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Sacrifice to a New Life

Chapter Text

Hot Rod couldn’t help the glare he sent to the guard in front of his cell. It was just his luck that he got chosen to this year’s Primus Chosen. Which was in his opinion a pretty way of calling someone a sacrificial victim without it sounding gruesome. The Primus Chosen before him was a going to be the next High Priest before he was sent out into the forbidden Forest. Hot Rod hadn’t known Orion Pax, but he hoped that he hadn’t suffered.

The Priest always warned them to stay away from the forest. Stating that demons lurked and the only way to placate them was to give them a mech or femme that was chosen by Primus himself. Hot Rod hadn’t believed it, oh he did believe in Primus, but he didn’t think that demons actually lived in the dark woods just to wait once a year for a randomly pick bot. More likely it was the Elder’s way of getting rid of unwanted mechs or femmes. Hot Rod knew that he was on the Elders hit list if only because he was related to Prowl who made every attempt to get in their way.

He thought that he would be in the clear, having made plans to run away from this place. He had everything set up too, his big brother Prowl even had one of his underworld contacts. That he somewhat trusted not to sell Hot Rod to the highest bidder, to get the younger bot somewhere safe. Then something happens, something different from last year occurred. They chose the next sacrificial victim early; it was his name drawn out. Not even Prowl’s protection could help him, not when the Village Elders used his older Prowl as a tool to make him behave. He was the tool the Elders used to punish his brother.

Prowl was locked away somewhere. The flame-colored mech knew this due to one of Prowls few friends telling him. Hot Rod knew that his brother would be plotting once he was freed, he just wished that he would be around to see it. He drew his knee up to his chest the chains rattled loudly in the silent cell. His only light was a dim moonstone and the glow of his own optics.

 He really hated his luck.

He didn’t want to be Chosen.

He didn’t want the stupid name they gave him. He happens to like his name. Rodimus just sounds far too fancy.

He didn’t know when he fell asleep, but when he was rudely woken up it was pre-dawn. Normally he would have woken warm and be fighting Prowl to let him sleep longer. Now, not even his flames could warm his cold frame. The cold water thrown at him woke him further and froze him long enough for the guards to slapped cuffs on him. Hot Rod struggled against the guards, but it was in vain as he was dragged down the dark dank hallway.

At one of the larger doors one of the femme Elders met them. She nodded once before ushering them inside. There Hot Rod was thrown into a tub and scrub within a inch of his life. His paint was stripped until he was base gray. He was run through the cleaners again before the artisans fell upon him. His flame design was repainted on him, but glyphs were added.

One for Chosen.

One for Sacrifice.

One for Prime.

Hot Rod felt like purging. He was trembling so much that the painters had to stop, or their work would be messed up. One of them, a golden mech that Hot Rod barely knew and only because his brother arrested him and his twin often, stood in front of him. Being careful of the still drying paint the young mech was pulled into a hug. For once Hot Rod didn’t know what to say, this was unexpected behavior from someone like Sunstreaker. But he wasn’t going to push the only mech who was giving him some sort of comfort.

“We’ll watch out for him,” the golden mech whispers.

And that, for some unknown reason, Hot Rod started to cry. It started out as hitching hiccups, ones he fought to silence. Those grew to louder sobs to tears falling from his optics to a spark broken wail. All through it Sunstreaker a mech who didn’t let anyone outside his twin touch him, held on to the younger mech as he cried out his grief.

Soon, far too soon, Hot Rod had to finish letting the painters paint him. None said anything about his tear stain face. Then he was alone as his paint dried leaving him to let his mind wander. It was not in a good direction with his mind already a mess. He was close to breaking down and crying again, but the tears wouldn’t fall. To his surprise his messed-up thoughts conjured Prowls stern face. Anyone outside his family wouldn’t understand but seeing his brothers image calmed him.

It was how the next set of guards found him. Instead of the crying mess, they come to associate with sacrifices they found the mech sitting calmly. This time, Hot Rod didn’t struggle se he was lifted and forced walked out into the town square. Off to the side, he could see Prowl, wings high the only thing showing how distressed he was, being forcibly restrained by the twins. Hot Rod gave them a small smile and a nod before he lost sight of them in the crowd. Standing next to the transport that was to take to his death, was the Leader of the Guard Ultra Magnus. Who was doing everything in his power not to look at Hot Rod as he read from the Ancient Scroll.

It was the same one that was used last year and the one before that and the one before that. Far as Hot Rod knew that piece of dusty rag was blank. He’s certain that it’s all scripted, the only wrench in that idea was that it was Ultra Magnus reading it. That mech was more straight lace then his brother.

“And we thank those brave sparks Chosen by Primus himself-

‘blab blab blob blob…can we get to the point where you pretend that I have a choice.’

“…we now ask the Chosen. Do you Hot Rod give yourself willingly? Do you willingly accept this responsibility?”

The flame mech pretended to think about it. In the back, he could almost feel Prowl and the twins. Some of his friends were also there waiting on his word. Normally, the sacrifice would spout that fake yes but Hot Rod wasn’t going to be accepting. He just hoped that his brother will forgive him for his attitude.

