Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Alya has been through this song and dance before, so honestly she was not fucking impressed.

Reincarnation is nothing new. She's been through more lives than she can count. Sometimes she knows who she was in her previous life, sometimes she comes into being as someone who can recall every detail of all her past lives, and sometimes the memories were nothing but faint echoes—fragments that only made came together when the right moment struck.

This time was one of those blurry rounds.

She recalled her previous life—how it ended far too soon. A girl with fiery red hair and caramel skin, falling on the battlefield. (Head severed at the neck, head severed at the neck, head severed at the neck—) Alya locked those memories away, promising herself she’d face them later.

Wasn’t there something she was supposed to do? Wasn’t that the very reason her memories had returned after twenty-one years in this life?

Wake up...

Wake up.

WAKE UP!

Alya shot upright, gasping for air, trying to steady her racing heart. Her surroundings slowly came into focus, the familiar worn walls, the muted color scheme she'd chosen when she first moved in.

Memories flooded back: waking in a place that felt like limbo. Meeting Primus.

Primus.

The God of Cybertron.

She recalled him raising a colossal arm, the space around them warping and rippling like light bending through water.

Before her eyes, the history of Cybertron unfolded.

She witnessed countless bots—the ones who became Autobots, those who followed the Decepticon path. The birth of each sparkling, the eventual offline of every bot, the rise and fall of Cybertron itself.

Primus watched alongside her.

“This,” he murmured, voice heavy with sorrow, “is my life—watching my creations… decay. Fade. Endure suffering.”

His tone deepened, soaked with the weight of eons. “I ask but one thing: save the rest of my children. Prevent their extinction.”

Before Alya could respond, the REINCARNATE yanked her away, shoving her consciousness into flesh and bone once again.

And for twenty-one years, the memories had stayed buried. She’d lived as a human—ate, slept, laughed, fought—thinking she was just Alya, just HUMAN.

Until she remembered everything.

Now the only question was: Which Universe had she landed in?

“Alright,” She muttered. “Let’s see where the hell I’ve landed.”

She looked around and spotted a mirror, huh...she looked exactly like her last life. She has gotten sort of attached to that look. Looking down she noticed a very familiar shard hanging around her neck, she remembered buying it a couple months ago because it seemed important. 

She scooched to the edge of the bed, pulling off her Allspark necklace. She's been meaning to fix the cord—it was fraying where it held the shard, and she wasn’t about to lose that thing now that she knew what it was. She grabbed a pair of scissors and snipped just above the knot.

It took a few tries to replicate the slip-knot system, you know, the adjustable ones. As she was threading the shard back on, it slipped out of her fingers.

The Allspark shard hit the ground, releasing a blinding flash of light that filled the entire room. Alya shielded her eyes, staggering back. When the brightness faded and her vision cleared, she blinked in disbelief.

Three tiny sparklings now sat in the middle of the room, their optics wide as they looked around curiously. 

All the electronics in the room had mysteriously vanished.

Alya stared at them in stunned silence. “…Well, shit.”

Letting out a long sigh, Alya pinched the bridge of her nose as the sparklings curiously began to explore their surroundings, completely unbothered.

Each had different optic colors: blue, green, and yellow.

Alya knelt beside them, watching as they chirped and whirred curiously. “Alright, you three. Listen up,” she said, trying to sound authoritative.

Instantly, they froze and turned toward her like a row of guilty toddlers caught mid-mischief.

“When we’re in public, you have to stay in in my bag. Got it? No exceptions. If I leave you here alone—which might happen—don’t make noise, don’t break things, and definitely don’t let anyone see you. No breaking things. No fighting. No blowing up the house. Understood?”

They all chirped and whirled in unison. She took that as agreement.

“Good.” She eyed them, trying to piece together their details. “Femmes on the left, mechs on the right.”

Only the green-optic one was a femme—a rarity among Cybertronian's nowadays, the fact there was a femme made Alya raise an eyebrow.

She stood back up, glancing down at her necklace. “Alright, I just need to finish fixing this. Go play quietly for a bit, I’ll name you in a minute.”

They didn’t need to be told twice. In an instant, they were exploring—again. At least they weren’t setting anything on fire... yet.

It didn’t take long—maybe another minute. She tugged the finished necklace over her head, the AllSpark shard pulsed faintly under her shirt—calmer now.

“Alright—” she turned back toward them and froze.

The green and yellow-optic sparklings had apparently teamed up against the blue-eyed one—who was slightly larger than the others. They were play-fighting, tumbling around like unruly kittens. The second they noticed her watching, they all froze mid-scuffle, staring at her with those huge, innocent optics like they’d done nothing wrong.

Alya crossed her arms. “Really? You two. Let your brother up.”

With guilty beeps, the green and yellow ones scrambled off the blue.

She pointed to the green-eyed femme. “Zephyra.” (Breath-of-wind-that-whispers-freedom)

Then to yellow. “Havoc.” (The-force-that-forges-new-paths)

And finally, blue. “Aquablaze.” (Burning-river-that-never-quenches)

The names felt right as soon as she spoke them, and the Allspark seemed to sing their meanings.

As she looked them over more closely, she started categorizing: Havoc had seeker traits—streamlined frame, wing joints. Aquablaze was built like a ground unit—stocky and sturdy. Zephyra… well, she had distinct signs of a triple-changer. That was going to be interesting.

Alya sat down cross-legged on the floor, letting the little ones swarm around her. One clambered into her lap, another curled up next to her legs. 

“Okay, okay,” She chuckled, “who wants to play 'hide 'n' seek'?”

The sparklings chirped curiously, optics flashing, and in that moment, nothing else mattered. For now, it was just them. Safe. Together.

And that was enough.

Chapter Text

6 Months Later...

As they exited the building, Alya immediately noticed the parked police cruiser sitting at the curb.

Of course.

She didn’t even need to read the decal—but she glanced at it anyway, and she almost snorted.

Barricade.

Of course, he was here. Him showing up in North Carolina instead of Nevada didn’t exactly shock her—but damn, could THEY not send someone major after her for once?

With a groan, she ducked into a side alley, heels clicking against the pavement. As she neared the end, she stopped, spun on her heel, and fixed a glare on the vehicle creeping up behind her.

“Is there a particular reason you're tailing me, Officer~?” She drawled, mocking emphasis on the title.

There was a brief pause before the car shuddered and transformed, unfolding into the towering, bipedal menace that was Barricade. He at least had the sense to kneel—he still dwarfed the buildings, but it was something.

