"Hey! What was that!"
At that moment, Leo came running over, with a yellow Camaro and two Chevy subcompacts close behind. Having heard the commotion caused by Jetfire, Bumblebee—worried about the group's safety—had led the twins, Skids and Mudflap, into the museum.
"The museum staff is going to be absolutely furious this time," Simmons muttered, glancing back at the trail of wreckage they had left behind. "Whatever. We have to catch up to that guy."
Behind the museum lay a vast, unused tarmac filled with hundreds of retired aircraft of various models. With Bumblebee's help, the group quickly located Jetfire, who was wandering aimlessly among the planes.
"Wait! Hold on! Stop breaking the planes!" Sam jumped out of the car and ran toward the ancient robot. "Don't do that! We can't afford to pay for these!"
Bumblebee and the twins stopped at a distance, not daring to approach recklessly. They had already identified that this stranger was a Commander-class warrior. Although he appeared to be in a state of severe disrepair, a Commander-class was still not something they could handle easily.
"Brother, are we just going to stand here and watch the boy run to his death?" Skids whispered to Mudflap, though his choice of words wasn't exactly supportive.
"What do you mean 'death'?" Mudflap replied. "That's called a heroic sacrifice for a righteous cause. We Autobots will remember him..."
VROOM—
The roar of the Camaro's engine cut Mudflap off; Bumblebee had heard enough.
"Skids, Mudflap," Bumblebee said seriously, "We have to believe in Sam, just as we once believed in Optimus. Right now, he's the only one who can lead us to victory. If anything goes wrong, we charge in immediately to protect him."
"Listen, listen!" After a frantic chase, Sam finally managed to get in front of Jetfire. "I just want to talk to you!"
"I don't have time for small talk," Jetfire grumbled, raising an arm and casually snapping the wing off a nearby plane. "Tell me, is this planet called Dirt-Ball?"
"No, it has a much more beautiful name than Dirt-Ball," the pursuing Simmons panted.
"Don't tell me, I don't want to hear it," Jetfire said, looking at the ground with disgust. "A planet covered in dirt... it's a pity it's not called Dirt-Ball. By the way, is the war on Cybertron still going? Who won?"
"Cybertronians? Do you mean the Decepticons and Autobots?" Simmons interjected. Unlike the higher-ups at NEST, the long-fired Simmons was out of the loop regarding current faction dynamics.
"Yes, you can call them Cybertronians, though I prefer to use their specific names," Sam explained, then shouted up to Jetfire: "The Decepticons won!"
"Dammit! I knew it!" Jetfire clenched his fists, angrily punching the ground before leaning down to glare at Sam. "Listen up. I'm switching sides to the Autobots now. Tell those three guys you came with."
"Switching? What does that mean?"
"It's a choice! A choice made after intense internal struggle," Jetfire said, his gaze turning deep. "If the Decepticons completely defeat the Autobots, they will destroy the entire universe. That is something I will not see."
"Alright, same old speech... I'm getting calluses on my ears," Sam muttered.
"You said it, kid," Simmons nodded in agreement. "I'm getting a sense of deja vu too."
While the humans were unimpressed, Wheelie excitedly skated over to Mikaela's boots. "I'm switching too! I'm an Autobot now! I want to stay with my goddess!" He clung to her boot, his chassis wiggling. "My name is Wheelie! Say my name! Say my name!"
"Oh," Mikaela knelt down and patted the small robot's head. "You're so cute..."
"What's the deal with him?" Sam asked, looking on curiously.
"I don't know. Ever since that slap earlier, he's been like this."
"You can stand him acting like that?"
"At least he's devoted," Mikaela stood up and looked at Sam. "More devoted than you were back at school, anyway."
"Fine, you win," Sam shrugged. "He's devoted, shameless, and thick-skinned. You'd better make him settle down."
"Excuse me!" Jetfire slammed his cane against the ground. "Are you even paying attention to me? And you, little punk, what did you want to talk about!"
"Right, right..." Sam quickly tried to appease him. "I think we can help each other. I know things you don't, and you know things I don't. I need your help identifying some symbols."
"Honestly," Leo whispered as he stepped behind Sam, "I don't think he knows anything. Maybe we should find the other Seekers."
"Leo, shut up!"
Sam found a suitable tool from one of the damaged aircraft and chose a patch of clear ground. He began to carve the ancient symbols that were etched into his memory.
"Even though they're symbols, they're vivid... like they're alive. Megatron wants them. He was going to have someone pull my brain out to get them. And there's another Decepticon looking for me... he's called The Fallen."
"The Fallen... I know him," Jetfire said, a flicker of memory passing through his optics. "I followed him to this planet. It's because of him that I'm here rusting."
Millions of years ago, Jetfire could not bear to see a planet teeming with life destroyed by The Fallen. After arriving on Earth, he secretly reported The Fallen's plan to the other Primes. After the Great War, he stayed behind in secret to guard against The Fallen's return. It seemed his fears had come true, but Jetfire knew his own time was running out.
"The Fallen is not to be trifled with," Jetfire explained. "His mind is full of destruction and chaos. He didn't used to be that way..."
His former master, The Fallen, had once been the most powerful of the original Primes. Jetfire didn't know why he had abandoned his name and become such a monster.
"This is ancient source code containing vast amounts of information, straight from the heart of the AllSpark," Jetfire said, pointing to the symbols Sam had carved. "They are the essence of the AllSpark. They can do more things than you can imagine."
Having lived since the dawn of Cybertron, Jetfire recognized the origin of the symbols instantly, despite his aging processor.
"Let me think..." Jetfire stroked the metallic beard on his chin. "Why The Fallen would need them... I remember! They contain guidance. He is looking for the Tip of the Dagger and a Key. Yes, a key..."
"Slow down, can you repeat that?" Simmons asked, scribbling in a small notebook. "Tip of the Dagger, and a... what?"
"A Key."
"What key?"
"There is no time to explain! Close your eyes!"
Jetfire's expression suddenly turned grave. He stowed his cane on his back. He shielded Sam and the others with one hand while pointing the other toward Bumblebee and the twins. Both of his hands erupted with a blinding white light.
The intensity of the light forced Sam and the others to squeeze their eyes shut in fear. "What is—"
WHOOSH—
As the white light reached its zenith, a spatial teleportation opened. In a flash, Jetfire, Sam, and the others enveloped in the light vanished. The only things left behind were the echoes of screams fading into the wind and several strange symbols carved into the dirt.
Washington D.C., Dumont Building
Even though it was late at night, the building remained brightly lit. Several workers walked out, yawning. Ever since those damned aliens appeared, they hadn't slept a wink.
A man dressed as a clerk looked around and whispered, "I heard the Cabinet meeting tonight was unusually long?"
There were only five members of the Cabinet. Usually, they'd voice their opinions, vote, and be done. A session lasting most of the day was rare.
"Yeah, just finished. It's all because of those exter—"
Before the man could finish, his companion gasped and pointed toward the underground parking lot. "Hey, isn't that the private cars of Ms. Clarice and Mr. John Keller?"
Sure enough, two armored, stretched sedans pulled out one after the other, merging with a newly arrived security detail before leaving the building together.
The staff exchanged puzzled looks. Everyone in the Dumont Building knew the Cabinet bigwigs were constantly at each other's throats over power and influence. Seeing them leave together was practically a miracle.
In truth, John Keller didn't want to be anywhere near a woman as ruthless as Clarice. In his eyes, she and her husband were predators. However, he had no choice. He had been ordered to participate in the negotiations with the Decepticons alongside her. Or more accurately, they were going to test the waters.
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