"The first method," Scalpel began, his voice rasping through the sterile air of the lab, "is the most obvious. Direct exposure to the AllSpark. The artifact's raw cosmic radiation can catalyze a Synthetic Fusion Core, forcing it to undergo a metamorphic jump into a true Spark."
Nathan nodded slowly. That confirms it. Hoover Dam remains the primary objective.
"And the second method?"
"Ze-ze-ze~" Scalpel's yellow optics flickered with a disturbing glee. "The second involves surgery. You find a functional, intact Spark and you... transplant it. You carve out the old core and fuse a donor Spark into your internal bus."
Transplant? Nathan felt a cold shudder in his gears. He quickly ran the math. Finding a "donor" Spark meant killing a natural-born Cybertronian—either an Autobot or a veteran Decepticon. As a Mid-tier unit, Nathan was nowhere near strong enough to hunt the veterans of the Seven Thousand Year War. Even the "sleeping" titans like Jetfire, hidden in an aerospace museum, were far beyond his current pay grade. Stasis didn't mean death; it just meant the monster was resting.
The AllSpark is the only logical path, Nathan decided. The transplant method was a desperate man's game, though he filed the information away for a future contingency.
Over the next seventy-two hours, Nathan transitioned from a test subject to a student of Cybertronian biology. He realized that Scalpel, despite his erratic personality, was a walking encyclopedia of mechanical evolution. Nathan spent his downtime between diagnostics asking pointed questions, playing the role of a curious "newborn" to drain the medic of every scrap of technical data.
Through these sessions, Nathan pieced together a definitive map of his own existence. A Cybertronian lifeform consisted of two non-negotiable pillars:
The Energy Unit: (The Spark or, in his case, the Synthetic Fusion Core). This was the engine and the soul—the source of life.The Cerebral Module: This was the seat of identity. It housed the logic chips, memory crystals, the quantum neural net, and the sensory arrays.
If he were to compare himself to the primitive computers of Earth, the Cerebral Module was the CPU and the hard drive combined. It handled logic, stored memories, and facilitated decision-making. In human terms, it was the brain—the origin of Consciousness.
This explained why Leaders like Megatron could survive "death." As long as the Cerebral Module remained intact, the personality could be uploaded into a new chassis. To kill a Cybertronian permanently, you had to extinguish the Spark or pulverize the head.
This is why Megatron keeps coming back, Nathan realized. The body is just a suit of armor; the mind is the pilot.
Cybertronians identified each other not by sight, but through Frequency Signatures. Every Spark emitted a unique, uncopiable energy wavelength—a digital DNA. Additionally, their comm-arrays broadcasted sub-audible carrier signals for identification. Without these, the Decepticons would have descended into a civil war of mistaken identity every time someone got a fresh coat of paint.
Nathan also learned the grim limitations of his "fake" heart. Unlike a natural Spark, which could sustain a Cybertronian's basic life functions for millions of years in stasis, the Synthetic Fusion Core was finite. It was "leaky," requiring frequent recharges. More importantly, it was static. It could not evolve on its own. Unless Nathan reached the AllSpark, he would be a Mid-tier soldier until the day he was scrapped.
Born a grunt, die a grunt, Nathan thought. Not a chance.
At the end of the third day, Scalpel performed the promised surgery. Using the alloys he'd scavenged from T-18 and local terrestrial ores, he reinforced Nathan's frame.
"There you go, T-22. Your kinetic resistance is now at the ceiling for a Mid-tier unit. Adapt to the weight; I'm going to find a weapon module that won't embarrass me."
Scalpel hopped off the slab and signaled the Tentacle-Bot. Once the medic vanished into the storage vaults, Nathan sat up and blinked. A customized tactical overlay—a HUD he had spent hours calibrating—flickered into his vision.
[ DESIGNATION: T-22 ]
[ CHASSIS INTEGRITY: REINFORCED TITANIUM-ALLOY PLATING ]
[ WEAPONRY: SHOULDER-MOUNTED GRENADE DISPATCHER (RIGHT), 12.6MM TRI-BARREL HEAVY REPEATER (CHEST) ]
[ POWER SOURCE: SYNTHETIC FUSION CORE (86%) ]
[ UNIT CLASSIFICATION: MID-TIER WARRIOR ]
He felt the increased density in his chest and limbs. His previous armor had been a simple manganese-alloy—tough, but terrestrial. The new titanium-composite was a significant upgrade. His power levels remained high, thanks to the second Energon cube he'd shared with Scalpel (though he'd been much more "polite" with the intake this time).
"Tentacle-Bot, bring the modules."
Scalpel returned, his assistant dragging a small pallet holding three distinct metallic components. Each was no larger than the medic himself, but Nathan knew better than to judge by size.
"T-22, I have three compatible weapon modules for your frame. Choose one."
Nathan looked down. Two were shaped like compact artillery pieces; the third resembled a heavy, oversized rifle. Despite their small footprint, he knew they utilized Cybertronian Space-Compression.
It was one of the three "God-tier" technologies of their race:
Space-Compression: Making the massive compact.Space-Bridge Technology: Instantaneous interstellar travel.Mass-Shifting: The core of transformation.
His T-Cog would take one of these modules and integrate it into his hardware, expanding it to full size only when deployed.
One choice, Nathan thought, his scanners lingering over the weapons. One chance to define my combat style.