The Decepticon waiting in Chicago was indeed Skygnaw.
Days earlier, after clashing with Optimus Prime and breaking contact in Ukraine, he had crossed the ocean to the American mainland.
He knew Laserbeak was running loose across the city, staging sudden accidents to silence human loose ends. Skygnaw had no interest in joining a clean-up detail meant for lesser operatives.
Still, he hadn't been idle during this span.
The sudden arrival of Razorclaw, landing directly before him, was the culmination of his recent preparations.
Shortly after Skygnaw settled in, Razorclaw descended through the overcast sky as if keeping a prearranged appointment.
Taking advantage of Optimus Prime and the Autobots departing for the Moon, the Predacons had brought an advance detachment of Decepticons down to Earth under complete secrecy.
Evading Autobot sensors was challenging, but human orbital arrays were practically blind to Cybertronian stealth fields.
Even so, to avoid unnecessary risk, the main body of their forces remained stationed on Mars.
Moving an entire invasion fleet at once was simply too conspicuous.
"Lord Skygnaw, following your directives, several forward bases have been established across Mars..."
Landing smoothly, Razorclaw delivered a concise situational report before lowering his head respectfully. "As ordered, aside from our air wings, the Nemesis is carrying half of our allied organic shock troops. The vessel is currently concealed on this world..."
Before departing Mars, Skygnaw had organized every operational phase down to the smallest detail, leaving his forces to carry out their routines methodically.
Razorclaw's deployment to Earth didn't leave the Martian redoubt leaderless.
Alongside the Predacons, two senior assault units remained on the red planet: the Terrorcons and the Seacons.
Snaptrap, commander of the Seacons, had worked alongside Shockwave for cycles. Handling administrative logistics and garrison upkeep came naturally to him.
"Razorclaw, how goes the resource extraction on Mars?"
With Sentinel Prime about to rejoin the Autobots, Skygnaw needed his supplies secured early.
Soundwave had passed along the intelligence regarding Optimus Prime's lunar launch.
"Lord Skygnaw," Razorclaw replied, his tone brightening with excitement. "The deposits across that planet far exceed our initial projections. Several automated refineries are already online."
"Good. Keep the fleet on standby and await my signal."
The outcome matched Skygnaw's calculations. The Fallen wouldn't have lingered in the Martian sector for so long if the ground had been barren.
Cybertronians needed raw materials for far more than pressing Energon cubes. Activating newly forged sparks, rebuilding combat frames, manufacturing munitions, and fueling capital ships burned through staggering volumes of raw ore.
If Energon rations were like daily meals for humans, the Decepticons had previously survived on starvation rations.
Securing a true surplus had been out of the question.
Everything else—maintenance cycles, structural upgrades, logistical staging—had been completely sidelined.
Once Skygnaw ascended to Prime status, those shortages vanished.
First, he seized Planet Kugrage, using its vast assets to build an armada while routing raw resources back to the troops. Later, he led the army straight to the Martian frontier.
In the short time since he achieved his new rank, the entire Decepticon hierarchy had seen a massive revitalization. Countless soldiers already viewed Skygnaw as an equal supreme commander alongside Megatron.
Loyalty was admirable, but it didn't fill an empty fuel tank. While none declared open treason, if an outright rift ever erupted between Skygnaw and Megatron, the number of Decepticons ready to back Skygnaw would surpass anyone's expectations.
Though this solar system sat in an isolated arm of the galaxy, its material wealth was exceptional, boasting two resource-rich planets side by side in Mars and Earth.
Earth was a world brimming with organic life.
As for why Skygnaw had bypassed Mars early on to conquer distant Kugrage, the reason was straightforward.
Mars had lacked the industrial infrastructure required to construct interstellar warships.
Early on, his plan had simply been to haul raw Kugrage ore back to Cybertron's orbital moons.
Only after discovering that Kugrage was already a turnkey domain—complete with an abundant labor force and mineral reserves richer than Mars—did he adjust his deployment on the fly.
Had he caused too much noise on Mars early on, the Autobots would have intercepted his operations in no time.
Back then, he commanded only the Nemesis, without an entire fleet at his back. Even if he could hold his ground against the Autobots' flagship, his shipbuilding initiative would have been stopped in its tracks.
"Razorclaw, take me to the Nemesis," Skygnaw decided after a moment's reflection.