“You carry the AllSpark.” he growled, leaning in far too close for comfort.

“A piece of the AllSpark,” Alya snapped, stepping forward to show she wasn't afraid. “Let’s get it right.”

Barricade narrowed his optics, studying her. “You know what I speak of.”

“I know a lot of things I probably shouldn’t.” She shot back coolly.

His gaze hardened. “The War.”

“Obviously.” She said.

Barricade vented loudly, his frustration palpable. “How?”

"Why are you so calm about all this?" She retorted.

He tilted his head and gestured past her. “There’s a little one hiding in your bag. I’d rather not scare it. One of yours? Made by the shard?”

Alya closed her eyes. Damn it. She glanced down—sure enough, Zephyra was in her true form, peeking out of her bag curiously.

“Seriously?” Alya hissed under her breath. “At least there aren’t any humans—wait, where are your brothers?”

A flicker of panic shot through her, and she scanned the alley frantically—only to spot Havoc and Aquablaze halfway up Barricade’s leg, trying to climb him like some kind of jungle gym.

“Bitlets!” She barked. “Get off that Mech!”

They paused, looked down at her with innocent optics, then scrambled back to her side.

“I—apologize for the Bitlets.” She muttered, facing Barricade again.

He stared. “There are three of them?”

“Yeah?” Alya raised a brow. “Didn't you know that? You were following us for 15 minutes. Think you would notice the three kids with me.”

“The allspark covered their signatures. I only knew when the femme transformed.” Barricade growled, looking closer at the Bitlets. 

“Hmm. I assumed they were Gestalts, but the smaller male is a seeker, the larger one has a ground base, and the femme is a Triple-changer. I don't know if they can still combine with different alt-forms.” Alya said gently scratching Havoc's wing nubs, he purred delighted.

Barricade paused, processor clearly racing, before folding back into his vehicle form. The passenger door popped open.

“Get in. We’ll talk on the road.”

Alya didn’t hesitate. Honestly, she had been waiting for this moment. Better to get it over with.

The silence in the car was awkward, save for the occasional chirps and mechanical clicks from the Bitlets in the back.

“You named them?” Barricade finally rumbled through the speaker, half his attention on the road, the other half on the three sparklings tumbling around his interior.

His tone was reverent, probably because he hadn’t seen a sparkling in decades. And the fact that one was a femme probably blew his logic processors.

Alya glanced at his dashboard, then nodded. “Yeah. The femme’s Zephyra. The big one’s Aquablaze. The Seeker is Havoc.” She motioned to each Bitlet accordingly.

“Good names.” he said simply.

A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

“How did the shard come into your possession?” he asked, blunt as ever.

Alya rolled her eyes. “Ask the Knockoff God of Metal himself. Primus dumped me into this universe with it.”

Barricade absorbed the information silently. “And how did you arrive here, exactly?”

“I died,” Alya said flatly. “Primus intercepted before the reincarnation loop could catch me and dumped me here instead.”

The mech swerved slightly, clearly thrown off. “...Right.”

He didn’t ask further. Smart.

“What’s your destination?”

“Alya Smith. And yours is Barricade.”

Alya turned away from him and watched the Bitlets tumbling around the interior. Barricade seemed to notice. “More will come for the shard.” he warned.

“I know.”

“What was your plan?”

Alya sighed. “I don’t have one.” [Lie]

He was quiet for a beat too long, as though weighing her answer. Then, carefully: “I could protect you.”

Her eyes flicked to the dashboard, narrowing. “In exchange for what?”

She was cautious.Good, it would protect her and the little ones. Bad, because it made it harder for her to trust him.

“The sparklings’ protection. And the shards. And… information.” His tone sharpened just slightly. “You know something, if Primus decided to bring you here.”

Alya’s mouth curved into a smile, but it was cold and sharp, a predator’s smile. Her eyes, reflected faintly in the glass, were all ice.

“Deal,” she said sweetly. “Just so we’re clear—I know way more than I should. Betray me, and I will make your life worse than a Decepticon prison camp.”

Barricade didn’t flinch—but something in his silence said he believed her.

As Alya turned her attention back to the Bitlets, Barricade accessed the US data base, pulling up her name.

Alya Smith.

Her records were normal. Average. Nothing special—unless you factored in the tiny detail that she wasn’t from this reality.

Chapter Text

5 Hours Later...

The car was quiet, save for the soft hum of the road and the gentle whirring of Barricade’s systems. The sparklings were curled up in the backseat, fast asleep, clutching their plushies and each other in a tangle of limbs and quiet clicks.

Barricade’s holoform sat calmly in the driver's seat to avoid suspicion from passing humans.

“You never answered me.” he said finally, voice kept low.

“Hm?” Alya cracked an eye open.

“About how you know what you do.”

Alya hummed. “I’m not from this universe—which you already know. Where I come from, your kind existed as a franchise. A fandom. Created by Hasbro. I grew up on it.”

Barricade stilled slightly.

“Transformers had a huge fandom. Multiple shows, timelines, comics... tons of continuities,” She continued. “I don’t know which one this universe actually is.”

Barricade was quiet for a beat. Her back was resting against his seat, so he could feel her heartbeat. It was steady—no lies.

“Shit,” he muttered, the human curse slipping out before he could stop it, and Alya snorted, a grin tugging at her lips.

"Do you know which continuity this is?"

“Why are you on Earth?” She shot back, squinting at him.

He hesitated, then answered, “To find the AllSpark.”

She nodd. “Bayverse, then. I figured as much from how you look. That just leaves one question, where is Frenzy?” She mused. “In the films, you’re partnered with him.”

The mech twitched—just slightly. Not enough for most to notice. But she did.

“He’s en route,” Barricade admitted. “Should arrive in a few months.”

Barricade flinched when Alya let out a jaw-cracking yawn. Then he stared in visible horror as she cracked almost every joint in her body one by one.

“The frag was that?” he muttered, clearly disturbed.

Alya blinked at him lazily, then grinned wickedly. “Does that unsettle you?” she cooed, leaning a little closer.

“No!” he replied way too quickly, leaning away slightly.

She raised a brow. “Oh really?”

Without breaking eye contact, she twisted her head and cracked her neck. Then came the grand finale—her back popped in rapid fire.

Barricade flinched again, then promptly dismissed his holoform.

Alya snickered to myself. 

