven't forgotten about Warhead, nor my hopeful goal of once a week, nor the goal of posting characters with images and bios associated. I'm still not ready to post the next chapter, between getting a new job and trying to move out. I know, excuses, excuses! But on the flipside Warhead Book I is almost finished up completely, at which point we'll go on a little hiatus between books so I can make sure I have a volume of chapters to post gradually, give me a little time so these sorts of delays don't happen as readily.

In the meantime, some bios!


NAME: Megatron
FACTION: Decepticon / Tyrannicon
ALIASES: D-16
INFO: The charismatic and commanding leader of the Tyrannicons is a foe worth keeping an eye on. While decidedly more devious, conniving, and downright cruel than his propaganda platform states, he is genuinely concerned about the oppressive state of Cybertronian government and wants to make a paradise for all Cybertronians. Notably, his paradise is a world under his own rule, by which he calls the shots, but in which everyone still has a choice, still has freedom. The contradiction is not lost on Megatron, who is intelligent and wily. Part of this is due to his own will to power and will to succeed, and the other part due to his unique origin.
CATCHPHRASE: "Freedom is the right of all sentient beings."


NAME: Orion Pax
FACTION: Autobots / Autotroopers
ALIASES: Optimus
INFO: A data clerk in the employ of the strange Rewind, Orion Pax is a dreamer without merit and a capable leader without any command. As a loyal and faithful friend, he enjoys the status quo even though things could be changed, less on the basis of people being oppressed as the corrupt do, and more on the basis of the peacetime being a more pleasant state than war. He is not above fighting to get what needs to be done happening, but he prefers the peaceful way out. His best friend is the fellow clerk Dion, for whom he feels most responsible.
CATCHPHRASE: N/A


NAME: Nemesis
FACTION: N/A (affiliated Autobots)
ALIASES: Dion
INFO: Once the data clerk Dion and Orion Pax's best friend, he was nearly killed during the first battle with the Terrorcon Shockwave. In the process, he was upgraded and reformatted by Megatron and the Tyrannicons into a more fearsome and foreboding chassis, which he detests, given he now too is infused with Dark Energon, making him, in his mind, something of a wraith, chasing after his old life. He appears to have a deep seated longing to protect and cherish Elita-1, though their relationship is far from clear.
CATCHPHRASE: "I'm a monster."


NAME: Shockwave Primal
FACTION: Decepticon / Tyrannicon / ???
ALIASES: N/A
INFO: The enigmatic scientist and Terrorcon cannibal who created and infused himself with the stable version of the highly manic Energon compound known as Dark Energon. Notable for having created numerous abominations himself and being one personally, as well as having the mental capacity to do far more than the average Cybertronian due to casting aside much of his emotional reasoning in favor of pure logic. He has much more ambition than most, and seems bent on some unusual goal only he knows.
CATCHPHRASE: "Logic is the only answer."

 

Still have not forgotten to update. Some data loss from an attempted intrusion on my network the other day (fixed). Numerous problems at home preventing me from doing a nice big update.

I decided I'm going to let this sit for a while so I can produce the entire rest of the remaining story in one go. I will still update periodically with bios and such (which I apologize for having fallen behind on). To whet your appetites, a few snippets about the upcoming chapters and Book II and III:

1. The seemingly quadruple faction setup (Autobots/troopers, Decepticons, Tyrannicons, Shockwave's troops) is not as complex as it appears, and simplifies as it goes on. This is arguably the most complex part of the mythos.
2. The legacy of the Primes is not going to end with this book...and has no seeming end at all. Warhead can (if I ever get off my butt and finish writing more!) be technically endless books.
3. Be prepared to lose a character you like at some point. Hint hint.
4. Books II and III are simultaneous, but will be written without much crossover. Their finales will blend into one another. Book II is set on Cybertron, and Book III is set...somewhere else.  

That's all for the hinting and tidbits for now...though some of the stuff in the bios is hintworthy. Onward to some more bios. I will try and get a chapter up soon, guys, it's just been really hectic as of late (prep to move, fraud on credit cards, the works).


