"Technology!" Clarice took a decisive step forward, her voice cutting through the biting wind. "I need your weapons and your science. As much as you can provide."
"No problem, Madam," Skygnaw nodded, his tallic voice resonating with calculated calm. This was exactly what he expected. "But what can you—or rather, your governnt—offer in return?"
"Security!"
A sudden gust of wind howled across the ridge. Fearing Skygnaw hadn't heard her, Clarice strained her voice to a shout. "I can give you sanctuary. I will authorize your continued presence in the Northern District outposts and provide official cover. I give you my word: the Autobots and NEST will not set foot in the Edge State!"
Not a single step?
Skygnaw let out a soft, chanical chuckle. He didn't take the promise seriously for a second. If Optimus Pri actually pinpointed his location, the Autobots would drop from the sky in minutes, regardless of what so human politician promised.
"Technology for security. A fair trade."
Skygnaw reached into his chest compartnt and produced a black data-vault, tossing it casually at Clarice's feet. "Madam, have your people verify the contents."
"Please wait a mont, Mr. Skygnaw."
Without needing Clarice's command, Lawrence scrambled to retrieve the box and hurried it back to the team of scientists in white coats. Minutes later, he returned to Clarice's side, his face flushed.
"It's verified. It's... it's all real," Lawrence whispered, his voice barely audible, yet Skygnaw's sensitive audio-receptors captured every syllable.
Skygnaw felt a flicker of amusent. It was real, of course—but it was technology designed to lead them down a series of developntal dead ends for years. Skygnaw wasn't about to dig his own grave by handing over the keys to the Cybertronian kingdom. If the humans truly mastered their science, they'd use those new weapons on him the mont it was convenient.
"Mr. Skygnaw, I thank you for your trust!" Clarice's face bead. She hadn't expected the eting to go this smoothly. Lawrence had always told her the Decepticons were mindless monsters, but the giant standing before her seed remarkably... reasonable.
"Do not be so quick with your thanks, Madam."
Skygnaw flashed a sharp, predatory grin. To ensure Clarice didn't flip the script the mont she got ho, he needed to dangle a bigger lure.
"What I gave you is rely the root of our vast technological tree. We are a stellar civilization with a history that dwarfs your entire species. Our individuals possess god-like power, our ships cross galaxies, and our howorld holds infinite resources..."
...Used to, Skygnaw added silently.
"It is not that I cannot give you higher technology, Madam; it is that your primitive scientific foundation cannot even comprehend the principles yet. But I promise—once you master these basics, I will provide the next tier."
He was a master of the "corporate carrot." Clarice's eyes glazed over as she imagined a future where her nation stood as the sole inheritor of alien divinity. Skygnaw knew he had done enough.
"I have shown my sincerity. Now, I expect to see yours."
Clarice looked at Lawrence, then back to the giant. "Rest assured, Mr. Skygnaw. You will see results very soon."
"I believe you, Madam." Skygnaw nodded, eyeing the surrounding guards. "Our business here is concluded. Farewell."
Only when the silver Foxhound Interceptor had shrunk to the size of a distant bird did Clarice pull her coat tighter. Now that the adrenaline had faded, the Alaskan cold felt twice as sharp.
"Let's go, Lawrence. We have a cake to cut back in Washington."
"Madam Secretary, those 'Autobot-only' proponents at NEST won't know what hit them."
Clarice chuckled. "Rest assured, Lawrence. My husband and I won't forget your contribution to this 'New Dawn'."
Base One. The Laboratory.
Upon returning, Skygnaw went straight to the secure dical bay. The deal with Clarice had effectively neutralized the imdiate threat of a NEST raid, giving him the perfect window for his final evolution.
"Master, the transplants for the auxiliary units are complete. Would you like to inspect them?" Pestilence approached him, sounding proud of his work.
"Show ."
Pestilence had beco a natural with the migration protocols. Skygnaw checked the neural modules of several Low and Mid-Class drones he had constructed. The surgical precision was impressive—Pestilence had a gift for technical "healing."
"Excellent work," Skygnaw praised. "You have a talent for this, Pestilence. Much more than I anticipated."
"In that case..." Skygnaw's optics sharpened. "Follow ."
He led Pestilence to the restricted zone of the lab. A massive object stood in the center, draped in heavy black shrouds. Skygnaw gripped the fabric and tore it away.
Whish—
A dark, terrifying chassis was revealed. It was a brutal, prival fra, standing at a staggering 13.3 ters (43.6 feet). It bore no resemblance to the ancient Wanderer.
The height wasn't for show. The fra was built around a centralized Fusion Cannon mounted in the chest—a devastating upgrade based on Blackout's "Space Cannon" logic, but refined with superior materials. To power it, Skygnaw had added a Fusion Core reservoir on the back, necessitating the larger fra.
Beyond the chest cannon, the chassis was bristling with a Photon Autocannon and Heat-Seeking Missile Pods calibrated specifically to track the infrared signature of a Cybertronian Spark.
Skygnaw ran a hand over the cold Orion Live-tal plating. It was perfect.
"Master... you're ready to migrate?" Pestilence asked, sensing the gravity of the mont.
"Yes." Skygnaw pulled a containnt vessel from his chest. Inside, the violet-red Commander-Class Spark pulsed with newfound vigor. Strangely, it looked much healthier than when he had first harvested it.
Is my own spark acting as a charger? Skygnaw wondered. Then, he pulled out his second treasure: the AllSpark Fragnt.
He placed the two items side-by-side. The Spark of a Commander and a shard of the Creator.
"Master, look!" Pestilence gasped. "The AllSpark fragnt... it's reacting!"
Skygnaw watched closely. The Fragnt began to vibrate at a high frequency, humming with a sound that resonated in his very core. It seed to have found an outlet—a vessel through which to pour its infinite creative energy.
"I'm going to see what happens," Skygnaw whispered, his hand reaching for the shard.
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