“So,” Barricade grumbled from the speakers, “do you actually have a plan?”

“I have a few goals. First, I want to prevent some of the major deaths coming up.”

“Whose?” he asked, sounding baffled.

“First movie: Jazz dies. Megatron literally rips him in half. That one I’m definitely trying to prevent. Megatron also goes offline, along with a handful of ‘Cons—not that I care, except for maybe Frenzy. I’ll see what I can do for him.”

Barricade gave a slight, approving grunt.

“You also survive.” Alya adds.

“Noted.”

“In the second movie,” She continued, “Megatron gets revived thanks to human stupidity. Optimus, Elita-1, Arcee, Chromia, Jetfire, and technically Sam—though both Sam and Prime get revived.”

Barricade let out a low vent of disbelief.

She paused, narrowing her eyes. “In the third movie… that's when the real bullshit happens. Ironhide dies, killed by that traitor Sentinel Prime—who betrays everyone. Que (Wheeljack) gets offed by you, Shockwave gets slaughtered by Optimus, Sentinel gets tag-teamed by Optimus and Megatron—then Optimus finishes then both off. Soundwave dies thanks to Bee, and Starscream gets taken out by Sam with a boomstick to the optic.”

Barricade actually snorted at that. She grinned.

“I like Ratchet too, so the fourth movie pissed me off. Lockdown rips his spark out, and humans melt him down for scrap. Leadfoot also dies—killed by the CIA. Fuck humans man. Literally none of the original Autobots survive past that point, except for Bee and Optimus.”

“And?”

“No one important dies in the fifth movie,” She says bluntly. “Though someone thought it’d be smart to bring Cybertron to Earth, we might all die because of it. You know, throwing off our course around the sun and all that lovely shit.”

Alya took a deep breath. It was silent as Barricade took in everything she had said. “You don’t like humans,” Barricade finally said.

Alya snorted. “Not really. No one’s given me a reason to.”

“You never actually said what your plan is outside of preventing deaths,” he said after a beat.

“Oh. Right.” She shrugged. “Short version? Be in Mission City when shit goes down, shoot Megatron in the optic to prevent Jazz’s death. After that, I’ve got about two years to figure out what to do for the sequel.”

“That’s your plan?” he asked flatly. “That’s your entire plan?”

“Yup.” She popped the ‘p’.

“…That’s the stupidest plan I’ve ever heard, and I know Starscream. Do you even know how to shoot?” Barricade questioned, feeling a dawning sense of horror.

Alya gave him a smug grin. “Yep. I’m very versatile.”

Barricade groaned and settled heavily on his tires. “Great. Of course you do.”

Alya giggled and patted the dashboard affectionately. “You’ll get used to me.”

Chapter Text

“Triplets! Settle down already! Primus, how did Joanna survive this?” Alya muttered, finally getting the little chaos gremlins under control. With a sigh, she glanced in the rearview mirror—only to frown. “They’re still following us.”

They’d had a tail for over an hour now—and it wasn’t Bumblebee. It wasn’t even an Autobot or a known Decepticon. But Barricade had confirmed one thing: it was Cybertronian.

“Could it be a bounty hunter or something?” she asked, tense.

“It’s possible,” Barricade replied. “Whoever it is, they’re persistent. I doubt they’ll give up even if we shake them now.”

Alya hummed thoughtfully. “Deal with it somewhere secluded?”

He grunted in agreement and veered toward the forest.

“You and the sparklings need to hide. I don’t want you four underfoot,” Barricade ordered.

“Yeah, yeah,” she waved him off.

As Barricade skidded to a stop and his door swung open, Alya leapt out with the triplets in her arms. Regaining her footing quickly, she bolted toward the trees. Her eyes scanned the forest until she spotted a large tree with a hollowed base.

She approached it, ignoring the distinct clangs of metal transformation behind her.

“Anything inside?” she asked Havoc.

He whirled a negative. Good enough.

“Get inside and don’t come out until I say so,” she ordered, lowering them into the hollow. Only three months with Barricade, and they were already in deep slag. She dropped her bag, pulled out her pistols—and noticed a note scribbled on them:

Modified for humans and Cybertronians – Primus.

“At least you’re good for something,” she muttered.

[Somewhere across the stars, Primus grumbled: A little appreciation wouldn’t hurt.]

Crouching behind a nearby tree, she crept toward the sounds of the scuffle. A loud crack rang out as a bullet splintered the bark beside her. She dove into the underbrush, slipping around a few trees until she had a clean line of sight on the intruder’s spark.

Her gun morphed into a sniper. She ignored the change—just aimed and fired.

BANG.

The mech dropped like a rock.

Barricade froze mid-move, shocked.

“FUCK ME!” Alya yelped. “I didn’t know it could do that! What the actual slag, Primus?”

Barricade’s optics snapped to her. “You were supposed to be hiding with the sparklings!” he growled.

“And you were supposed to stay alive! So we’re even.” she shot back.

She returned to the hiding spot and called, “Bitlets!” The triplets scampered out and tackled her, whirring and chirping in distress.

“I’m fine, I promise,” she murmured, hugging them close. “But Cade needs repairs.”

“We don’t have a medic.” he muttered, venting heavily.

“But you’ve got a mechanic. Lie down and tell me what I can do.” She stared up at him stubbornly.

Barricade hesitated, then vented in resignation and laid flat. Alya climbed into his open chest cavity, toolbox in hand. His spark chamber was partially exposed, damaged where the enemy had struck. She edged closer.

It would’ve been fine. Probably. Until Barricade shuddered—

And she slipped.

Her hand hit his spark.

It felt like grabbing a live wire. Electricity surged into her, through her—wrapping around every nerve. Fire raced through her veins. Her arm froze in place as energy crawled up her body, enveloping her in glowing blue light.

Something inside shifted, making room for… something more.

Then—suddenly—it stopped. The light vanished. The current faded. She collapsed, everything drained from her.

She barely registered falling before a large servo caught her mid-collapse, pulling her gently against the metal frame beneath her.

There was pressure in her chest.

The first thing she registered was frantic, low-pitched cursing. The second—a powerful feeling rumbling through her, vibrating down to her bones.

She gasped, sitting up suddenly.

Digits tightened protectively around her waist. She blinked and looked down.

Barricade.

She gently touched the servo holding her. “Barricade? What happened? Are you—?”

A flood of emotions crashed over her—fear, guilt, protectiveness—not hers.