“Accept? Why the hell would I accept being forcibly killed against my will? This isn’t a choice, it’s a legal way of murdering someone that the council of Elders hates. Its easy to get rid of people who oppose them or shut people up by targeting their families!” he shouts ignoring the gasps of the crowd. “and I don’t accept this. I won’t accept some old farts hurting my brother or my friends just to continue to sit on their pedestals!”

For once, he didn’t regret his loose filter though it will cause and has caused grief to those he cares about. “And I think that they should be ashamed of themselves and step down-

“You insolent brat!” one of the Elders yells from their risen platform.

Hot Rod growls and turns to face them, “Those in power are meant to look after those under them. You all have abused not only the mechanism of this village but your own power! You keep us in fear of the unknown. And you created this myth a way to get rid of those who oppose you. I know the truth! A true Primus chosen can only be Chosen by the Matrix!”

“And the Matrix has been lost for Millennia,” Ultra Magnus added. “He speaks the truth. I have not seen any Matrix’s.”  

The gathered crowd’s mummer in agreement. They have yet to see this relic, thought what they knew of it was the Elders.

“It would seem unlikely considering the Matrix can only be found by a true Primus Chosen,” Ultra Magnus went on. “That it would be used as a way to sacrifice someone then reappear back in your hands.”

“Tha-that…it’s in his chest, that’s why you never see it!”

“if that is so then-

“You can’t have him exposing himself in public,” another shouted scandalized.

“It’s indecent!”

“I’ll show you all!” Hot Rod shouted. His hands were on his chest seam. “All you will see is my spark!”

However, before he even had the chance to open his chest plates. A winged black and white frame was in front of him shoving him down. Hot Rod landed hard as Prowl’s frame fell on him with a grunt.

“Prowl! What gives mech,” the younger mech says. He looks up and freezes. It was as if someone had muted everything and everyone as he stared up into the dim optics of his brother. “Prowl?”

The winged mech smiled a rare smile at his brother, then frowns as he fights off a cough. “Run,” he whispers.

Then the sound comes back and Hot Rod is nearly deafened by it. He can’t move as his brother lays there unmoving. Then he’s being thrown.

“Get moving!” a red blur yell at him.

“We said we take care of him. let us do our job and run!” a yellow blur shout.

“We can protect you both so run into the woods and we’ll come find you!”

“Run Hot Rod!” both echoed.

His body moves before his mind does. He runs through the chaos that the village square has erupted into.  He tries to transform only to get a shock a pain. ‘Right,’ he thinks, ‘they took out my T-cog.’ He runs, using the power he reserves for his flames into his legs. Soon he is out of the village and on the border that separates his home and the Forbidden Forests. Hot steam comes out as he pants, turning his head once to see the last of his home disappear as the sun sets. He gets the feeling that he will never see his move again. That it will be a very long time before he would see his brother again. With a heavy spark, he turns his back to his former home and with his head held high walks into the darkening woods.










Chapter Text

“THIS SUCK SLAG!!!!!” Hot Rod yells as he trips over another tree root.

He was cold, wet, and hungry and when he finds a large oil bath, he plans to stay in it for orns. To make matter worse he was lost, lost in the dark Forbidden Woods. Not even his outlier ability was any help, without having enough fuel in his frame he couldn’t make any fire to keep him warm.

“Stupid council members, slag for brains Magnus, idiotic self-sacrificing older brother who has two hot twins after his aft. Prowls too dense to even notice that they were making googly eyes at him.” he sulks, “Luckily mech, wish someone looked at me like that,” he sniffs. “I miss my brother and my bed, and and…I want to go home.”

Hot Rod leans under a tree that wasn’t as wet. The large fan leaves giving some shelter from the pouring rain. It was a miserable ending to a horrible day, and he could only hope that tomorrow will be better. Looking around Hot Rod realized that there was nowhere to sleep, at least, that wasn’t on the ground. Everything was wet and dirty and…he watched as a techomoose trots back dropping its load near a moss cover rock.

“I am not sleeping on the ground,” he says with a look of disgust.

He thought of using the fan leaves as a hammock, however. “why…grunt…do…. huff, slag it…have to be…so fragging high?” he puffs after landing on his aft. “Fine stay up there I won’t need you anyway.”

Falling backward Hot Rod stared up at the sky. He managed to find the only spot that had access to the sky, lucky lucky him…NOT.

“I am so tried.” Yawning he couldn’t keep his optics on, “maybe a quick power nap will help.” Curling up to the tree trying to shield himself from the rain, Hot Rod shutter his optics. He never noticed that extra presence hovering just on the outside of his sensors.

He watched until the red and gold mech was fast asleep before crawling out of the bushes. Red eyes scanned the slumber mech from helm to pede. Licking his lips, the being picks up his new prize throwing Hot Rod over his shoulder. His twin and caretaker should be satisfied with his find.

Hot Rod woke to being moved. Thinking that Prowl sent one of the twins to wake him he banged his fist against while plating. He blinked at the unnatural sounding hiss and the not red or gold armor. Bullying his systems to boot up faster Hot Rod saw that it was neither of the brothers carrying like a sack of old pellets. Sharp points and annoyed red optic glared back was enough for him to yelp and struggle. That, however, seemed to encourage the mech holding more.

