The neon glow of Las Vegas pulsed around us, a spectacle of lights dancing in shades of red, blue, and gold, reflecting off the glass facades of the casinos. The air was thick with the constant hum of slot machines, muffled laughter, and the clinking of coins spilling into metal trays.
A sweet scent of perfume mingled with a faint trace of cigar smoke, creating an atmosphere that was both vibrant and stifling. I wasn't a stranger to places like this, but I'll admit I rarely ventured into casinos, my incorrigible habit of cheating made these environments a temptation, let's say, a dangerous one.
I wore a sleek black suit, the fabric hugging my body with a fit that exuded confidence. My hands were covered in dark gloves, completely concealing the metallic texture of my Cybertronian hand. It was fun, it made me feel like a slick mobster straight out of a movie.
Beside me, Airachnid was a vision that stole every glance. Her purple dress, with a neckline that defied gravity, seemed tailored to accentuate every curve of her human form. Her gothic makeup stayed true to her signature style, but her black hair, streaked with purple, was pulled into an elegant bun, softening her predatory aura and lending her an almost sophisticated air. Still, her purple eyes gleamed with that ever-present spark of danger.
Across from us, seated with a posture that blended grace and authority, was Windblade. Her long, flowing red dress hugged her curves with subtlety, but there was no denying her beauty. Her blue eyes were strikingly captivating. In her hand, she held a fan of cards, and beside her, a growing stack of casino chips piled up with each round.
"I must say, you're handling that human form a lot better than Airachnid," I commented, a faint smile playing on my lips as I watched Windblade handle the cards like she'd been doing it for years, despite it being her first time.
"You don't need to keep comparing her to me, you idiot," Airachnid snapped, shooting me a venomous glare. Her fingers tapped the table with obvious irritation as she tried, and failed, to outplay the Autobot.
I'd already given up on playing. Not for lack of skill, counting cards and spotting patterns in the deck was something I could do almost without thinking. The reason was simpler: going up against someone like Windblade was pointless.
I'd confirmed what I suspected: she could see the future, or at least a close approximation of what was coming, though it was vulnerable to shifts. Against that, none of my strategies could change the outcome.
"She's cheating somehow," Airachnid whispered, leaning toward me and, without realizing, flashing her cards.
"Every compliment from you is an honor," Windblade said, her voice smooth but laced with a teasing edge that drew my attention back to her. She picked up the glass of whiskey at her side, hesitating before taking a sip. Her eyes widened, surprised by the flavor dancing on her tongue.
"So, Primus sent you to protect me," I said, leaning forward slightly, elbows resting on the table. "Tell me, how's that hardheaded guy doing?"
Windblade set the glass back down, the amber liquid catching the casino's lights. Her gaze turned serious.
"The situation is delicate," she replied, her eyes locked on mine. "As you know, Cybertron lies in ruins."
I nodded, memories of old conversations with Airachnid flickering in my mind. She'd shared fragments of the story, pieces of a conflict that had ravaged our homeworld.
"A few months ago, the Autobots faced Megatron to stop his plan to destroy and conquer this planet," Windblade continued. Airachnid, meanwhile, seemed oblivious to the gravity of the moment, rolling her eyes with disdain.
"And why should that matter?" she interrupted, her voice dripping with irritation as she tossed a chip onto the table with more force than necessary.
"It matters so Lux understands the danger he's in," Windblade retorted, struggling to maintain her composure, though her eyes betrayed a spark of impatience.
I raised a hand, cutting through the tension between them.
"If you two start bickering, I swear I'll lock you both in those human forms long enough to learn some manners," I warned, my tone firm but tinged with exhaustion. Dealing with these two was like mediating a showdown between two active volcanoes.
"She started it!" they said in unison, their voices low but far from subtle, like teenagers vying for the last word.
"Alright, Windblade, please, go on," I said, coughing exaggeratedly to redirect attention to the matter at hand.