She gasped. “Was that—was that from you?”

“We bonded.” Barricade rumbled quietly.

“…We what?” Alya gaped.

“Spark-bonded.” he clarified.

“But—I don’t even have a spark.” Alya stated.

“Apparently,” he murmured, “one doesn’t need to possess a spark to bond with one who does.”

This was permanent.

Alya reached out through the bond, quietly asking Barricade to show her what had happened.

Without hesitation, his mental shields opened, and the memory poured in—like watching events unfold through someone else’s eyes.

She saw herself collapsing, Barricade lunging forward to catch her before she hit the ground.

Then it happened—an ear-splitting, raw, almost inhuman scream tore from her throat. Blue, glowing veins crawled up her arm, spreading fast through her body until she was radiating pure AllSpark energy.

Barricade didn’t know why, but something deep in his spark pushed him to move her closer to the fallen Cybertronian’s body. He acted without thinking.

The glow intensified, the air thrumming with a deep, resonant pulse that—he would later realize—wasn’t just sound, but a song.

Every instinct warned him something big was coming. He scooped up the sparklings and threw himself over them, plating flaring wide to shield their small forms.

Then came the blast—an eruption of light, AllSpark energy sweeping outward in a wave. It crashed over him, burning through his systems, repairing the damage he’d sustained.

When he finally looked back, the Cybertronian’s body was partially stripped, chunks of armor gone—consumed, or perhaps repurposed. And Alya…

She was no longer entirely human. Metal gleamed where skin should have been, circuits and silver plating woven over bone and muscle.

She looked Cybertronian.

But just as quickly, the transformation folded inward, the plating vanishing beneath skin, until she was “human” again—lying unconscious on the ground.

Barricade pulled back from the memory, quietly withdrawing from the bond.

The shard pulsed faintly against her chest, almost smug. Alya glared down at it.

Then—just to make her day worse—a voice echoed in her head. Primus help me… sigh… You’re a techno-organic now, with an extended lifespan. You’re spark-bonded with a Decepticon, AND you’ve somehow picked up a creator bond with the sparklings. The voice carried a feminine edge.

WHAT the actual frag?! Alya snarled in her mind. Who the hell are you, and why the slag are you in my head?! Get out, NOW.

Another voice—male, calm, annoyingly composed—answered, We are the Primes.

A third voice joined in, calm and patient. We assume the AllSpark shard in your chest created the bond.

Primus above— Alya mentally groaned. Why me?

Because, A fourth voice replied cheerfully, you are now a Prime yourself.

I’m not dealing with this right now. Nope. Filing it under “future problems.” Alya shoved their presences to the back of her mind and glanced at Barricade.

‘Cade, can you let me down?’ she asked through their bond. He gave her a quick look before lowering his servo.

“Thanks.” Alya barely had a second before three tiny bodies barreled into her. She soothed the Bitlets through the bond, stroking their heads.

“So,” she asked once the Bitlets calmed down, “outside of being a Decepticon, what exactly did you do to get a bounty?”

“Punched a Senator.” he replied.

Alya blinked, then grinned. “Seriously? You have a bounty because you punched a Senator? Slag it, I really wanna do that.”

“They’re still around?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Unfortunately, yes,” he said, kneeling. “They just went into hiding after Megatron killed one of them.”

“Cowards,” she scoffed. “Bunch of—” She caught herself, remembering the Bitlets were listening.

“Are you…okay?” Barricade asked carefully.

Primus bless this mech.

“I’m fine. The bond wouldn’t have worked if we didn’t have some kind of feelings for each other.” Alya flexed her fingers. “I also got a message. I’m Cyberforming—turning into a techno-organic.”

Barricade froze. “A techno-organic? There hasn’t been one since—”

“Amalgamous Prime disappeared. Yeah. But I guess the AllSpark didn’t want me dead, so here we are.” Alya shrugged.

“What are you going to do about the body?” she asked, gesturing toward the fallen mech.

“Scavenge it. We need the parts. And the Energon—while the little ones are doing fine with just electricity for now—they do need Energon eventually.” Barricade said.

“Know anywhere we can find more?” she asked.

“No,” he vented. “But I can make do.”

“You could hack into some human satellites, maybe they’ve stumbled onto deposits?” she suggested.

He stared for a beat before muttering an impressive string of Cybertronian curses. Alya couldn’t help but to laugh.

Chapter Text

“There’s a warehouse full of Energon out in the mountains,” Barricade said. “It’s isolated—turns out the liquidized version is toxic and acidic to humans. Will you be alright taking care of the Little Sparks?”

Alya rolled her eyes. “We’ll be fine. It’s you who should be careful.”

With the triplets in her arms, she slid out of Barricade’s passenger seat and headed into the motel to get a room. Barricade watched her cross to the reception desk before activating his holoform and leaving. She’d be fine—she was cautious, and downright possessive. She’d die before letting harm come to the Triplets or the shard.

Primus, it had been a surprise to learn just how possessive she was. During one of their earlier stops, she’d caught a human man trying to lure the little femme away. Alya had gone ballistic, and if Barricade’s holoform hadn’t physically held her back, the man might not have survived. Even then, she’d threatened to finish the job if he tried again. It had been an amusing sight… and mildly terrifying. Before that, Barricade had assumed she was calm, quiet, hard to anger. And she was—until someone threatened what she considered hers. Then she had zero remorse in stabbing a glitch.

Wasn’t there an Earth saying? ‘Be wary of the quiet ones.’ She was definitely one of them.

Barricade turned down the nearly hidden path toward the warehouse. He’d best hurry—he didn’t want to keep his charges waiting.

It had been two weeks since they’d separated from Barricade. The triplets were growing fast—already about three foot four, roughly the height of a human four-year-old. Alya suspected they were developing faster than normal.

The rumble of an engine drew her attention, and she peeked outside to see Barricade pulling up. Relief washed over her—he was back safe.

“All right, bitlets, Barricade’s here.” she told them with a grin.

Once they were loaded up, Alya swept the motel room one last time before locking it and handing the key to the receptionist with a polite smile. Barricade’s passenger door swung open, and she slid in, buckling up once the triplets were settled in the back.

“Stocked up?” she asked.

“Yes. It should last a few months—only myself and the Little Sparks require it, and they don’t take much.” Barricade rumbled.

“That’s good.” she said with a small smile, relieved that feeding the sparklings wouldn’t be a worry for a while.

“No trouble?” he asked.

