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Long silver plaited legs sat crossed at the ankle; against a light metallic grey throne like chair. The waist was not visible do to the long protruding spears that came out of the shins and stopped right under a nicely rounded chassis. The chassy was supported by a thin waist with black stripes leading from the back and thinking out towards the hip plates. Two thin and elegant arms rested on arm rests. Long pointy fingers circled around a small bump that was grooved into the grey metallic chair for that one purpose.
The face and upper part of the chassy was hidden behind a dark vale and other metal tubes and pipes. The throne like chair was rested on a large Dias, that had fifteen or so steps leading up to it. Overall it seemed to be a horribly placed chair to sit on. Especially at the center of a large bottomless pit that surround the Dias and chair. Three explorer mechs along with two scientists and one medic 'bot trudged into the large cavern that held the spictactical of a bot on a throne.

Especially one thousands of feet from the surface of the planet called Cybertron. But the cavern leading to this one was just found twenty cycles ago, with the large amount of digging, mining and even carrying equipment it took that long to finally reach this one particular place. The scientist who originally start this expedition nearly leaped for joy at what they had found. The walls of the cavern were lined with glowing crystals that represented old cybertronian like glyphs as well as dowsing the place in a light red glow. The place eco'd with their startled and amazed intakes. The place was breath taking, until you fell upon into the dark hole and the eerie feeling of being watched

"The Lost Throne." A science bot said mesmerized, his voice pitching. his voice eccoed off the walls and seemed to disapate into the black cavern bellow the throne. "The Blackwing clan wasn't kidding when they said they knew where it laid."

"Which means they really are a descended from this accursed place." Someone accused

"They are still Nobel berth." One of them corrected the accuser with a snip.

"Which they have been saying since forever." Another put in their two credits.

"Council can't deny them now." The conversation on a demanding royal family life quickly ended as the scientists looked around for any clue to really tie said family to this throne. The metal walls riddled with glyphs of old and new towered over them giving the place a rather tall look to it. One scientist cleared his intakes against a part of a noth bound wall to flush away any dust away from the glyphs there. He touched them gently in awe before turning to his fellow minds.

"These glyphs are old. Hey Flashstar, can you translate these?"

"Some of it. The newer ones I can the old I can guess. These glyphs are some what repeating, which means..."

"Who ever kept coming down here..." Someone started.

"Kept rewriting in updated forms." Another chimed in.

"Which isn't good." the two muttered together, looking at each other in horror.

"Or it is..." Every bot looked at the optimistic one, who only shrunk back feeling stupid. They hummed waiting on the translation. They hoped for good news, this place made their plating ruffle in warning. One shivered feeling like he was being watched and turned to look around slightly only to see the frame siting there still and cold like the world around it. The feeling intensified as soon as his optic landed on the frame and he shifted back in fright.

"It's not." The one named Flashstar said. "It's a warning."

"Warning?" The ward echoed around the cavern with unease.

"Yeah, [Alive as you...]" the mech blanched as he stopped his translating.


 "[Alive as you but without breath, As cold in my life as in my death. It comes with touch and ends with hate, you cant escape the reapers gaze]." He translated fully in a freighted breath.


"Ain't that foreboding." Someone muttered as he shivered. The others nodded looking up the wall.

"It says something about serving...but the glyphs are too old after that. And its all garbled nonsense" Flashstar sighed in nervousness. This place was eerie, leaving chills on his playing and his spark pulsing like had just ran a marathon.

"It's headless." Everyone turned towards a light blue mech with red racing stripes. He was standing before the steps looking up at the decapitated silver frame. "It's a seeker too." he hummed surprised

"Impossible. The frame has to be old as the room." Flahstar scoffed unable to believe such a thing. with how the glyphs were formed for the old style to new this frame couldn't be seeker, at least not that slick looking. "its far too slick to be old, they used to built more boxy...and bid, for the engines for flight."

"Perhaps they swap the bodies out?" The red striped out put forth thinking on how this frame could have been placed here.


"Think about it. They are the leaders of the Blackwing clan right? So why not update the leader each time he or she does." Several bots nodded. "Mind you, that would also mean they haven't swapped one out in.... 300 vrons by the look of the frames built. Way to old...and way to long of a time to place out a leaders frame. Maybe this one is special?" He ventured out loud.

"No, it's an old frame...very old." Flashstar said with a shake of his helm.

"Really?" he asked looking at his fellow scientist as they made their way to him.

