Transformers Prime: Evolution

8. Hints of Chaos

The ground bridge whirred to life with a flash of green, and one by one, the Autobots stepped through into the familiar sanctuary of their base. Each of them bore the scars of the recent battle, the metallic gleam of their armor dulled by soot, dents, and energon burns.

Bulkhead staggered slightly as he emerged, holding his side where a blast had struck him hard. "Fraggin' 'Cons hit harder every time," he grumbled, his voice a low growl of pain masked by his usual bravado. He glanced over at Arcee, who, though silent, limped slightly, her shoulder still sparking from an earlier impact.

"Tell me about it," Smokescreen chimed in, shaking off dust as he followed them through the bridge. "That last Decepticon—ShadowDread or whatever his name is—almost took my head off. But hey, I'm still standing!" His tone was upbeat, but there was a slight tremor of unease in his voice, the bravado not enough to hide the gravity of the encounter.

Ratchet was waiting for them, his optics narrowing as he quickly scanned over the returning team. "Primus, you look like you've been through a scrapheap," he muttered, already grabbing his tools and directing them toward the med bay. "Bulkhead, you first. Arcee, sit down before you fall apart on the floor."

Arcee shot him a glare but complied, perching on a nearby crate, still silent. The fight had been brutal, and though she had survived worse, this one lingered with her. ShadowDread. The name echoed in her processor. He was different—more ruthless, more precise. Not like the typical Decepticon brute. There was something... wrong about him. Something darker.

Bumblebee gave a reassuring beep, nudging her with his shoulder. "Bee, I'm fine," she muttered, though her tone softened at his concern.

Optimus Prime entered last, his massive frame barely clearing the portal of the ground bridge. His movements were slower than usual, his posture rigid with an unseen weight. He carried the Star Saber in his hand, its edge still glowing faintly with the power that had helped them push back the Decepticons. The others looked to him for guidance, but Optimus remained silent, his optics distant as if seeing something none of them could.

"Optimus?" Ratchet asked, pausing in his repairs. "What's wrong?"

But Prime didn't respond right away. His gaze was unfocused, staring at something far beyond the walls of their base—his mind elsewhere.

In the depths of Optimus' mind, a voice reverberated through the space, ancient and familiar.

"Optimus..."

Alpha Trion's voice carried the weight of millennia, and with it, a sense of foreboding. Optimus found himself standing in a vast, starry void, the presence of his mentor hovering before him like a ghostly image from the past.

"Alpha Trion..." Optimus' voice was calm, but beneath it was a tide of concern. "I have seen the power of the Star Saber, but the future remains clouded. You speak of a greater threat. Is it Unicron?"

There was a long silence before Alpha Trion responded, his tone heavier than before.

"Yes, Optimus. Unicron's darkness stirs once more, but not in the way you expect. Though you have banished his essence from the core of Earth, he remains... dormant, searching for a new vessel."

Optimus frowned, his brow furrowing. "Megatron?"

Alpha Trion's image flickered as he shook his head. "No, Optimus. Megatron is not the one who carries Unicron's darkness. His lust for power is his own burden. There is another. A Decepticon, corrupted from within, slowly transforming under the malevolent influence of the Chaos Bringer. The herald of Unicron, the one who will bring about his resurgence."