“None. The bitlets got a little rowdy, but nothing too bad.”

“Good.”

Barricade grinned as he watched the triplets gulp down their first cups of Energon. Their optics, dull before, now glowed brightly as fresh energon rushed through their systems.

“Good?” he asked.

The bitlets chirped happily in response.

“That’s good—they won’t have to rely on electricity for a while,” Alya said. Then she paused, frowning. “Cade, is it just me or are they growing a little fast?”

“That’s normal for those sparked by the AllSpark,” he replied. “When were they sparked?”

“Around 10 months ago.” 

Barricade choked. “What?!”

“Whoa! What’s your malfunction?!” she shot back.

“...They’re around a Youngling frame.” he said finally. “They're growing at a faster rate than most Sparklings.”

“Maybe it's because all the information downloading they get is through the Internet? Don't Cybertronians downloaded everything as sparklings?” Alya inquired.

“Yes, normally it would take at least a century in human terms to do it on Cybertron.” Barricade grunted.

A small voice interrupted them. “Sing? Mami, sing?”

Alya blinked down at Blaze, caught off guard. “I’m not a very good singer,” she warned.

“Please?” Blaze asked, wide optics full of innocence.

Alya sighed in surrender. “All right, here goes.” She closed her eyes and sang softly.

♪ I've been hearing symphonies

Before, all I heard was silence… ♪

♪ Now your song is on repeat

And I’m dancin’ on to your heartbeat

And when you're gone, I feel incomplete…

So if you want the truth

I just wanna be part of your symphony… ♪

She let the last note fade and glanced down, smiling faintly—every one of the bitlets had fallen asleep.

“I’ve never heard that one before.” Barricade rumbled quietly.

“Course not—it wasn’t released until 2017.” Alya replied with a hum, sipping her drink.

It took Barricade a moment to wrap his processor around what that implied before he spoke up again,  “You’re from the future?”

Alya grinned, “2025, actually. Born in 2004, but it’s 1981 here.”

“Oh? And what happens?”

She gave a sharp grin. “Oh, you know. Global pandemics, mass inflation, riots, mass shootings, riots, wildfires, suicides—Gen Z’s a whole circus of trauma. I’ve literally watched kids younger than me body-check cops and hurl tear gas canisters back at them.”

Barricade decided then and there it was best not to piss her off. Giant compared to her or not, he had no doubt she’d find a way to get at him.

Chapter Text

It had been 11 months since they joined Barricade, now the year was 2003, and Frenzy was due to arrive soon.

“I’ve gotten a transmission,” Barricade announced. “Frenzy will be here within the next few days.”

“So what are you going to do?” Alya asked.

“Er… just introduce you? Maybe as the Carrier of the sparklings.”

“I am the Caretaker of the sparklings,” she said flatly. For someone who was supposed to be a big, bad, terrifying Decepticon, Barricade seemed to be remarkably bad at planning.

“We’ll say they were far too small for me to care for, so I kidnapped a human to help raise them,” he decided.

“A human that hasn’t run screaming?” she arched a brow.

“I’ll think of something,” he grumbled.

He didn’t get a chance to elaborate. The moment Frenzy arrived, he lunged at her without warning. Barricade moved instantly, stepping between them with a sharp growl. Frenzy froze mid-lunge, his claws retracting halfway as his optics flicked from Barricade to Alya.

“What the frag, Barricade?! You gone soft? That a pet you’re guarding?”

“Pet!?” Alya snapped, offended at the word. “I’m nobody’s pet.”

Barricade gave a low, amused snort but didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned to Frenzy, his optics dimming. The two Decepticons shared a silent, instant communication—a wordless exchange that sent Frenzy freezing in place mid-motion.

When their optics lit up again, Frenzy leaned sideways to glance at her. “Huh. She doesn’t look like much.”

Alya tilted her head, her expression unimpressed. “Neither do you.”

Frenzy’s field spiked in irritation, but Barricade’s growl kept him from taking another step.

From the corner of the room, one of the Triplets chirped curiously, padding forward on unsteady feet to hide behind Alya.

Alya shifted subtly, her body angling to shield the youngling. Her gaze locked on Frenzy, something about it made the mech’s plating twitch, as if this human could see straight into his spark.

“Human Caretaker?” Frenzy questioned.

“Carrier.” Alya corrected. “Im their Mother. Name's Alya Smith.”

“Angel.” The cassette decided with a nod, that seemed to settle the con and that was that.

Alya decided to keep her origins from another universe a secret. Soundwave’s loyalty to Megatron was too absolute; anything told to Frenzy would inevitably make its way back to Soundwave—and from there, to Megatron.

She informed Barricade of her decision, and he agreed not to say anything. Alya suspected Frenzy knew they were withholding something from him, but he made no fuss about it.

A year later, after an exhausting eighteen-month pregnancy, Alya gave birth to twin boys, Thunder-Volt and Viper-Fang. The twins were mostly Cybertronian in form, with a yellow-and-black color scheme, and shortly after their birth Alya transitioned into her full cyber-form. The twins, like their older siblings, grew rapidly—likely a result of her Allspark connection. By now, the Triplets looked the equivalent of thirteen human years old.

Frenzy, surprisingly, had taken on a “mother hen” role, channeling all of his separation anxiety into helping Alya care for the sparklings. Barricade handled combat training, while Alya oversaw their education with Frenzy’s assistance. Another year passed peacefully, with no threats against them.

As the first major “movie” approached, Alya began mapping out each film’s events and creating contingency plans—some inspired by fanfictions she’d once read. Then, unexpectedly, she went into premature labor three months early and gave birth to a femmling. The tiny sparkling survived, and Alya named her Vita Nuova—Nova for short.

After Nova’s birth, life continued quietly. Alya trained in her cyber-form in preparation for the inevitable war. Barricade was going to remain neutral unless the Autobots proved themselves, and she was content with that. 

By then, the Triplets were basically adult frames, the twins were Younglings, and Nova was still their prescious sparkling. Alya helped the Triplets with their alt-modes, even assisting them in installing holomatter avatars. Zephyra, five foot three, had blonde hair fading to lilac and teal tips, worn in a ponytail, with hazel eyes. Havoc stood at five foot six, with crimson hair and mischievous dark brown eyes. Blaze, the tallest at five foot ten, chose raven-black hair and vivid emerald eyes, making him striking in appearance. Havoc, Alya suspected, would be the playboy of the group.

