"Master, the Energon is here."
Reedman scuttled back into the light, dragging a small anti-gravity cart behind him. On top sat two glowing cubes.
Reedman was too small to carry them himself—intelligence aside, physics was physics. But as a sentient being, he knew how to use tools.
Is that... Energon?
As the cart drew closer, Nathan felt a sudden, violent hunger erupt in his core. It wasn't like human hunger; it was a desperate, clawing void in his reactor. It was the feeling of a starving man seeing a banquet.
His instincts screamed: CONSUME.
He slid off the medical berth, ignoring protocol. He reached down and grabbed one of the cubes.
It was no larger than a human lunchbox, but it felt heavy, dense with potential energy.
Energon. The lifeblood of Cybertron.
Humans ate food; Cybertronians drank energy. But "drinking" was a simplification. They processed high-yield energy condensed into liquid or plasma form.
On Earth, Decepticons harvested raw resources—oil, coal, geothermal heat—and refined them into this glowing blue substance. The cube was just the containment vessel. Inside, the plasma swirled like liquid lightning.
Nathan shook the cube. The blue light cast dancing shadows on his faceplate.
It's beautiful.
He realized now why Cybertronians "bled" different colors. It was just leaking fuel. Blue meant healthy. Clear or colorless meant you were running on fumes.
Right now, Nathan was running on fumes.
"This was converted from geothermal vents. It took weeks to refine," Scalpel warned, his tone stingy. "I only have two. Don't be greedy. Just get your Core above 50%."
Scalpel looked pained just handing it over. In a post-war universe with the AllSpark lost, Energon was more precious than gold.
"Thank you... Lord Scalpel."
Nathan didn't wait. He popped the seal on the cube.
GULP. GULP. GULP.
He tipped his head back and downed the plasma.
He didn't care about rationing. He didn't care about 50%. He was starving.
If I don't drink it now, who knows when I'll get another chance? Scalpel might change his mind.
The liquid energy hit his intake systems like ice-cold water on a scorching day. It was euphoric. His sensors sharpened. His servos hummed with renewed torque. The warning icons on his HUD vanished one by one.
It was the best thing he had ever tasted.
"Stop! STOP!"
Scalpel was hopping up and down, waving his claws in a panic.
"Put it down! You gluttonous heavy-lifter!"
Nathan ignored him until the cube was empty. He lowered the translucent container; only a few drops remained at the bottom.
"By the AllSpark!" Scalpel shrieked. "You drank the whole thing?! In one breath?!"
Nathan looked down. The cube was indeed empty.
Oops.
"You moron! I said 50%! Who told you to drain it dry?!"
Scalpel looked ready to commit murder. He wasn't Starscream; he didn't have unlimited resources. These two cubes were his personal stash, hidden from the Commander. And this grunt just chugged half of his savings.
Nathan gave an apologetic shrug.
"I apologize, Lord Scalpel. It was my first fueling... I lost control."
Sorry, not sorry.
His Energy Core read 100%. He was fully charged. It was worth the scolding.
Scalpel looked at the second cube on the cart, then back at Nathan. Panic flared in his eyes.
"You! Don't even think about it!"
Nathan glanced at the second cube.
"No, no, Lord Scalpel. I am full."
"Hmph!" Scalpel turned to his minion. "Reedman! Take that cube away! Hide it! Hide it where no one can find it! Especially not him!"
"At once, Master."
Reedman glared at Nathan with his multiple red eyes, then dragged the remaining cube into the darkness.
Nathan snorted internally. Stingy bug.
But with the Energon gone, Scalpel's mood shifted. The rage evaporated, replaced by a cold, calculating curiosity.
He climbed up a nearby instrument tower until he was level with Nathan's head. His yellow optics whirred, zooming in and out.
"Little one," Scalpel said softly. "You are smart. And you are a very good actor."
Nathan froze. Actor?
Does he know I drank it on purpose?
He lowered his head. "I'm sorry, Lord Scalpel. I didn't mean to—"
"No, no, no..."
Scalpel leaped from the tower, landing directly on Nathan's shoulder. His claw tapped against Nathan's audio receptor.
"I'm not talking about the fuel."
He leaned in close, his voice a conspiratorial whisper.
"Little one. You can fool Starscream. He is blinded by his own ego. But you cannot fool me."
"I know what you are. You are different from T-19 and the others."
Nathan's spark skipped a beat. His cooling fans stalled.
He knows.
Does he know I'm a transmigrator? Or just that I have free will?
Nathan kept his faceplate neutral, but his processor was running combat simulations. Can I kill him before he alerts the base?
"Lord Scalpel," Nathan said slowly, feigning confusion. "I do not understand. Why am I different? We are all Decepticons."
"Ha ha~"
Scalpel laughed, a grating, metallic sound right in Nathan's ear.
"Don't play dumb. No newborn drone would dare look at their Master the way you looked at Starscream."
Nathan stiffened.
It was the stare. The same stare that got him slapped into a wall. Starscream had interpreted it as disrespect. Scalpel had interpreted it as intelligence.
"A programmed drone stares at nothing," Scalpel whispered. "You stared at him with judgement."
"You have a mind of your own, T-22. Don't you?"