Infiltrator.
Nathan processed the word with a flicker of irony. Somehow, despite being a direct creation of Starscream, he had been successfully re-indexed as a deep-cover asset for Soundwave. He was no longer sure whose side he was on, or if "sides" even mattered in a world of shifting mechanical allegiances.
"Lord Soundwave," Nathan pulsed, maintaining a respectful vocalizer frequency. "You require me to remain outside the Nevada stronghold for three solar cycles?"
"Affirmative," Soundwave droned. "Your sudden evolution to a High-Tier state would trigger a high-probability security audit by the Air Commander. In three days, I will broadcast a formal notification. I will frame your upgrade as a battlefield merit—a reward for providing critical data on the location of NBE-1."
A perfect cover, Nathan calculated. He wouldn't have to fabricate a lie; the Spymaster was providing the narrative for him.
"I am honored by your tactical foresight, Lord Soundwave," Nathan replied, his optics dimming in a gesture of fealty.
Soundwave's visor pulsed. He wasn't just being generous; he was being practical. With Brawl and Bonecrusher diverted to a deep-cover reserve site, his active field strength was limited to Barricade and Blackout. Having a High-Tier Seeker—one already integrated into Starscream's vanguard—was a force-multiplier he couldn't ignore.
"Utilize the next seventy-two hours for structural hardening," Soundwave commanded. "Once your chassis has stabilized, report to Scalpel. I have authorized him to install a High-Tier heavy ordnance module as a secondary incentive."
"Understood. My gratitude is absolute."
Nathan watched as the Spymaster finalized his local scans. He realized that the relationship between Scalpel and Soundwave was deeper than mere professional courtesy. In the cinematic records, Scalpel was the one who performed the spark-surgery to resurrect Megatron, and he had emerged from the chest of Ravage—a member of Soundwave's Mini-Con Legion. They were a single, cohesive intelligence cell.
"One final directive," Soundwave added, his voice dropping into a menacing bass. "Our connection remains encrypted. You will not disclose our alignment to Barricade or Blackout. To the rest of the Vanguard, you are Starscream's loyal servant. Is the protocol clear?"
"Protocol synchronized, Lord Soundwave."
A mole within a mole, Nathan thought as the Spymaster launched into the atmosphere. It's the only way to survive the Decepticon High Command.
The Atlantic Coast. 02:00.
Nathan found a secondary atoll, even more isolated than the Space Bridge site. He landed on the central peak, his Silver Fox interceptor frame hissing as the heat-shielding cooled.
He needed a secure location for the transmutation. Evolution was not a quiet process; it involved a total rewriting of his internal molecular structure. He located a natural sea cave carved into the volcanic rock, its entrance wide enough to accommodate his nine-meter frame.
He entered the cave and used a series of massive boulders to seal the entrance. He wasn't worried about predators, but he was wary of orbital surveillance. A sudden surge of Cybertronian radiation on an uninhabited island would draw every human satellite and Autobot sensor within range.
Safe in the darkness, Nathan reached into his sub-space storage and retrieved the cubic container. The liquid Raw Energon within glowed like a trapped star, casting flickering red shadows against the damp cave walls.
The fire of the Well, Nathan mused.
In the ancient eras, this liquid was the lifeblood of Cybertron. It possessed the unique property of Atomic Transmutation. Nathan's current body was a "cold-forged" construct—built from refined terrestrial alloys and programmed with a synthetic mind. It was strong, but it lacked the self-repairing "memory metal" properties of a true Cybertronian.
He opened his chest plates, exposing the glowing Synthetic Core. It pulsed with a steady, pale blue light, unaware that its expiration was seconds away.
CRACK.
Nathan shattered the container against his central intake. The fiery red liquid didn't spill; it was pulled into his chest by a sudden, violent magnetic attraction.
There were no blinding lights or cinematic fanfares. Instead, there was a deep, systemic thrum.
Nathan's optics flared white. He felt a wave of intense heat wash through his servos, followed by the sensation of his very atoms being torn apart and reassembled. The terrestrial titanium and steel of his chassis were being overwritten. The Raw Energon was "blessing" the metal, turning dead alloy into living, sentient Cybertronian steel.
His Energy Core began to oscillate, the synthetic blue light being consumed by a roaring, golden-red furnace. The "soul" of the machine was expanding, outgrowing its factory limitations.
[ SYSTEM ALERT: ATOMIC RESTRUCTURING IN PROGRESS ]
[ CONVERTING SYNTHETIC CORE TO PRIMAL SPARK... ]
[ EVOLUTIONARY HARDENING: 45%... 78%... ]
Thirty minutes later, the cave fell silent.
Nathan opened his optics. The dim red glow had been replaced by a piercing, high-intensity crimson. He flexed his fingers, hearing the smooth, silent music of high-grade hydraulics. He felt... heavy. Not with weight, but with mass. His armor was no longer just a shell; it was an extension of his will, capable of near-instantaneous repair and thermal regulation.
He looked at his palm. The metal had a subtle, iridescent sheen—the hallmark of a High-Tier Veteran.
"So this is a Spark," Nathan whispered, his voice now a deep, harmonic rumble that made the cave floor vibrate.
He felt the energy within him—a roaring furnace of potential. He no longer needed to top off his reserves at the base every few days. The Spark was a self-sustaining engine of creation. He felt like he could fly for a thousand years without landing.
Nathan stood up, his head nearly brushing the cave ceiling. He was no longer a drone. He was no longer a shadow.
I am ready, he thought, his new sensors reaching out into the dark. Let the three days pass. I want to see the look on Starscream's face.