The wind howled across the open highway as Zayden leaned forward on Arcee's back in her motorcycle form, the speed blurring the world into streaks of grey and dust. Behind them, Mikaela followed in her pickup, a quiet fire burning in her chest. She wasn't sure what she'd just seen in that hidden chamber—alien history, ancient holograms, codes in the sky—but she knew one thing for certain:
The world was bigger and more dangerous than she'd ever imagined.
And Zayden? He wasn't just some tall, hot guy with secrets. He was something… more.
"You doing okay back there?" Arcee's voice buzzed into Zayden's ear through their link.
"Just thinking," he replied, adjusting his grip. "About what the Archivist said. 'The Shadow Weaver remembers my soul.' It wasn't metaphorical. She actually knows me."
Arcee didn't respond right away. The road curved into a canyon, sunlight glinting off the rock walls like blade edges.
"She's one of the oldest Decepticons," Arcee said eventually. "Before the war, before even Megatron's rise. Airachnid was an executioner for the forgotten orders. Rumors say she could track a spark across dimensions—through time."
Zayden clenched his jaw. "Then it wasn't coincidence that I ended up here, was it?"
"No. And if the Archivist was right, you're not just here to fight this war… You're here to change its outcome."
---
By late afternoon, they arrived back at the junkyard. Dust clung to their clothes, and the air reeked of old motor oil and scorched steel. Bumblebee was waiting.
The yellow Autobot gave a digital chirp and projected a playful hologram of Zayden faceplanting during training last week.
"Very funny, Bee," Zayden groaned. "But we've got something serious now."
Arcee transformed, stepping forward. "The Decepticons are on the move. We triggered something ancient—something they might already know about. We need more than scrap and secrets."
Zayden nodded. "We need allies."
---
That night, the makeshift team gathered in the yard. Bumblebee, Ratchet—who had returned from scouting old energon deposits—and a few lesser-known Autobots Zayden hadn't met yet: Tapout, a compact close-quarters fighter, and Glyph, a language specialist who spoke more dialects than Zayden had years alive.
Ratchet grumbled from his corner. "You activated a Class-A relic core without any shielding? Are you trying to give this planet an Energon heart attack?"
"It wasn't like I had a manual, Doc," Zayden replied. "And we didn't walk out empty-handed. We know the Archivist is real. We know she—Airachnid—is watching."
Glyph tilted her head. "There are other archive nodes scattered around Earth. If we recover and decrypt them, we might uncover a map… or a weapon."
Zayden snapped his fingers. "Exactly what we need. But we can't go at this like scavengers. We need structure. Roles. Coordination."
Tapout grinned. "You talk like you've done this before."
Zayden smirked. "Let's just say I've played war games… a lot."
He walked toward a rusted-out school bus door now repurposed as a whiteboard. With a swipe, he drew four large circles, connecting them with arrows.
"First circle—Recovery. Glyph, Mikaela, and me. We'll track down archive locations and decode their messages."
"Second—Defense. Tapout, Bee, and Ratchet will fortify this place. If Airachnid sends drones again, we make this junkyard a fortress."
"Third—Infiltration. Arcee and I will strike fast if we get coordinates on Decepticon activity. Surprise and intel extraction."
"Fourth—Development. I'll work with the Omnitrix and try to unlock more forms. We've barely scratched the surface."
Arcee nodded. "He's right. We need to operate like a real unit."
Ratchet, though grumpy, grunted in reluctant agreement. "I'll rig surveillance from the Decepticon drones we recovered. Maybe we can hijack their comms too."
Mikaela leaned over to Zayden. "You ever consider being a general?"
He laughed softly. "No, but I've had to fight like one."
Glyph stepped forward and projected a faint holographic grid across the junkyard, scanning it.
"One of the archive pings is in Northern Canada," she said. "Deep beneath ice, near what appears to be an impact crater."
Zayden crossed his arms. "Then that's our next mission. We move tomorrow. Quiet, fast, and ready for trouble."
Tapout pumped his fist. "Finally! Been rusting in this yard for weeks."
As everyone dispersed to prepare, Mikaela lingered beside Zayden, watching the stars emerge above the crumbling fence line.
"You really believe we can stop what's coming?" she asked quietly.
Zayden looked at the Omnitrix. It pulsed with green light, calm but alive. "I have to. Because if I'm the fracture in fate… then maybe I'm also the one who can rewrite it."
Mikaela smiled, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "Then you better not get yourself killed, Omniversal Boy."
Zayden chuckled. "Not planning to. I've got too many reasons to live."
His eyes met hers—for just a second too long.
Then Arcee's voice cut through the night. "Zayden. One last thing."
He turned.
She walked forward and handed him a glowing fragment of metal.
"This was lodged in the wreckage we found. It's from her. Airachnid's stealth tech. She's leaving us clues now… like breadcrumbs."
Zayden held the fragment.
It was cold.
Sharp.
And it pulsed faintly with black, violet-tinted light.
"I think she wants me to find her."
Arcee nodded. "And when you do?"
Zayden's green eyes glowed in the dark. "I'm going to show her why she should've stayed in the shadows."