Seibertron.com Transtopia Roundup! July 2019

“Why can I see so much?” asked Stohv as he stood in a desolate area of scrub. “Thousands of people are converging on Neosiak City and I can already see most of them. How can that be, with our confounded interference plague? It shouldn’t be possible! Don’t just sit there: answer me this riddle!” He stared at his meagre, lifeless audience as he sweated in the evening heat. Droplets tickled down his skin. The five watchers were totally impassive. All they did was rust, peel and accumulate dust. Stohv’s vision flickered like a stroboscope but they sat useless in the dirt. They were five machines that were slowly returning to the earth. Most impressive was the space capsule, with its tough exterior seared by furnace-like burns. Next to that was a boat, a car, an aeroplane without wings and a small tunnel boring platform. Together, they made an abysmal assembly of uncommunicative wrecks but they were better than a group of critical people. Wrecks wouldn’t try to lock him up but neither would they offer any opinions.

“Forget it, I’ll just have to get through this on my own, as usual,” said Stohv, sitting on the floor. “I can do it but I have to remember the basics like eating, drinking, breathing and so forth.” He closed his eyes and re-engaged with the ridiculous reality shifts occurring in his brain.

WHAT did I TELL you? WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT TAMPERING WITH MY SHIP’S SYSTEMS?” What were my EXACT words?” Scamper raged with a fury.

“Uh…” Wheeljack looked down at his feet and began pressing his fingertips together, for he genuinely did not remember. “Don’t?” The scientist guessed.

“IF I FOUND YOU TINKERING WITH SOMETHING ONE MORE TIME,” Scamper said, making a grand gesture of repeating himself, “I WAS GOING TO SHOVE YOUR NEW INVENTION SO FAR UP YOUR EXHAUST PORT RATCHET WOULD HAVE TO REMOVE IT FROM YOUR GLOVEBOX!”

It was then that Wheeljack remembered why he used so many screws to mount his new contraption.

“I’ don’t see what you are so worked up about, Scamper.” He said almost sounding apologetic. “Nothing has exploded, yet. I was just trying to-”

Dead End zoomed across Kaon Plaza as an unfamiliar figure pursued him. A flurry of missiles battered the Plaza's front by the pursuer's friends as its citizens fled. After thankfully hiding in a small corridor, Dead End looked up the pursuer's body type and stats and discovered it was the Knight Steelbane. His heart raced for he knew the Knights of Iacon were practically unstoppable.

"Wildbreak, Slashmark, come in."

"Guys!"

While Dead End yelled in his messenger for his teammates, the Stunticons, Steelbane got more closer to him. Steelbane struck him down with a swing of his mighty blade, and Dead End was down on the ground, hurt.

Two days had passed and Quickstrike was lying on his side on the cold, hard floor of his cell. His entire body was shaking, but not because of the temperature of the room but from the pain that was coursing through his body. Because the Autobot had just gone through another torture session with Rip-Claw, the sadistic Femme that took pleasure in inflicting pain on to others. And what Quickstrike had gone through in the last twenty-four hours could only be described as hell, pure and simple.

That Predacon bitch was going through every torture method she knew which appeared to be all of them, and the Autobot was not even sure how she managed to inflict so much on him in the span of a day...but she had. The Femme would torture him for an entire hour, then leave him alone for an hour in which time Ser-Ket would tend his wounds and then Rip-Claw would return an hour later to start again. He did not know how he had taken so much pain in such a short time, but he knew that he could not give in and let that bitch win.