The twins, fraternal in appearance, bore similarities to their older siblings—Eli with black hair and golden eyes, Viper with deep blonde hair and matching golden eyes. Zephyra’s alt-modes were an XB-70 Valkyrie and a Devel Sixteen, the latter of which Alya had modeled herself seeing as it hadn't been made in this timeline. Havoc chose an SR-71 Blackbird, and Blaze a Ferrari. Watching them grow brought tears to Alya’s eyes, much to Barricade’s amusement—he called her a sap. Frenzy, however, thought it was endearing, earning himself a hug and a kiss on the cheek from Alya, followed by her declaration that he was her new favorite. Barricade sulked for the next three joors.

“Be careful, Angel. We won’t be here to protect you or the kids if something happens.” Barricade warned her.

She sighed, kissing his holoform’s cheek. “We’ll be fine. We have enough energon to last a year and a half, I have money saved, and you’ll only be gone for a while. We’ll be fine.”

Barricade grunted, pulling her into a hug and kissing her. His scowl deepened when their elderly landlady cooed at the sight. “I’ll be in touch,” he said, moving to the driver’s seat. Nova whined at his departure, and Viper patted his sister’s head in comfort, though Alya could tell he’d miss him too.

The mother and her six sparklings explored the house they would be calling home for the next ten months. The Triplets immediately claimed their rooms, and Alya helped the twins set up theirs before turning to “cooking.” While the children could subsist entirely on energon, Alya enjoyed human food and had passed that taste on to them.

She spent quality time with the kids, taking them to arcades, out for lunch, and to the movies. She even risked a trip to the Hoover Dam. Though she liked to travel, it was a relief to settle in without fear of rogue Cybertronians or Sector Seven.

Mission City was only twenty-two miles north of Hoover Dam, but a good 318 miles from Sam Witwicky’s home—safe enough for now. Alya opened a small bakery as both a hobby and a job, using a fake identity Barricade had arranged. When the sparklings asked to be enrolled in school, she agreed. She even began experimenting with energon-based treats to help the Triplets blend in better.

One afternoon, as she pulled up to the high school, Alya spotted the Triplets talking with Sam, Sam was currently bragging about an A-. Her stomach tightened—events were starting to unfold. She honked the horn, and the Triplets waved goodbye to Sam before climbing into the vehicle.

“How was school?” she asked.

“Fine.” “Boring.” “Interesting,” they answered in unison.

She chuckled before sobering. “Be prepared—it starts tonight.”

The Triplets nodded somberly.

“If there’s ever a fight,” Alya continued, “the twins stay with Nova. You three watch each other’s backs. Understood?”

“Yes Carrier.” they replied.

Chapter Text

As soon as Bumblebee started chasing Sam, Alya commed Barricade. ~Remember the plan.~ she stressed.

~I got it.~ came his grumbled reply. She huffed, rolling her eyes before, heading for the alleyway.

While she waited, Barricade commed again. ~I did as asked. Happy?~ 

The plan was simple—Barricade would make contact with Bumblebee and inform him of his new alliances. ~Good Job.~ She said simply.

Alya was perched at the top of a building that made the alleyway, watching for the bots. Her plan was to drop down right in the middle of Ironhide’s cannon fixation. From her vantage point, she spotted Sam, Bumblebee, and Mikaela—plus two unexpected extra passengers. She sighed in exasperation.

Then the Autobots arrived, transforming in a way that looked even cooler than the movies. She was seated right above Jazz, who somehow hadn’t noticed her. You’re a spy, goddamn it! she thought at him.

She ignored most of their conversation until Optimus introduced Ironhide. “You feelin’ lucky, punk?” Ironhide smirked, pointing what looked like two—no, sixty—cannons at the teens.

“I take offense to that,” Alya snorted. The Autobots turned toward the sound just as she jumped from the roof, before landing hard enough to crack the cement.

Ironhide instantly trained his guns on her. Sam, on the other hand, was gawking.

“MA!” the twins shouted, running to her legs. She bent down to ruffle their hair, earning twin squawks of protest before looking up at Optimus.

“Let's get this straight—you need a pair of glasses with alien writing that Sam just so happens to have, and getting them will save Earth from annihilation?” The Autobots nodded. “And it’s Sam we’re talking about here? A teenage boy who just happens to have them?” Another round of nods.

“We’re gonna die,” Viper groaned, earning an indignant “Hey!” from Sam.

“Like my twin said—if it’s Sam, this will kill us all!” Volt added.

Ratchet seemed to be studying them intently, “You and the young ones have Cybertronian auras.” He stated.

The twins looked at her questioningly, but she just shrugged. Dropping their holomatter disguises, they revealed themselves. The Autobots stared in shock and awe.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Viper-fang—”

“And I’m Thunder-volt.”

“We’re twins.”

“We have—”

“Four other—”

“Siblings! Two are—”

“Femmes and the other two are—”

“Mechs. That’s our Carrier—”

“Who is an—”

“Techno-organic,” Alya interrupted.

“Mom!” they whined.

“My name’s Alya Smith.” She introduced herself.

Ratchet scanned the twins. “I haven’t seen Younglings in eons. They’re remarkably healthy.”

“Of course. They’ve had energon,” Alya replied.

This was taking too long.

“Wait, you guys are aliens?!” Sam blurted.

“Cybertronians,” the twins corrected in unison.

“Surprise,” Alya said, jazz-handing. “Now let’s focus on potentially saving the world? Get a move on!”

The Autobots transformed and drove off. Alya turned to the twins. “Get home safely and, whatever you do, stay alive.” Then she transformed herself and took position near the bridge.

Alya sped forward, slamming into Bumblebee to knock him aside before catching the teens and rolling to a stop.

“Stop! Stop! Wait! No!” Sam yelled as a helicopter fired a harpoon that wrapped around her wrist.

“No!” Sam shouted again as another harpoon caught her other arm. A third wrapped around her foot, tripping her.

“Stop!” Sam yelled desperately as Sector Seven agents swarmed, pushing the kids to the ground and cuffing them.

“Look, she’s not fighting back!” he pleaded.

But the agents were already spraying her with liquid nitrogen. The freezing metal made her warm frame shrink painfully, and Alya let out a guttural, inhuman scream. 

Somewhere in the depths of her memory, she recalled the slow agony of a past life—pinned down, limbs ripped away one by one while her spark still pulsed, her voice too raw to even scream. Another life brought flashes of steel hooks, burning restraints, and days of calculated torture meant to break her mind as much as her body. She had survived all of it. She had endured worse than this.