"See how it's shaped... Slightly blocky." Flashstar pointed out, tracing the frame mid air to prove his point. "Like the originals." He flopped his hand down and scrunched his faceplate in thought. "But...why put warnings out for a decapitated frame?" he asked himself quietly.

"Quiet the feet it lasted here then." The red striped out said surprised and chilled at the thought at how well the frame was preserved down there.

"Conditions here are perfect for preservation." The medic stated out loud answering his silent question.

"All the better we take a look."

"No! The warning was clear. They would put such things here of they weren't true." Flashstar screeched panicking for some reason he could place.


"We aren't taking anything." One said


"So we will be fine" Anther stated.

"I refuse! We don't know who it is! That's desiccation to the frame. We are above that." Flahstart hissed.

"I'm not saying to touch it, just look." There was a silent pause.

"Fine." They all bustle up the stares taking in the frame.

"Flight built...but not fully seeker."

"Beginnings of them then."

"It's...a prime?" One muttered astonished seeing the carved glyph on the center of the chasy. It somewhat looked like the ancient prime symbol for Cybertron, but it had a few extra lines. Everyone leaned in close to inspect awed at what they found. Unknown to anyone one bot did slightly brush against the thigh of the frame. The crystals flared to a bright white before dropping into a dull blue.

"Wha!?" They exclaimed startled and slightly blinded. Then they heard it, a voice; chilly and demanding as it eco'd around the large cavern that used to be a large room way back in the day. The words where old but rhythmic and passed over the place like an ocean wave on a sandy beach.
The mech who had skimmed his hand over the beheaded frames leg groaned before collapsing to his knees and holding his head. His keened in pain letting out several statically hissed as the voice for louder before failing away. He lowered his helm to the dirt covered as his vents worked hard to cool his frame.

"Hey?" Flashstart said worried and feaked out at the same time.

"I'm alright...I wasn't expecting that." They all made their way down the steps to their fellow bot who was still curled at the bottom.

"Just panicked then." Another bot nodded. Then rattling started. The headless frame twitched its right hands figures, and then a leg shifted. The frame rattled once more, looking like it was having a seizure and went limp.

The bots watched astonished and horrified, rooted to their positions as the frame slowly and wobbly stood on its own and proceeded down the small flight of steps. Its knees came together, trying to hold the frame up after not being used in many millenniums. Its arms hung loosely by its side swinging to and for with each step it took as it neared to bots.

Flishstart screamed making the other bots scream as well. Their panicked shrieks were heard by the few worrier class mechs that stood at the entrance not paying attention to the now panicked scientists. Quickly the worriers bolted into action raising their rifles and shooting at the oncoming walking frame. The frame jolted from one side to the other as the shots hit its chasse before collapsing on itself and going still.

The mechs all looked to one another before silently agreeing it was time to head out with what they found…a frame; a walking one; and a lot of unanswered questions. Unknown to all there was a slight light symbol imbedded into the mechs right hand on the one mech who managed to touch the frame originally.


Long slender arms stretched slightly from a thick white thermal blanket in the recovery unit at a local hospital. Attached to the right arm was a drip for energon that slowly nourished what appeared to be a silver sleek seeker frame. Accents of black adorned the femme frame as well as two short wings.
The wings were flared to either side of the body seemed to be pinched between the light frame and the berth; but underneath that slick frame rested a pillow to ease such stress on the wings. A loud beep sounded at the movement and the arms dropped down. A pout found its way onto the plumped silverish-red lip plates on an equally smooth face plate. Bright blue optics blinked sluggishly still getting out of the medically induced stasis.

The head shifted around trying to get its bearing in a nearly white room. A hiss sounded as the doors to the small private room opened and a neon-green medic bot came in. He read the equipment attached to the sleek femme then nodded.

"You have integrated smoothly into your adult frame. If you feel any twitches or limbs stop working or you loose sensation in them do not hesitate to call the center. We are open ever bream of any cycle. I'll let you sit up and adjust before letting you go." He grumbled out as he inclined to the wires and drip. "As you sit and adjust a bit better, there is a mech here to see you. Council business he says." The medic scoffs as if that was going to impress him or let the mech see his patient any faster.
The medic helped the seeker sit up, making sure her wings didn't clip any of the equipment on their way up. "Flight is not recommended until after an Oran. That should give the wires and sensor nodes time to adjust in your wings." His patient nodded. One of the few quiet and listening patients the medic ever got. He felt blessed today. "Any questions?"

