It didn't hurt. Holding onto a shard of life was rather mundane, contrary to what one would imagine. It was as if life was but a worthless possession and losing it would have no consequences nor any rewards. It was hard to care, to cling to the light that was steadily dimming.

Then there was another life. Another light? It glowed with a bright passion, beating with a rhythm that couldn't be mistaken for anything other than what it was. Sheer desperation.

And it was different too, Optimus realized. The spark he was looking at was nothing like his own, and slowly, ever so slowly, he began to notice the small light that he hung onto. To remember it's significance.

His being filled with confusion as he looked between the two forms, one bursting with life and the other so close to being snuffed. It was enviable, the brilliance of the other spark, but Optimus knew better than to wish for that which was not his.

But if it didn't belong to him, then who did it belong to and what was it doing here?

Where was here?

The space was dark and ominous, but not without warmth. Optimus reached out, feeling the thin veil that encased him and the other light. It was so thin that he could almost see blurred figures dancing on the other side, their contentment radiating through him in small, feeble loads.

For a moment, he considered breaking through the veil. It would be easy, really, and the small shard of spark left in him would bleed into the abyss, becoming one with the Allspark.

Oh.

Optimus pulled away from the veil. This was it. The final rest that contained all those who are lost to the world of the living. He knew, certainly, that he did want to join them, to be forever at peace, with no needs, wants, or sorrows. He would be encased in the numbness of eternity.

Hesitantly, Optimus reached out, his essence and all that remained of him brushing against the veil, longing for the promise of rest.

A reflection caught his optics, pulling his focus back to the other light, which shared his little bubble and watched him with an indifferent stare.

He never did find out about the other light. Cautiously, Optimus found himself drawing nearer to it, curiosity overtaking his previous longing. It was dormant and quiet, but steady, and still bright within. Flashes of color struck him, moving pictures embedded within.

"Where the hell are my stilettos!?" a black femme demanded, her sharp digits wrapped around the forearm of a vaguely familiar-looking sparkling. "I know you took them!"

"I didn't!" the child cried out, silver lubricant running lines down her soft face.

The older femme seethed and shoved the sparkling back before storming out of the room. With a small yelp, the sparkling hit the wall and then slid down, her small green servos covering her face.

A moment passed and another door in the distance slammed closed. Slowly, the sparkling lowered her arms and her optics trailed across the room, landing on a trash can, the insides smeared with soot.

She smiled through the tears.

Optimus blinked quickly and leaned away from the light. It pulsed softly, no longer desperate, but calm. He tilted his helm.

Wait.

His body.

Optimus could feel his frame encasing his spark now. He had been so close to joining the Allspark that he'd almost forgotten his physical form.

The light remained still, and Optimus watched it for a long moment. He didn't know who the child was, but now, memories that didn't belong to him now invaded his mind and he needed to know.

The Allspark was all but forgotten as he stepped back into it.

The femme sat against a dirty wall, her arms wrapped around her knees. She was older now. A teenager. Her armour was dark and curved like her mother's had been, but lit up with green, barely visible beneath the grime that coated her frame.

Dozens of other bots shared the large cell with her, and most seemed to be in a similar condition, but others were far worse with energon leaking from untreated wounds and others hunched over to cough with liquids dotting the palms of their servos.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and two bulky mechs stepped inside, painted uniformly and bearing the dazed optics of brainwashed bots. They called out a number and the femme tensed, only glancing at her wrist to see if the number matched.

"F-56!" the mechs called out again.

Quickly, other bots began to turn on each other. None of them wanted to enter the ring, so they needed to find the intended target before a substitute was chosen. The femme curled in on herself and tried not to attract attention.

It was for naught. Within a minute, she was grabbed by both arms and dragged through the doors. This was only her fourth match, and she'd barely managed to get through the first three. The chances of her luck getting her through another was slim.

F-56 had nothing to fight for. Her sire was gone and her carrier had been murdered by one of her lovers. Now she was in hell and hell would do what hell was made to do. It broke her down and now it was going to kill her.

She went limp and let the mechs drag her pedes toward her final destination. What was there left to fight for? To win a match was the be a tool for the wealthy and nothing more.