She quickly shut off her pain receptors, blocking it all out—even when Barricade pushed through their bond in a surge of inquiry, worry, and anger.

Alya lay on the cold metal table as the scientists doused her frame with liquid nitrogen, the icy burn creeping into every joint. Occasionally, surges of electricity tore through her systems, making her plating twitch involuntarily. Even with her pain receptors dampened, the assault bit deep—yet she refused to give them the satisfaction of a reaction. She had endured far worse in other lives, compared to those memories, this was almost trivial.

“Alya!” a voice shouted, cutting through the haze. “Stop!”

“Let her go!” a female voice followed, punctuated by the sharp clatter of shell casings hitting the floor.

“Alya! You okay?” the first voice called again.

She forced her optics online, their glow faint, and turned her head toward the source. Sam was standing there, tense and breathing hard.

“Samuel,” she rasped, her voice rough from strain. “Are you injured?”

Alya pushed herself upright, hydraulics hissing, and leaned forward to shield the two humans. Her servo came down in a protective curve around Sam and Mikaela, blocking them from view of the other humans. With deliberate care, she lifted them against her chassis, holding them close to the armored plates over her spark.

“Did they harm you?” she asked, lifting them to her face. Her optics swept over them in a quick, meticulous scan, searching for any sign of injury.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s okay—you’re safe now. Alright?” Sam said quickly, his voice carrying a note of reassurance that almost made it sound like he thought she was the one in need of calming.

Alya’s tense posture eased just slightly. With deliberate care, she lowered the teens back to the ground, setting them down near the cluster of soldiers.

“We need to hurry,” Sam urged, already glancing toward the far end of the hangar. “The AllSpark is here, and Megatron is in the next hangar.”

They directed Alya toward the cube. Her optics widened in awe as she slowly approached. Slowly she reached out to touch its surface, a flash rippling through the entire structure.

“Ah, okay, here we go. She’s doing something—she’s doing something,” Epps muttered as the Cube began to shrink in size.

When it had shrunk to the size of her servo, Alya flinched as a sudden jolt surged through her. A flood of emotions—PEACE-GRATITUDE-HOPE-QUESTION—washed over her in an overwhelming wave.

In that moment, she understood… but not enough to form the comprehension into words. At most, she had an instinctive sense of what the cube was trying to communicate.

It was asking her something.

Peace.

Acceptance. — Accept what is being offered.

And now: Question. — Will you?

Yes. Alya thought fiercely. 

“We need to leave,” Alya said, shaking off the dazed feeling.

“She’s right,” Will agreed. “If we stay here, we’re screwed with Megatron in the other hangar. Mission City is twenty-two miles away. We’re going to sneak that cube out of here and hide it somewhere in the city.”

“The Autobots will meet us on the way there,” Alya interjected. “We’re going to need all the help we can get.”

“Good! Right,” Keller said, pointing toward Will.

“But we cannot make a stand without the Air Force,” Will added, unwilling to budge on the point.

Alya gave a sharp nod. “He’s right. Most Autobots are vehicle-based—ground combat types. The Decepticons are mostly jets and choppers, airborne fighters. The Air Force will be crucial.”

Keller turned to Simmons. “This place must have some kind of radio link!”

“Yes!” Simmons replied.

“Shortwave, CB!”

“Right! Yes!”

“Sir, you’ve got to figure out some way to get the word out to them,” Will pressed before climbing into a jeep. “Let’s move!”

Soldiers scrambled to their vehicles, engines roaring to life. Sam and Mikaela climbed into Alya’s alt mode, and she sped down the tunnel with the convoy close behind. The tense minutes in the dark passage ended as they burst into daylight—just in time to see the familiar forms of the Autobots coming around the corner.

Optimus honked his horn as they passed before sharply turning to join the formation. The soldiers watched in awe as the rest of the Autobots fell into line, each human-occupied vehicle bracketed by Autobot protection front and back.

Everyone braced themselves. The battle was coming.

Alya knew only a few things with absolute certainty:

She would not let the soldiers die.

She would not let her family die.

She would not let the Autobots die.

And she would die making sure that didn’t happen.

Chapter Text

The city was finally in sight, and relief rippled through the convoy—at least they were close.

Barricade’s voice crackled through Alya’s comms, his tone a low growl.

~Are you injured?~

~I am alright—~ she began, only for him to cut her off.

~Why did you cut off the bond? What happened? Why were you in pain?~ he demanded.

~Barricade, fall back so you don’t get caught in the crossfire.~ She ordered. ~We will have time to discuss this later.~

She cut the commlink abruptly, already sensing the Decepticons behind them. Ironhide and Ratchet were covering Optimus while also protecting the jeeps.

Optimus slammed on his brakes, forcing Bonecrusher to transform mid-charge, sliding toward them on the wheels in his feet. The hulking Decepticon growled, optics locking on the convoy of humans and Autobots.

Optimus transformed, sliding across the paved road, using his left hand to brace himself as he got balance. He got to his feet and jumped a little, hunching down to slow down his speed. 

Bonecrusher roared and lunged. Optimus drew his blaster and fired at the Decepticons, forcing them to swerve and crash—buying precious seconds for the others to escape. But the shot left him exposed. Bonecrusher seized the moment, lunging and wrapping his arms around Optimus, driving him to the ground. The two mechs rolled violently before tumbling off the bridge.

They finally reached the empty streets of the city. Alya transformed, allowing Sam and Mikaela to step out, Sam clutching the Allspark tightly as the soldiers scanned their surroundings.

Yesterday, she had ordered Havoc and Zephyra to send an emergency evacuation alert to all civilian devices in the city. To the others, the eerie emptiness of what should have been a bustling urban center was unsettling.

“Where are all the people?” a soldier murmured.

“Maybe they were evacuated.”

“So quickly?”

“I don’t know, man.”

Alya’s optics swept the skies like a hawk while Will began directing his team. “Come on, let’s go,” he ordered. Spotting the mounted weapons on the jeeps, he gestured sharply. “Mount up!”

As the soldiers moved, Will grabbed several shortwave radios from a seat and handed them to Epps.

Epps blinked at them. “Wait, what am I supposed to do with these?”

“Well, use them! It’s all we got!” Will replied, exasperated.