"May I have a femme doctor?" The neon mech quickly pulled his servos away from the silver frame. "It is not that you are incompetent." The Femee's voice was soft with a slight melodic sound. Rather hypnotic. The femme had lifted her hands in a delicate manner to express a stopping motion. The family made no expense with their sparkling. Had to be the first one, why else would they make her nearly perfect, in their optics.

"Sadly there are none on shift right now. I can bring in a nurse of you feel uncomfortable."

"I am nearly out, correct? Then there is no need." The femme clearly had intense literary class. She spoke clearly, pronounced everything syllable in her glyphs all the while sounding like a Towers mech. The medic figured his face plate showed what he thought, for the femme seemed to flush. "I sound different then most peers you treat."

"That you do." he said nodding slowly still in a bit of shock.

"My family was once as powerful as your cybertronian council." The medics optics widened at her statement. This femme wasn't even from cybertron, yet here she was, elegant and cultured far beyond what the council was.

"And they are once again." A new voice said. It was clearly a mech, his frame was blocky and he had only one color, black. He was dull and boring from his paint to his core. His tone was bland but he did bow to the femme, like one would do to a Towers bot. He placed his right hand to his left shoulder then gave a small nod. "Your creator is un-findable, your carrier isn't even on planet." he droned on as if it was a bother to him. "Therefor the council needs to speak to you." he finished as it was the last thing the council would ever want to do.

"Me?" The mech nodded. "Why would Cybertrons council wish to see me?" The femes voice quiet but demading.

"She just had her frame updated." The medic scowled at the council mech messenger, one should never take apatient out for run out in town after such a heavy upgrade. Not under his watch.

"I'll be helping her there. I have a transport waiting. She won't be walking far. The council wants to see her now." He went to grab for the femme, only to have her shrink away started by his movements.

"Do not touch my patient." The medic hissed protectively, which made the black mech shrink back.

"I am alright. Thank you." The femme said shifting off the berth. "I shouldn't let the council wait." She excepted the medics hand for help off the berth and for steadiness. Her wings flicked one then twice to take in the room, her sensor net still slightly down so she had to flick them for a third time before she was happy with the results. "Thank you once again." She inclined her head at the medic. Thanking him for the surgery and the post-op. She turned to the back to the black mech and gave a nod. "We can head out now." The mech turned starting to lead the femme out of the hospital not even bothering to see if she fallowed right away.

"Where are my manners. I am Blackout." The black painted mech stuck his servo out for a shake. The femme placed her servo on top of his with a slight smile.

"Silversong." She replied. The mech quickly understood her gesture and turned his servo to grasp her then brought it to his lip plates to leave a light kiss on the top of her servo. What an old but elegant way to greet a bot of higher status.

The trip wasn't long, the central hospital the Silversong had been in was the one the counselors used as well, for it was only a bream away from the council buildings in Iacon. The building was this tall ovalish large shape, bright as newly formed steel with the glimmer of crushed crystals. The outside was bustling with bots, trying to get by or get into the building. Several law enforcement bots moved about watching for danger. Others stood at designated spots scowling at everything, but didn't react to any tourists that snapped pictures with them.

Blackout flashed his badge, that he fished out of his subspace, to the security mech at the door who nodded then glanced at Silversong, which then he promptly ignored. The halls where covered in all scripture paintings and several statues of old primes and council members who made a difference in some way to cybertron.
Silversong had been in this building before, many times actually. Her father came here constantly, dragging her with him, to demand the council for their birth right. They stepped into a lift to the top floor then turned right. At the end of the short hallway was a gold door, it beeped before it hissed open reviling three out of the seven council members and a small science team. One council member stood and dragged a chare from one side Of the room to the table placed in the center. The table was filled some delicate energon goodies and several cubes of liquid energon. None touched yet, but also out for show on how weathly the planet was, for those where forien dignataries.

"Please sit." The councilor said as he pointed to the chair at the head of the table now. With more grace then any mech thought a femme could have , especially after a frame upgrade, Silversong sat down, crossed her peds, placed her nearly folded hands on her silver thighs and waited. There was a quiet pause of awe before one of the councilors cleared his intake.

 "These young scientist took on the challenge to go down to the depths of Cybertron and find the evidence that your family needs." He turned to the scientist letting them know they can begin. So the other one wasn't a council mech, but clearly he had credits coming in.

"Right. It was exactly where your carrier said it would be. But... it was a crypt. With only one bot...some prime we think. Or something like that....But that's not exactly important." He waved his servo around in a negative fashion to get himself on track. They pulled the images up on the hallo projector. The images showed the darkness and starkness of the crypt. "We found little evidence but your clans crest kept coming up in important eras. Mostly names, where any important old figures would be. That prime, or whatever it is, that mech itself had your crest with the prime Symbol right over it. Or close to a prime symbol."