He needed to handle a simmering issue aboard the warship before the wider campaign kicked off.
The timing wasn't right for an open confrontation. With Shockwave and Soundwave maintaining active links, Megatron surely knew about the fleet by now.
Once news of the Nemesis's return spread, Megatron might well demand the flagship back.
Returning the ship to its original master was technically fair, but Skygnaw had grown rather fond of using the dreadnought himself.
Still, Skygnaw had never intended to hide the vessel's arrival from Megatron forever.
Keeping such a colossal warship secret on Earth was impossible anyway.
Megatron likely knew about the campaign on Kugrage, as well as the organic auxiliaries under his command.
Too many troops had accompanied that expedition to keep the details quiet.
Yet with the Autobots still in the field, and Skygnaw standing firmly in the Prime tier, Megatron had chosen not to press the issue.
Antarctica.
The Nemesis lay concealed across the frozen expanse of the southern continent. The brutal climate and vast, desolate ice sheets offered the ultimate natural cloaking ground.
Hiding an interstellar warship among the glaciers was remarkably simple.
Skygnaw flew behind Razorclaw across the endless white desert. Just as the glare of the ice began to strain their optics, a dark silhouette appeared hovering above the frozen horizon.
As they approached, sentries on the upper decks—both Decepticons and armored organic soldiers—raised their carbines in unison.
Recognizing the command signature, they lowered their weapons and snapped to attention.
Good. The discipline is holding.
Watching the deck crew from a distance, Skygnaw nodded inwardly.
Keeping an active guard was essential. Decepticons had never lacked brutality or raw aggression, though whether that ferocity was driven by discipline or sheer volatile programming remained an open question.
Even so, it was acceptable for frontline shock troops.
Where the Decepticons truly struggled was tactical discipline.
Setting aside freak battlefield incidents, far too many Decepticons throughout the war had fallen to unforced errors.
Arrogance made them sloppy. They repeatedly underestimated their opposition, looking down on humans until an unexpected counterattack took them out.
Before returning to Earth, Skygnaw hadn't bothered intervening in their usual habits.
Now, with the ancient threat of the Quintessons looming in the shadows of the future, he had begun drilling proper military doctrine into his forces.
"Lord Skygnaw!"
The moment his pedes struck the flight deck, Luoha, commander of the organic auxiliary force, hurried over with an eager salute.
"Is there an issue?" Skygnaw acknowledged with a slight tilt of his helm.
Luoha had once served as a high-ranking officer in the imperial royal guard on Kugrage.
After Skygnaw eliminated the old sovereign and installed Vala on the throne, Luoha had quickly pledged allegiance to the new regime. Even so, he had been sidelined by the imperial court.
A change in rulers always brought a purge of the inner circle, and Luoha had neither noble blood nor family ties to the palace.
Viewed as entirely expendable by the Kugrage nobility, he had been saddled with the hazardous assignment of marching alongside Lord Skygnaw's expeditionary force.
He now commanded the conscripted planetary division, grandly titled the First Imperial Expeditionary Legion.
While the organics served under Skygnaw's banner, he rarely interfered in their internal politics.
After reviewing the roster Vala submitted, Skygnaw hadn't voiced any objections. Who held the rank of legion commander was irrelevant to him.
As long as the auxiliary unit obeyed orders and held the line, they served their purpose.
"Lord Skygnaw..."
Luoha had no actual emergency to report; he simply wanted to make his presence felt and reaffirm his loyalty.
Though they served under Skygnaw, several Decepticon officers treated the organics with open condescension, only restraining their tempers because of Skygnaw's standing orders.
Skygnaw was aware of the friction, but resolving it immediately was impractical.
It involved complex layers of physical strength, species divides, and factional seniority that couldn't be smoothed over overnight.
The dynamic felt oddly familiar to him, mirroring how human empires in his previous life had deployed colonial auxiliary forces.
Since leaving their homeworld, the organic soldiers had been stunned by the scale of the cosmos, especially when beholding Cybertron and Earth. Their awe had only deepened their reverence for Skygnaw.
"Lord Skygnaw, do you intend to conquer this world?"
"If that is your command, the First Expeditionary Legion stands ready to lead the vanguard."
Luoha's gaze burned with ambition. Serving directly under Skygnaw was dangerous, but it offered unparalleled rewards.
