While Sam was busy comparing the symbols, Simmons walked over to another bookshelf. He stepped onto a stool and retrieved a dusty photo album from the very top shelf.
"Over seventy-five years of research, and Sector 7 still managed to produce quite a few results."
"These findings point to one indisputable fact: those alien robots visited our planet a very long time ago."
"I know what you're thinking," Simmons said, glancing back at the three of them. "You want to see the evidence, right?"
"Don't be in such a hurry..."
Simmons stepped away from the shelf and gestured for everyone to gather around the desk. He opened the album and said, "Archaeologists have discovered the same markings at famous historical sites and monuments all over the world."
He pulled out several photographs. "Ancient Egypt, Ancient Achaea, Ancient India..."
On every aged photograph, aside from the different people in the frame, the background always featured a massive structure. More importantly, each of those structures was engraved with specific, strange characters.
"Different places, but the exact same pattern."
Simmons pointed at the photos, his gaze sweeping over Sam, Mikaela, and Leo. "Tell me, everyone."
"Who else but them would leave behind the same incomprehensible patterns across the globe?"
"And I believe some of them never actually left our planet at all!"
"Never left? What does that mean?" Leo asked, confused.
"Take a look at these." Simmons pulled a few more photos from the album.
These pictures showed vintage cars and antique airplanes, each marked with a specific ID number—clearly creations from decades ago.
"For a long time, I led teams to track anomalies worldwide. I detected radioactive material in countless locations..." Simmons's expression suddenly turned resentful. "I even went so far as to kneel and beg Sector 7 to conduct a thorough investigation."
"But they told me the readings were too low to be a valid reference. They said I was just overworked and told me to go see a psychiatrist!"
Simmons was utterly disillusioned with Sector 7 and certain individuals, which was why he had never given up on chasing these secrets. He wanted to prove that he was right!
"I know how you feel," Sam said, nodding in understanding. It was just like the lecture he had given in his classroom—no one understood him then, either.
After a moment of silence, Sam spoke up. "Even if these characters have been found in many places, we still don't know what they actually mean."
"That's true," Simmons muttered, shuffling the photos with regret. "If only we could ask one of them in person."
"Wait!" Mikaela suddenly exclaimed. "What did you just say?"
"What?"
"I asked, what was that last sentence you just said?"
"I said..." Simmons looked up and down at the girl, wondering which nerve he had just touched. "If only we could ask one of them in person."
"Perfect! That's it!"
Mikaela clapped her hands in excitement. "I just so happen to have a Decepticon prisoner."
"Good Lord, do you have any idea what you're saying?" Simmons's jaw dropped in shock. "That's a vicious Decepticon, not some toy car from the side of the road."
"You're right. He is a toy car!"
Without explaining further, Mikaela ran toward the basement entrance—the iron ladder. Sam and Leo quickly remembered and scrambled after her.
The group hurried out of the freezer and arrived at the yellow Camaro parked in front of the restaurant.
"Good heavens!"
The moment he saw the Camaro, Simmons let out a cry of surprise. He recognized this familiar car instantly.
"You guys are actually hanging out with these things!"
VROOM—
The Camaro's engine suddenly roared, and the exhaust pipe let out a thick cloud of smoke directly at Simmons. His white chef's pants instantly changed color. Clearly, Bumblebee recognized Simmons—his former "enemy"—immediately.
"Hey! Bee, settle down!" Sam said, pulling his hood lower and giving the car a cautious warning.
After pulling an iron box from the trunk, the four of them hurried back into the freezer. As they passed through the kitchen, Simmons's mother, who was busy butchering a trout, couldn't help but bark:
"Simmons, what kind of idiocy are you up to now?"
Simmons, bringing up the rear, pointed at the cutting board without looking back. "Just finish your fish!"
Thud, thud, thud—
The moment they returned to the secret basement and Mikaela placed the iron box on the desk, it began to shake violently. Shouts echoed from inside:
"Let me out! Let me out right now!"
"You have a Decepticon locked in there?" Simmons asked, his face grave as he picked up a taser.