There was a pause each scientist wondering of they should mention anything of the crazy experience they went through. "We had a strange in counter with an old cybertronain warning but everyone came out fine. Kind of, Barrowhunt is somewhat acting weird. We were wondering if you had any idea what could have happened." he nervously babbled. "It wasn't a clear warning, more like a poem... or a riddle." he tapered out with a think swallow.

Silversong didn't respond at first. Just thinking over the information they threw at her, and then anything about the place they visited. "I know my creator told you not to touch anything in there." The scientists nodded muttering how they didn't. "But the fact you experienced something means you had. My clam had always been...secretive and couscous. We never liked others butting in or finding things about us... Where is this mech?" She asked looking around.

"The room next to ours, getting looked over."

"I wish to see him. The doctor might have missed something, plus he might have gotten hurt in a place my clan lay claims to." She stood slowly heading to the door that she hasn't come through. One of the scientist stood with her and made his way over as well.

"He's shaken and tends to mumble to himself a lot. Most of it is in old cybertronain, which is weird because he doesn't know any." The science mech quickly explained as he opened the door. Behind it a blue mech sat on a berth hugging himself like some child ready to burst into tears. But the rocking back and forth put him on a more insane level. He was muttered something before glancing up at them both and then his eyes widened and he scrambled off a small berth before the medic looking over him could stop him.
The blue mech grasped his friend by the boulders stuttering sound before turning him towards Silversong. "She's his!"

"Who's?" The medic asked calmly. Obviously he dealt with mentally unstable bots of society.

"The femme we found below, she's like her...but new. But hes not there... not yet." The mech bellowed out letting his friend go and staggering to silver song and grasping her hand. Silversong stood there stuff as a board wondering if his condition was contagious. But the mech seemed to calmed down, his shaking and weird twitching stopped. Silversong glanced down at the mechs right hand wondering if he would let go but spotted a partial glyph. She raised her arm to look it over, it was clearly old, like a primes symbol but different, she wasn't even sure what era, if it was even from an era. Nothing she studied looked like this.

"What does this glyph mean?" She asked startling everyone out of the stupefied staring. Flashstar made his way over peering down at the same hand. He being the expert in old glyphs.

"That wasn't the before." He murmured nervously. Then he snapped his fingers after a bit finally realizing why the symbol was something he recognized. "It's an old glyph for servitude. Slaves would wear it to make sure they stayed with their master." He looked at the state his friend was in now. His glassy look seemed to be clearing up and he seemed to be coming aware of himself. "Slaves must have went crazy without the presence of the master."

"I touched the bots frame." The blue mech stated after a few seconds. Quickly he let go of Silversong. "I hadn't realized it till I felt the pull to stay there and serve the dead frame and then everything got fuzzy."

"But your ok now." The medic said glancing at him worried for a relapse.

"Yes. Only because a Blackwing member is standing here." He glanced at Silversong. It got quiet again as people thought over the problem that implied.

"So if I lea-?" Silversong started to say.

"Don't!" The mech quickly charged at her grasping her arms to keep her there.

"Let go!" Silversong yelled startled at the evasion of her personal spaces.

"Yes My lady." The mech said quickly letting go her go ad stepping back with a bow. Then he blinked standing strait again. "That wasn't me." He stated worried.

"Give him another command." The councilor said. "Simple one." He clarified quickly.

"Um... Get my energon cube." The meh stiffened slightly but went to do as asked, bringing it back and handing it to Silversong; who took it with some hesitation. Watching as the mech blinked then cursed slightly.

"I didn't even have any control." he said in the verge of tears.

"This is old and very powerful glyph. The bot with it on is helpless without his master but as well helpless to the master." Flahstar stated as he read from a document he accessed as this was happening.

"That hasn't been implemented since fourteen Vrons before the golden age. And even so we don't have much information of that, even the golden age didn't have anything on this." The blue mech said matter-of-factly. He looked at Silversong as she pressed the cube she was holding to his hands.

"You seem to be undercharged." She stated quietly to him while the other discussed what was going on. "My father will be bewildered. Nothing like this was ever mentioned in our history."

"But that's not all of it…the frame, that was down there, it stood and walked." Barrowhunt said. "We brought it up…its femme… we know that…but as soon as we hit main level it disintegrated into dust."