Windblade resumed, her voice steady but carrying the weight of someone who understood the gravity of her words. "As I was saying, the Autobots were vigilant to thwart Megatron's plans. He assembled an army, supposedly recruited from Cybertron, for a massive-scale invasion."
Airachnid leaned toward me, her lips close to my ear, her voice a whisper laced with suspicion. "She's lying."
Windblade, who clearly overheard, slammed her glass on the table hard enough to make the amber liquid splash.
"Can't you keep your mouth shut?" she snapped, her blue eyes flashing with irritation. "Where am I lying?"
I raised an eyebrow, surprised by the heat of the exchange. Windblade, with her supposed ability to glimpse the future, should've been prepared for Airachnid's provocations.
But what if Airachnid's unpredictability was too much even for a seer? For a moment, I thought of old Alpha Trion, whose foresight seemed to fail him when it mattered most. If Airachnid could outmaneuver even predictions, it was no wonder entire wars slipped out of control.
Before I could lose myself further in thought, Airachnid's voice cut through the air, now serious, stripped of her usual mocking tone.
"There's no secret Decepticon army," she said, crossing her arms with a conviction that seemed to challenge Windblade. "Especially not a super massive one, as you put it. Don't you think an army like that would've stopped the Autobots' escape from Cybertron?"
Windblade sighed, picking up her glass again. This time, she took a more generous sip, her cheeks gaining a faint flush as if the alcohol's bite caught her off guard.
"You're right on that point," she admitted, her voice tinged with frustration. "But you interrupt me every sentence!" She paused, composing herself. "The massive army I mentioned isn't made of living soldiers. It's an army of the undead."
The weight of her revelation hit like a shockwave. My eyes widened, a chill running down my spine, making me clench my fists tightly.
"Dark Energon," I murmured, the name slipping from my lips like a curse.
Windblade nodded. "Cybertron's surface was devastated by a massive fragment of Dark Energon, unleashed by Megatron. He resurrected every corpse from the war."
"That means we're talking billions, or far more…" Airachnid said, her voice reduced to a whisper, a rarity for her. "Lux…"
"I know," I replied, meeting her gaze. Her expression was one I rarely saw: not anger or sarcasm, but something akin to fear or an acknowledgment of the gravity of what we faced. "Cybertron can't be restored with my powers alone."
Megatron… That name grated on me more than the name of the Chaos God himself. He was no longer just a Cybertronian but an abomination, his spark corrupted by Unicron's power. And now, tainting Cybertron with the malevolent essence of Dark Energon? My anger surged, a heat pulsing through my veins.
I felt Airachnid's hand touch mine under the table, catching me off guard. I glanced at her, but her face was turned away, hiding any emotion. The gesture, though, was enough to pull me from my thoughts and anchor me back to reality.
I turned my attention back to Windblade, who was waiting for my response.
"For a long time, I've chosen a stance of non-intervention in wars," I began, my voice low, heavy with the weight of old choices. "Not even against the Quintessons did I interfere, except when Cybertron was on the brink of catastrophic collapse, when they destroyed the core of the star we originally orbited." Memories of that day flooded back as if I were reliving the era. "But with Unicron's powers constantly meddling on this planet, I can't keep my neutrality any longer."
Airachnid turned to me, her eyes wide. "Wait… does that mean…"
"I have to find Optimus Prime," I declared firmly, as Windblade's lips curved into a smile, as if she'd been waiting for this exact decision. "We need to focus our efforts on reversing, in the long term, the damage caused by Dark Energon on Cybertron."
"You're not planning to abandon Cybertron?" she asked, surprise evident in her voice. Her blue eyes searched mine, as if trying to gauge the depth of my resolve.
I sighed, lifting my gaze to the ceiling, where the lights flickered in a hypnotic rhythm.
"Even if logic tells me to stay away from Cybertron, I can't just abandon Primus." My voice came out heavier than I intended.
