Transformers The Hatchling

Dark energon

No POV

The early morning light filtered dimly through the base's high windows, casting long shadows across the walls. Optimus had tried to reach Stormchaser the night before, but it was no use. She wouldn't let anyone near her. Restless and clearly on edge, she had growled at any attempt to approach, lashing out with more aggression than anyone had ever seen from her. It wasn't like her. Normally, Storm was headstrong, confident, and a little too playful at times—but last night? She was a wild, caged animal, every movement sharp and erratic. No one dared get close to her nest of scrap metal, blankets, and other assorted debris, which had been scattered all over the room, a far cry from her usual careful arrangement.

This morning, however, Optimus couldn't ignore the situation any longer. He needed to know what was going on, and why his usually carefree companion was so tense, so... feral. Steeling himself, he entered the berth-room. The sight that greeted him was unsettling. The room, usually a place of rest, was now a chaotic mess. Metal bits, rags, and discarded parts were strewn across the floor, a stark contrast to Storm's usual meticulous nature.

Storm was facing the door, her muscles coiled like a spring. Her optics glowed with an intensity that set Optimus on edge. She was posed for an attack, her stance wide, tail flicking in anticipation. This was not the Storm he knew. Her optics tracked him, unblinking, and her body tensed even further as he stepped closer.

"Easy, girl," Optimus said softly, his voice low, calm, trying to ease her. "Your behavior is beginning to worry us. You've destroyed your nest. Please, I know you understand us. What has you so upset? Can you try to explain what has caused this?"

Storm's response was a series of loud clicks and low growls, her vocalizations distressed and jagged. She wasn't responding to his words, but to the overwhelming anxiety gripping her. Her movements were jerky, and she took a step backward, before her optics suddenly locked onto something past him, her body freezing in place. Optimus could feel the tension in the air, the sense that something was about to happen.

Then, without warning, Storm lunged. Her massive frame shot forward with terrifying speed, and Optimus barely managed to sidestep in time to avoid being flattened by the full force of her charge. He felt a rush of air as she hurtled past him. But he wasn't fast enough to completely avoid her; her tail snapped around with a vicious crack, striking him across the chestplate with a painful thud.

"Storm!" Optimus growled, but there was no time to focus on the pain in his own frame. Storm was already racing down the hall, her heavy footsteps echoing through the corridors.

The sound of a scuffle reached his audios just before he caught up. Ratchet's voice was sharp, frustrated.

"I needed that!" the medic shouted, his voice carrying a mix of anger and exasperation.

Storm came barreling around the corner and immediately planted herself between Ratchet and an animated piece of tech, which had begun moving on its own. With a snarl, Storm shot a blast of fire at it, sending the tech flying back with a screech. The heat from her flames was so intense that it momentarily scorched the air, the scent of burning metal lingering for a moment before it dissipated.

Ratchet blinked in surprise as Storm stood her ground, teeth bared and muscles tensed, hissing at the tech, clearly intent on protecting the medic. Optimus moved quickly to stand by her side, watching as the tech shifted and expanded, its gears and parts folding and extending. It quickly grew in size, its jagged, sharp blades extending toward Storm's chestplate.

The battle was on.

Storm launched herself into the fray. With a burst of power, she fired a blast of fire at the advancing tech, but it missed, sizzling past its target and striking the floor. The tech was undeterred. It lunged at her, sharp blades aimed for her chest, and it succeeded in slicing through the techno-organic film lining her chestplate. Sparks flew as the blue energon began to spill out, staining the concrete floor beneath her.

Storm's claws came out in an instant, and with a deadly swipe, she grabbed the tech by its parts and tore it off her chest, using her teeth to pry it away. She threw it aside with a snarl, but the tech was far from finished. It scrambled toward her, reforming itself in an attempt to continue the fight.

That was enough for Storm.

With a low growl, Storm inhaled deeply and let loose a steady stream of fire, her flamethrower-like blast roaring to life. It engulfed the tech in flames, and it began to melt under the intense heat. The tech screeched as its internal systems fried, its metal parts warping and liquefying. The last remnants of it dissolved into a pool of molten metal.

"And stay dead," Ratchet grunted from behind her, though there was a touch of admiration in his tone.

Optimus approached Storm, who was crouched over the melted remains of the tech, her head tilting as she sniffed the puddle of liquid metal, ensuring that it had been destroyed beyond recovery.

Ratchet, ever the medic, moved in to scan Storm for injuries, noting the deep gashes across her chest. The energon trickled sluggishly from the wounds, and he immediately began to prod at the scratches, his sharp fingers testing the severity of the damage.

Storm reacted with a vicious snarl, her head jerking back, teeth bared, and she lunged a step closer to Ratchet. Optimus stepped in, his hand gently but firmly resting on her back, keeping her from going any further.

"Easy, Storm," Optimus soothed, his voice calm and measured. "Let him check you over."

Ratchet stepped back reluctantly, giving the young Predacon room to lick her wounds, the jagged marks on her chest slowly healing as energon began to clot. With a soft growl, Storm retreated, her movements stiff, and she made her way back to her berth-room, still clearly unsettled.

Optimus turned to Ratchet, his optics narrowed in concern. "Her behavior is worrying me," he said quietly. "Could it be that Storm is having a reaction to whatever this was?" He gestured to the cooling heap of metal that had once been an enemy tech.

Ratchet rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It could be," he muttered, inspecting the wreckage. "The tech wasn't natural, that much is certain. But this isn't just a simple malfunction. This thing had dark energon signatures all over it." Ratchet paused, his optics hardening. "The same substance that brought Cliffjumper back from the dead."

Optimus frowned deeply, feeling a knot tighten in his chest. "Dark energon... on Earth? What is it doing here?"

Ratchet let out a frustrated sigh, glancing around at the damage. "It doesn't make sense. If Megatron is involved, it's no surprise. Dark energon is a dangerous tool, one that he could use to raise an army of the undead."

Optimus looked around the room at the broken equipment and wreckage. "But how would Megatron get his hands on that much dark energon? And why would he bring it here, of all places?"

Ratchet looked as if he were about to respond when the sound of footsteps echoed through the hall. The rest of the team had returned, and the human children appeared to be in good spirits, their energy lifted by their time spent with the Autobots.

Miko bounced ahead, her usual wide grin plastered across her face. "This place is awesome!" she exclaimed, clearly unfazed by the chaos she had just walked into.

Jack, Raf, and Bulkhead followed, all of them looking more relaxed than they had in days.

Optimus glanced toward the children, then back at Ratchet. "We have more pressing matters to deal with, but for now, we will keep an eye on the situation. Storm's behavior is unusual, and the dark energon might be a factor."

Ratchet nodded, keeping his tone serious. "Agreed. But for now, let's focus on keeping the kids safe. We'll investigate this further after we stabilize the situation."

As the team gathered, Optimus felt a sense of urgency settle over him. Megatron was moving—things were more dangerous than they had realized, and Stormchaser's erratic behavior was just the tip of the iceberg. Whatever dark energon was planning, they had to be ready.

.........

I know it's short I'll update again either tonight or tomorrow at the latest. And I'm sorry for your long wait and any bad spelling/grammar.