"You moved…a deceased frame?" Silversound asked horrified.

"It moved on its own…" The other science mech said producing a metal box and handing it over to Silversound. "We managed to get as much of the dust as we could." Silversound clenched her raised hands before cringing and taking the box from the bot. "One of the Primes is willing to do a ceremony for the…dust. So it wouldn't rise again."

"Thank you…I best head home." She said with uncertainty


The new lord of the Blackwing clan sat in on a comfy chair watching as the science mech and his family chatted by a small dusty window of his apartment. The family was troubled, he couldn't blame them, after all their head of the family was a slave to a high standing clan. Razorwing flicked his wings taking in the room, then glanced at his longer, his now adult daughter. She showed no emotion outward but her frame gave away her nervousness quiet easily.He let out a drag of air before sitting up straighter and made a static sound to catch the attention of the other family of bots. They quickly jump and turn towards him.

"My lord?" The mech asked as he stepped forward eager to do the bidding of the house. Lord Razorwing shook his head, he gestured for the mech to fallow him into a separate room leaving the two femmes and the youngling alone.


The room was small compared to the main living room; it was stark white with only one birth and a chair on the chair some randomized magazines of the latest framework and parts. The birth could only fit one bot on it. Its self was blue with an edge of black showing off the clans color.

"My femme state that you need to be close to her and follow her command, is this true for me as well?" He cocked his helm to the side thinking but also waiting for a reply.

"I would not know sir." The mech rang his servos together nervously. He shifted slightly then cocked his head. "We could test it sir. Just give me a command."

"Alright. Sit down in the chair." Lord Razorwing stated demanding." Then he waits for then mech to obey, who in turn just stared at him blinking in amazement that there was no pull, no push to do as he was told.

"Apparently only your daughter can." Razorwing huffed in amuzment at the statement and shook his head.

"Must run in the femme side." Razorwing hummed out flicking his wings dismissively. "Have your family rest in the guest room in back. We will be speaking tomorrow, for my mate comes home from her trip." The mech bowed and left leaving the lord all alone in the small room.

A light knock sounded signaling his offspring's wish to answer. "Go recharge." Was his order through the door to the young seeker before he was sitting on the berth with a sigh. His mate will not be pleased with Silversongs upgrade, him a seeker and she some sort of flyer he could even think the name of, each wanted their little femme to look like themselves. But with her carrier gone, he had to decide her frame type. He hope she liked it; at first he knows she won't. She'll yelled and hiss at him but eventually calm dawn and he could explain. Not only that, but the whole mess the council here brought up of servitude and dead family members coming back to life.

"Creator?" His head whipped up as he found Silversound standing in the door way watching him with a worried expression. She should be recharging as he asked of her.  "Carrier is coming home tomorrow right?" He inclined his helm wondering why she sounded so worried. "Does…does she not want me?" Silversound asked quietly as she made her way over to her creator and caretaker for most of her life.

"What!? Why would you think that?" He said standing to meet half way. He pulled his arms up and around his shaking youth and rested he cheek on the top of her helm…the engineer left out the crest on her helm…but Lord Raziorwing told himself to worry about it for another day. His sparkling, even adult frame he would call her that, needed him.

"She is never here… and when she is she never comes see me. She ignores my existence."

"You carrier is just very busy…Brightburst is a historian…things always come to here for authentication. Even when I was courting her, she would cancel dates on me for some new find." He chuckled.

"But this…new mech she was talking about…" Silversound trailed off as she felt her father tighten his hold on her.

"You heard that?"


"Wasn't completely in out of it just yet. Who is he?"

 "Hopefully a passing interest for you carrier."

"But you're bondmates." She said naively, Razorwing cringed knowing she had much to learn about seeker kind, like forming a trine.

"That we are…doesn't stop you carrier though." Silversound muttered an apology to her creator. Razorwing just hummed, he had long ago gotten used to his bondmates ways. Brightburst was always looking for something new, something to excite her. Though they were bonded only do to political and social reasons, Razorwing grew to love Brightburst, she in turn only tolerated him till she didn't need anything from him.

It was sparkbreaking to watch his little Silversound grow up without a carrier presence, but he made sure all the teachers she had for vocal and etiquette were always femme. She had turned out to become a fine young femme. Sophisticated in pallet and taste as well as bright and intelligent, Razorwing just knew she would be someone he could be proud of one day, no matter what path she would choose. He sighed once more before letting his little feme go to the berth. Tomorrow would be a long day, he felt it.



I don't own Tranformers, only use them to my will for this story.