"Don't worry, old friend," I thought, almost like a silent promise. "I'll find a way to bring you back."
My gaze shifted to Airachnid, who remained silent, arms crossed and face turned away. She didn't seem interested in my decision, and I knew exactly why.
Beneath all her sarcasm, selfishness, and sadism, there was something more human than she'd care to admit. Airachnid could be a storm of chaos, addicted to food, moody, and with an almost childlike glee in causing trouble, but she also had moments of awkward sweetness that slipped through when her guard was down.
Come to think of it, her attitude mirrored human unpredictability so much that I almost felt guilty for judging her so harshly. Without thinking too hard, I reached out and ruffled her hair. She turned her face, her cheeks flushing slightly, and shot me a look that mixed confusion and irritation.
"Idiot! You'll mess up my hair!" she exclaimed, swatting my hand, but her tone lacked its usual venom.
I ignored her complaint and turned back to Windblade.
"As I said, I'll join the Autobots, but on one condition: Airachnid comes with me."
"What?" Airachnid spun toward me, her eyes wide, sparkling with the same curiosity she got when discovering a new dish. It was almost comical, as if being included was as unexpected as an exotic dessert.
Windblade, however, didn't share the enthusiasm. "No!" she snapped, her voice sharp. "She's killed countless Cybertronians. She's a murderer."
"It was an accident," Airachnid said, trotting out the same flimsy excuse she always used when she got me into trouble.
"An accident?" Windblade's brow furrowed, irritation dripping from her voice. "How do you kill hundreds of Autobots by accident?"
"Coincidence?" Airachnid murmured, her tone attempting innocence but failing miserably.
I rolled my eyes, unable to suppress a sigh. It was time to step in before the argument spiraled into another fight.
"Listen, technically… she didn't kill any Autobots," I said, raising a finger as if explaining a simple equation. Both of them stared at me, Airachnid with a look of disbelief so rare I almost wanted to snap a picture.
"The sparks of all the dead Cybertronians are within me," I continued. "Meaning they're alive. That negates the deaths she caused."
Airachnid tilted her head, clearly intrigued.
"Even the deaths of organic beings and those from other planets?" she asked, as if testing the limits of my logic.
"I'm trying to save you from your own mistakes, so shut up." I muttered, irritation slipping out before I could rein it in.
Windblade crossed her arms, unconvinced.
"You, as the Allspark, shouldn't condone her actions."
"And I don't support what she did," I shot back, shrugging. "But we can say half her messes are fixable. The other half… well, we'll figure out a fair punishment later."
"Besides," Airachnid interjected, straightening with an almost comical pride, "I'm his guardian! I've protected Lux countless times."
My mind was flooded with a montage of memories: Airachnid throwing me into dangerous situations, from poorly planned ambushes to explosions she herself had caused. Windblade and I exchanged a glance, and it was clear she also knew about the countless times Airachnid's "protection" had been anything but effective.
"What?" Airachnid said, catching our skepticism. "Don't be a buzzkill, Lux."
I took a deep breath, trying to hold onto my patience. "Look, if Airachnid does something stupid, I'll make sure to keep her in line," I promised, looking at Windblade. "She's coming with me. End of story."
Windblade let out a deep sigh, the sound heavy with resignation. Her blue eyes, glowing with an almost supernatural intensity, fixed on Airachnid for a moment before returning to me.
"I can't believe I have to work with a Decepticon," she said, bringing a hand to her face in a gesture of exasperation, as if trying to slap reality away.
I let out a light laugh, the sound escaping before I could stop it.
"You'll get used to it," I said, my tone a mix of sarcasm and experience. Before I could brace myself, I felt a punch to my shoulder, courtesy of Airachnid. The impact was more playful than painful, but firm enough to make me turn to her with a raised eyebrow.
"Gentle as ever," I thought, as she shot me a look that was half provocation, half warning.