NAME: Sentinel Prime
FACTION: Autobot
ALIASES: N/A
INFO: The fourteenth of the Thirteen Primes, whose identity as a manufactured Prime created by Solus Prime was kept a secret for many stellar cycles. Now the leader of the Autobot side of Cybertron, he is conflicted with how to deal with his once brother Megatronus Prime, the Fallen, and the insurrectionist Megatron. The end result is a cataclysm of his own making.
CATCHPHRASE: "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few."


NAME: Brawl
FACTION: Vehicon / Tyrannicon
ALIASES: D-17
INFO: A once-Vehicon leader, and now Tyrannicon lieutenant, Brawl is the embodiment of might makes right. As far as he's concerned, the mightiest person in the room is the one he should follow...provided that person is Megatron, or follows Megatron's ideology. He's not too picky about who to mash up, either. Not the brightest, but one of the best combatants.
CATCHPHRASE: "Real 'Cons roll on treads."


NAME: Thundercracker
FACTION: Seeker / Decepticon / Tyrannicon
ALIASES: ???
INFO: Perhaps the most enigmatic of all the Seekers, Thundercracker once served under the original Prima. Or did he? His background is a classified mystery to both his colleagues and closest confidantes, yet he himself is a consummate professional. He seems to know just about everyone and plays it cool, only giving out exactly the information he has to in order to manipulate as necessary.
CATCHPHRASE: N/A


NAME: Optimus
FACTION: Autobot / Autotrooper
ALIASES: Orion Pax
INFO: The upgraded form of Orion Pax, forged from the scalpel of Ratchet and the knowledge of Sentinel Prime. Optimus struggles to balance the weight of his old personality with his terrible new duty, trying to find the right path and knowing he makes every mistake along the way...at the cost of Cybertronian lives.
CATCHPHRASE: "I will fail, but I will never stop trying."

 

Hey, guys. So it's been a long time since I last updated Warhead. Months, in fact. I've tried to keep writing but life has unfortunately gotten in the way, between my original fiction, moving to a new home, getting a promotion and more responsibility at work, and a boatload of other complex stuff. It's been a slow adjustment process. My main goals right now are multiple:

1. Write my book. Like, my actual, hopefully soon to be published book.
2. Warhead.
3. I HAVE NO IDEA but I'm planning a YouTube channel and collaborating with some folks on a game so there's that too. Can you tell I'm a busy bee?  

As far as Warhead goes: I'm thinking I will probably be in EDIT / EXPAND mode for a bit, and adding chunks to it. I'm AIMING to hopefully try and put in a fully revamped and expanded version edited in each post here, but it's not the easiest thing to set up what with all the bb tags. I'll actually have the first chapter revamped and up in just a moment or two. There's not as much added, to be honest: it's more about consistency and editing, though content is being added. The first chapter has had about a full page and a half added, which, while it doesn't seem like a lot, is a little over a tenth of the chapter's original content. Ideally, if I can eke out that much or more on a per-chapter basis, you'd be looking at roughly 2-3 chapters' worth of new content plugged into the vanilla Warhead we had before, as well as more setup for the future now that I've plotted out Warhead more.

I do apologize to you all for how long it's taken me to respond to this topic - some of you may have wondered why I was active yet didn't respond or update further in the topic, and the simple answer is that it's hard to justify absences, and I was tired of giving you guys excuses. But rest assured, Warhead is forthcoming.

And the ending of the first book shall be glorious.

EDIT: Just updated the first chapter with Book I's refreshed first chapter. Ideally, I'd like to clean all of this stuff up, have people reread it fresh, and then continue, as it'll be a lot more consistent, characterized, and fun. It won't take as long to produce the edited version of Warhead, and subsequently we'll move to the next chapter proper. Again, guys, I'm sorry I left off so close to the end of Warhead. I promise you'll be super happy about what happens next.

 

Second chapter updated. I think, in order to prevent major bloat before the next chapter, I'll take a little longer between chapter refreshes to knock out swathes of the story in one go, so you guys don't have to check it so often and so I can update everything at once much faster. Early on stuff won't be affected too badly.

On a side note, I've decided that there will be some side story stuff, namely Spotlight kind of issues, which delve into moments in the past or situations centered on characters who we don't see too often, such as Swindle. No word on when the first will drop, but I can assure you guys they will not affect the overall pace of Warhead.