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Chapter One: In Which Our Hero Arrives

Disclaimer: I don’t own Transformers. Hasbro does. I only play in their verse.

The seeker stood from where he had been crouching in the mid of a hall. His blue optics scanned the unfamiliar surroundings. Cautiously, he made his way down the disused hallway. With every turn he made in this deserted building, he became more and more confused. Where was he? How did he get there? The last thing he remembered was falling into recharge…

With his latest turn he found himself in what looked to be a command center, with an elevator in the middle of the room. At a loss for what to do, the seeker walked into the elevator and pressed the top-most button.

When the elevator came to a stop, the doors opened, revealing a runway, and not much else. In fact, the only other thing of any interest was the wind-whipped sea. However, he got bored of watching the sea after only a few moments and turned his attention to his long-range scanners. Within moments, he had launched himself into the air, flying towards the direction that he had sensed land.



An hour later, he had found and followed a large amount of Cybertronian life-signs. All of which led him to where he was now, sitting behind a pile of rocks, on a cliff-face, overlooking a large valley, in which, there was a battle going on. It looked like a normal battle, just like any of the hundreds of battles he had participated in over his many years, and yet the sight left a bad taste in his mouth. For one, the side in which he normally fought were the aggressors in this battle, a role that he, for one, had never seen them play. For another, he was fighting. Well, not himself, per say, as he was currently sitting on the cliff-side. No, it was a replica of him, an almost identical clone.

Both of these revelations, as well as a few more subtle ones, such as fighting style, taunts thrown between comrades and the like, all added up to a very disturbing picture. He wished it were not so. He wished he were mistaken. He wished it was a dream, a figment of his imagination. He almost wished he, or they, were insane. But he knew them not to be true. The only option the accounted for all the facts, the only option that fit, was, in fact, the option that was the most insane. He must have been sent into an alternate universe.

Peering over the rock pile, he was just in time to see this universe’s Megatron sound out the retreat. Before his double had left his sight, Starscream had made up his mind. He knew what he had to do.