Hadn't Skygnaw placed Emperor Vala on the imperial throne with a single word?
The common folk might remain blind to who pulled the strings, but senior commanders understood the hierarchy clearly.
Leaving Blackarachnia behind on Kugrage made it obvious that Skygnaw kept the young emperor on a tight leash.
Skygnaw looked down at the officer with a measured stare. Having spoken with him only a few times, he hadn't realized Luoha was so eager to advance his own standing.
"Luoha, keep your soldiers fully armed and ready. Your unit will be deployed shortly."
"By your command, Lord Skygnaw!"
Dismissing Luoha, Skygnaw followed Razorclaw deep into the bowels of the warship toward the containment bay holding Cyclonus.
Razorclaw had left his post not just to report the ship's coordinates, but because Cyclonus was showing signs of instability.
"Lord Skygnaw, ever since the Nemesis entered this world's atmosphere, his systems have been surging violently. He keeps straining against the containment locks."
Skygnaw peered into the secure cell at the thrashing warrior bound within the heavy clamps.
Just as Razorclaw described, Cyclonus's optics blazed with erratic crimson light, his frame convulsing in wild fury, stripped of his usual cold stillness.
To keep Cyclonus secure, Skygnaw had implemented reinforced containment protocols.
"Razorclaw, assemble Rampage, Divebomb, Tantrum, and Headstrong."
"Right away, my Lord."
Moments later, the entire Predacon squad stood at attention outside the cell.
"Tell me truthfully: what did you do to him?"
"My Lord..."
Skygnaw's low, even question sent a collective shiver through the squad.
"Lord Skygnaw, without your direct authorization, none of us would dare enter this chamber."
"He speaks the truth," the other Predacons chimed in immediately. "We maintained perimeter guard outside. No one breached the door."
"Is that so?" Skygnaw swept his optics across each warrior. Satisfied they weren't deceiving him, he signaled with a wave of his hand.
"Hold your posts outside. I will inspect the chamber alone."
"Understood, my Lord."
The Predacons exchanged subtle glances, relieved to have avoided punishment.
Letting a high-value prisoner slip out of control was a serious operational failure, but Skygnaw had chosen to overlook it.
"Lord Skygnaw's presence grows more imposing by the day..."
"Quiet down, Tantrum. He operates on the same Prime level as Lord Megatron!"
"Hey, Headstrong, what is wrong with the prisoner in there?"
"I couldn't tell you. The thrashing started the moment the ship breached orbit."
"Lord Skygnaw mentioned he was compromised by an outside infection, something volatile that can spread..."
Their quiet whispers faded as the blast door sealed shut behind Skygnaw.
Inside the containment chamber, Skygnaw studied the violent surges running through Cyclonus's frame, attempting to identify the root cause of the shift.
Cyclonus had remained dormant for cycles. A sudden escalation made no tactical sense.
After extracting him from Planet Charr, Skygnaw had run numerous tests on his systems. While groundbreaking discoveries were few, several critical traits had been verified.
The most prominent was the substance's ability to reanimate fallen Cybertronians.
Corrupted, deactivated husks were easy to find across Cybertron; one could sift through the rubble of any ruined sector and uncover weathered frames within minutes.
Missing limbs or fractured plating made no difference to the reanimation process.
Confirming the trait had been simple enough: Skygnaw had tapped a small sample of the dark fuel from Cyclonus's lines and transfused it into a dead shell, producing an aggressive Terrorcon drone.
The reanimated drone shared many traits with the feral variants on Charr, though its movement was stiffer, its speed sluggish, and its combat routines simplistic.
Yet its armor density and physical resilience were significantly higher.
Wait... what is this?
Studying the violent convulsions closely, Skygnaw caught sight of an anomaly.
From the jagged puncture across Cyclonus's chest plate, thick drops of dark fluid were weeping through the seams, coalescing into pulsing, liquid beads.
The dark beads vibrated intensely, straining against the edges of the armor as if fighting to tear free from Cyclonus's body and bleed into the open air.
The fuel was acting as though it were alive.
Recalling Razorclaw's report that the thrashing began the moment the Nemesis crossed into Earth's upper atmosphere, an extraordinary realization struck Skygnaw's processor:
Could this dark substance truly be the lifeblood of the planet sleeping beneath our feet?
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