The gates were open and she was thrown inside. Crowds lined the arena, roaring for blood, and bright lights hit stung her optics, making her blink rapidly as she stood to face her opponent. The mech stood across from her, his armor silver and sharp, and his optics hard and emotionless, but a small frown pulled at his face. He was anyone's worst nightmare, a champion of the rich and a slayer of the strong. He ate weaklings like her for breakfast.

The crowd, impatient, called for action, chanting their blood-thirsty words as if they couldn't stand to watch F-56 live for another moment. She supposed it would do no good to sit around and wait, so F-56 walked forward.

She wasn't afraid, she was just sad. Sad that her only life had been spent so poorly and now she was to pay the price for the crime of being an orphan. F-56 looked up as the mech approached, his fist raised to strike her. She took the first blow and stumbled back, raising her helm up only enough to see the fist ram into her face again, knocking her to the ground.

F-56 stood up, but he wasn't attacking anymore.

"Fight," he ordered harshly. "It's tha only way ya get ta live."

"I'm not going to live anyway," she told him softly. "You win."

He glared. "Yer not allowed ta surrender. If I don't terminate ya, we both be terminated."

F-56 looked him in the optics. "Seems like an easy choice for you."

The mech scowled. The crowd continued to scream at them and his optics flickered around the arena. Guards raised their weapons from beyond the chain fences, offering a subtle warning. She looked back down and waited until he was ready. It wasn't long.

Again, her punched her. Then again, and again. F-56 hit the ground and stayed down, her face shining with energon as the blue liquid leaked from various wounds littering her frame. Still, she refused to fight.

The mech raised his pede over her helm. It would be a quick death this way. One fatal blow and she would be gone.

But he paused. His spark ached each time he had to kill an unwilling prisoner of this place, but each of them had fought back. Each time he had the excuse of fighting for his life. Some were pathetic and cowardly, but he'd taken them all down. He had to.

This femme didn't care. She had lost all hope. She wasn't afraid, just done. She was so young and weak, but already, she'd managed to escape the cycle of violence and death that had trapped him in this arena for so long.

His pede lowered slowly and landed next to her helm. He wanted to be done too.

So he grabbed her arm, surprising her, and tossed her over the shoulder. Then, he ran straight toward the gates.

"Optimus? Optimus!"

The Prime's optics flickered and online, lighting up blue once more. A blurry white and orange shape leaned over him, with more strange colors behind him. He crinkled his brows and tried to move, but he didn't have the energy.

His spark, now larger than before, glowed weakly from the hole that had been ripped into his chassis. Optimus's optics darkened.

The same mech was sprawled on the floor at her pedes, a proud smile on his face. She grinned back and placed her servos on her hips, showing off the Decepticon symbol etched onto her shoulder. She was older now, appearing to be a young woman.

"I told you I was gonna kick your aft today," she boasted.

The mech rolled his optics and stood. "You say that every day."

"It was different today," she insisted. "I was totally taking you down for making me room with Airachnid."

"Airachnid is nice," he protested. "You should be thankin' me."

"She is an air-helm," the femme hissed. "She stared at the wall for almost ten minutes last night and then asked if I thought scraplets were worth saving."

The two laughed.

"He's stabilizing. Arcee, call Agent Fowler. Bumblebee, go tell the others."

"Thank Primus."

"What have you done?" Megatron stared across the chamber at her.

"It's quite simple, really," Optimus smirked, placing his servo on the femme's shoulder. "I'll let you fig–"

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?" Megatron roared, his optics alight with rage. His teammates, shocked, took steps back, frightened by the animosity radiating off their leader.

Optimus's smirk faltered and his optics flashed with fear as the Decepticons leader stomped forward, despite the multitude of blasters the Autobots had pointed at him. Sheer fury could have deflected their blasts.

Temptest stepped forward, standing between Optimus and Megatron. Her arm raised quickly and she pointed it at Megatron, snarling. The mech stopped and stared, heartbroken for merely a moment before his optics lit up with cold hate once more and he looked past her to glare daggers at Optimus.

"Kill him," the warlord demanded.

Temptest obeyed.

"Optimus?" Bumblebee's voice struck through the memory. "Ratchet says that bots in stasis lock can't hear anything, but... Raf told me I should talk to you anyway. I want to believe that you're going to wake up. I need you to wake up. Please. I'm... just... give me a sign. Please. Anything. Tell me you're going to be alright."

There was a moment of silence before he heard the gentle bot begin to cry.