"Yes." Mikaela held down the box as it threatened to bounce off the desk. She looked at the others. "I'm opening it. Are you ready?"
"Open it, Mikaela," Sam said, pulling Leo back a few steps.
Clang—
The moment the box opened, a miniature Decepticon leaped out.
"Tremble! Cower in fear!"
Wheelie swept his single remaining mechanical eye over the four people present before turning to provoke Leo. "You want to fight? You curly-haired punk, I'll find a bunch of Decepticons to kick your—"
Bzzzt—
Before Wheelie could finish his threat, his thirty-centimeter body was engulfed in blue-and-white electrical arcs.
Thump—
Wheelie collapsed onto the desk, smoke rising from his head.
"Whew." Simmons, standing behind Wheelie, tucked the taser away and gave it a cool, western-style blow. "I just wanted him to tone down the attitude."
"Tie him up!"
Sam took action, finding a length of iron chain. Ignoring the occasional spark still flickering on Wheelie's chassis, he wrapped the chain around him again and again, tethering him tightly.
"This is just like walking a dog..." Simmons took the chain and gave it a tug. He looked at Mikaela. "Can you communicate with him?"
"I don't know, but I'll try."
As Wheelie wobbled back to his feet, Mikaela cupped her chin and put on a look of extreme guilt. She spoke to Wheelie in a soft, gentle voice:
"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your eye earlier. I truly apologize."
"But if you can't be a good boy, I might have to break the other one. Do you understand?"
The most tender tone delivered the most brutal threat. Beside her, Sam felt an involuntary shiver run down his spine. He looked up at the iron hatch above; it was sealed tight, so there was no way the cold air from the freezer was leaking in.
"Little guy, if you can just tell me what these symbols mean, I'll stop hurting you, okay?"
Mikaela's "sincerity" seemed to strike a chord with Wheelie. He glanced at the piece of white paper in Mikaela's hand and knelt on the desk.
"Alright, beautiful lady. I agree."
Mikaela's face bloomed into a radiant smile. She pointed at the black symbols. "What do they mean?"
"Hmm... I know this..." Wheelie tapped his remaining eye. His wheels brought him closer to Mikaela. "This looks like... Ancient Cybertronian. A language that belongs exclusively to the Seekers..."
"Oh, I knew it," Sam muttered, shaking his head at the familiar-sounding jargon.
"Ancient Cybertronian?" Simmons, however, was focused on a different point. "Is your language called Cybertronian? Does that mean the planet you live on is called Cybertron?"
"You're right, old man."
"Old man?" Simmons pointed to himself, incredulous. "Do I look that old?"
"Well..." Leo looked at the few grey hairs on Simmons's head and nodded solemnly. "Maybe... a little."
"I can't read these symbols, but these guys..." Wheelie's attention was suddenly drawn to the photographs on the desk. "Where did you take these pictures?"
"You mean them?" Sam picked up the photos of the vintage vehicles to be sure.
"Yes, exactly."
"Pal," Wheelie said, pointing at the photos. "If I remember correctly, they are Seekers. Very senior explorers."
"On the orders of The Fallen, they started looking for something on this planet tens of thousands of years ago. I don't know what it is, and no one told me."
"You know, I'm just a nobody. As you can see, I'm just a little guy..."
The Cybertronians currently remaining on Earth included the few survivors who had hid after the Great War millions of years ago, as well as those who had visited and simply never left. There were also the subordinates The Fallen had sent to Earth to find the Matrix of Leadership after he awoke tens of thousands of years ago.
Some found nothing; others never returned. But all of these warriors shared a title: Seekers.
"And? What does that have to do with the symbols?" Simmons interrupted, brandishing the taser again.
"Wait...!" Wheelie squeaked, terrified into stopping his rambling. "I mean... they should be able to translate these symbols."
"I know their general locations," Wheelie said, sliding his chassis toward a wall.
Several lasers projected from his frame onto a map hanging in the basement. Several small green dots lit up on the map.
"You're finally useful for something," Simmons said, putting away the taser. He walked to the map, checking each location the green dots indicated. He turned back and said:
"The nearest one is in D.C. I think it's time to move."
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