“This is like RadioShack dinosaur tech. I’ll be lucky to get thirty miles out of these,” Epps muttered, fiddling with the knobs before raising it to his mouth. “Any aircraft orbiting the city?”

The distant hum of a jet drew every gaze skyward, spotting a single jet flying overhead.

“Don’t say anything! That F-22 is one of the enemies!” Alya snapped, stopping Epps from pulling a flare pin. 

Epps froze, understanding dawning. An F-22 pilot would never weave through buildings. That thing was not friendly.

“It’s Starscream!” Alya warned.

Jazz’s visor zoomed in, confirming the Decepticon before he shouted, “Missiles incoming!”

Ironhide and Bumblebee transformed, Ironhide waving the humans toward cover. “Back up! Take cover!”

Soldiers scrambled into buildings for cover. “Move back! Take cover,” Ratchet yelled, moving out of the way.

“No, no, no, no! Move!” Will yelled.

“Back up! Back up!” Ironhide roared. Ironhide, Jazz, and Ratchet used their bodies to shield the soldiers. Bumblebee was running over to Sam and Mikaela, who didn't have any cover.

“Retreat! Fall back,” Will barked. 

“Incoming!” Ironhide exclaimed.

Alya sprinted forward, deploying her energy shield. I hope this holds.

The missiles struck, the shockwave blasting her backward. Debris rained down and soldiers were knocked flat. Groaning, she rose, quickly scanning—Autobots intact, soldiers with only minor wounds. A worthy trade. One more fully functioning mech might be enough to keep Jazz alive.

“Anybody hurt? Everyone okay?” Will called out.

“Clear the area!” a soldier shouted.

Alya’s optics swept over Sam and Mikaela—bruised but safe.

“Army Black Hawk inbound to your location,” came a pilot’s voice over the radio.

“Alpha two seven three degrees, ten miles. November Victor, one point two clicks north,” Epps spoke into it.

Before they could respond, a sharp sound of gunfire tore through the street. Ironhide saw the tank bullet and fired his own shot at it, destroying it. 

Devastator was advancing, Ironhide charged at the tank-form Decepticon, with Jazz and Ratchet flanking from another street.

“Let’s go, move out!” Will barked.

“Take cover!” Alya warned the teens as she deployed her rifle, lining up a shot.

Ironhide shifted into vehicle mode, tires screeching as he sped toward the Con. Behind him, Jazz and Ratchet transformed in sync, splitting off down a side street to flank Devastator from another angle.

Devastator fired two rounds at Ironhide, who swerved hard to the left, narrowly avoiding them. However, this was followed by two more rounds being fired. With no room to dodge, Ironhide transformed, planting his hands and feet against the asphalt and launching himself upward. The next two rounds passed beneath him, spotting the third shell coming at him, Ironhide fired both cannons into the ground, the recoil blasting him higher into the sky. As gravity pulled him back down, he twisted and vaulted over the final shot, landing with a grunt before rolling smoothly back to his feet. 

Meanwhile, Jazz rounded the final corner and locked eyes on his target. Transforming mid-sprint, he vaulted onto the top of Devastator’s tank form, hands gripping the massive barrel. He yanked the barrel to the side snarling, “Come on, Decepticon punk!”

Devastator transformed angrily. Jazz kicked off a missile holder, before Devastator grabbed his leg and flung him into a building. Having a clear shot Alya fired, the shot hit Devastator hard, knocking him into a building.

Ratchet followed up with a saw, severing one of his arms, while Jazz slammed him with his shield.

Will’s barked orders, “Concentrate your fire!” Will and his men poured shots into the Decepticon, driving him back—until his gaze shifted. “Megatron,” He growled as his leader emerged from an alley.

“It's Megatron! Retreat!” Jazz yelled.

“Move!” Ratchet warned.

“Fall back!” Lennox ordered his men.

Megatron’s cannon fire hurled Jazz into the air. Alya’s optics darted toward Sam and Mikaela—exposed and cornered. She growled in frustration.

“We need air cover down here, now!” Epps shouted into the comms as debris rained.

Megatron seized Jazz and flew onto a mid-height clocktower, he shoved the Saboteur down pressing his pede down on Jazz's back, pinning him down.

“That all you got, Megatron?” Jazz spat.

Megatron narrowed his optic in irritation, “You little cretin.” He grabs Jazz's pede, holding him in the air. Jazz took the chance and shot at his opponent, he was swung around, barely being able to keep the tyrant in sight, “You want a piece of me?!” He continued shooting, shouting, “You want a piece?!”

“No, I want two!”

From her perch, Zephyra steadied her sniper sights. Now or never. Zeroing in on a glowing red optic, she pulled the trigger just as Megatron himself began pulling at the silver saboteur.

The giant grey mech let out a pained roar, dropping Jazz as he clawed at his optic.

“What’s happening?!” Will shouted.

“Sir! That tank’s getting back up!” Burke called, pointing toward Devastator.

“Oh, they just don't die,” Will breathed. Hearing the sounds of chopper blades and a roar, Will turned, looking up at a building as the familiar form of Blackout landed on the top. The Decepticons now surrounded them—front, back, and above.

“Oh, we’re so dead,” Will said grimly.

Lennox sprinted toward Sam, a flare clutched in one hand and a weapon slung across his back. “Sam! Where’s the cube?”

“It’s right here,” Sam answered, holding out his arm.

“Epps, get those Black Hawks here!” Will barked.

“Okay,” Epps replied with a nod.

“What?” Sam blurted in confusion.

“Alright, I can’t leave my guys, so take this flare. Head to that white building with statues on top,” Will pushed the flare into Sam’s open hand. “Go to the roof and signal the chopper. Get the cube into military hands while we hold them off—or a lot of people are going to die.” Will ordered.

As Sam opened his mouth to protest someone spoke up. "I'll do it." Havoc spoke up from behind Sam, startling the group.

Alya knelt to meet her son’s gaze. “Havoc.”

“I got it Commander.” Havoc said with a slight grin.

“Sam will take the cube to the tower—you guard him. Understood?” Alya said firmly.

Havoc nodded. Alya turned to Mikaela. “Can you use a gun?”

A hesitant nod.

“Then help the soldiers—eyes and chest, under the armor.”

Ironhide and Bumblebee crouched beside the teens. “Sam, we will protect you.” Ironhide promised.

“Get to the building! Move!” Alya ordered.

The teens ran.

“Decepticons—attack!” Megatron roared.

“Hit it!” Burke yelled as Devastator fired missiles.