A swat to his red aft had him stilling before hissing out curses. It only made the mech holding him chuckle and rub his aft more. Hot Rod tried to summon his flames but all that came out was a puff of smoke and his frame warming slightly.

The beast of a mech hum but nothing else. Too worn out to do anything else Hot Rod huffed and slumps. He wasn’t giving up he was planning on how to escape once he was let go. But that looked too long in coming since the mech hadn’t let him go once he woke and judging by the sun, he could see it was nearing late afternoon.

‘Just how long can this mech walk?’

Just as he thought that his world tilted around fast making him dizzy. Once he was able to see straight, he found his back against the front of the strange mech. He felt the mechs chest rumble as he purred.

“So, can we just pretend that this never happens, and you let me go?” His answer was another purred and a rope around his leg tied to a tree. “Really? Like this is going to hold me,” Hot Rod smirked. He just had to wait for the mech to turn his back and… “Are you kidding me,” he growls when the knot refused to come undone, “what is it made of; Prowls stubborn will?” like there was anything strong than that.

He turns his head when he hears snicker, optics narrow he growls back, “fragger you knew what I was planning; didn’t ya?” he grumbles under his breath several curses.

The mech chuckles coming closer and petting him, petting HIM, before leaving him alone. Hot Rod sighs and flops back in the dirt. He winches a little when his spoiler hits the dirt sending a twinge of pain.

‘how could this get any worse?’ he thought to himself. A rustle behind him had him tilting his head back and out steps the same mech except… “he is a different color what the Frag mech changing your paint and the optic color isn’t going to make you look and you’re not the same mech.”

The golden optic and white mech with a chuckle, “No but I know who you’re talking about. I am sorry about him.”

“Saying you sorry isn’t going to get me out before he comes back,” Hot Rod snaps. His was still tired and hungry and this isn’t helping his foul moon.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about him. Wing is keeping his busy.”


“our caretaker. He should be scolding him while I help you.”

“Thanks,” Hot Rod frowns. He wiggles, “Can we please get me loose before he comes back?”


Later Hot Rod stood cursing how unfair it was that it only had taken Drift one poke for the rope to unravel. Drift snickers and takes Hot Rod out of the area and to a village that he had no idea was there. A towering red and blue mech stood on the outskirts waiting for them.

“Another one?” the mech asks. He waved over another mech that had old-time medic decals. “I thought for sure that after me they would have stopped. What brought this on?”

“If you’re talking about my village is was an easy way to make my older brother do what the council wanted,” Hot Rod snaps. He almost wilts when those deep blue optics looked at him.

“I see, and what is your name young one?”

Hot Rod squirmed under the mechs gaze, “I think it is polite to tell me who you are first.” He ignores that scandalized gasp from Drift and the scowling mechs behind the tall one.

The mech surprised him instead of being offended, like certain other adults, he laughs. “Ah yes, my name is Optimus Prime. Though some may have known me as Orion Pax.”

Hot Rod jumps, “you-you’re the one who was sacrificed before me!”


“What happened to you? Everyone thought you got eaten by something and what’s with the name change or the everything change.” He waved to Optimus entire being.

“Long story, but for now I believe it is polite to introduce yourself now,” the Prime said amused.

“Hot Rod, though Magnus calls me everything under the sun next to Sides and Sunny.” The young flame-colored mech snickers.

Even Optimus grinned, “Yes my brother was a bit of a tight aft.”

Hot Rod gapped, “He’s your brother,” he shouts.

“Hard to tell huh; He took after our sire more than I did.”

“That and your…more, ehhh, more not a tight aft,” Hot Rod finished lamely.

“In any case, you are more than welcome to join our small community until you decided what you wish to do with your life,” Optimus smiles. “Just let Ratchet had a look at you and we’ll find someone you can bunk with.”

Hot Rod took a step towards the new mechs but twist to look at Drift, “What about?”

Drift smiled and it sent Hot Rod’s spoiler twitching, “I wouldn’t worry we’ll keep him from coming after ya.”

Hot Rod hears the medic, Ratchet, sigh. “is Deadlock causing trouble again?”

“Not more then he normally does, but he seemed to be interested in Hot Rod here.” Drift smiles, “I’m a little jealous.”

“huh what?”

Drift realize what he said and slowly back away, “uh forget what I said, and I’ll see later Ratchet.” Then he was gone.

“I didn’t see when he left and I staring right at him,” Hot Rod says.

Optimus chuckles, “he has a habit of doing that, but come, Hot Rod. It's best to get Ratchets check-up over before he has to chase you down.”

Hot Rod looks back at the forest, “okay is it possible for me to wait here so my brother can find me faster?”

“I don’t see what not, in fact, I am sure we can get word to your brother, so he knows where to look.”


Later that night Hot Rod found himself sharing a room with a mech named Bumblebee. He wasn’t too bad cheerful talkative and Hot Rod couldn’t find a reason to hate him. There was another mech that roomed with them, but he was out on patrol. Bee said that was a very chatty mech who was younger than him but close enough to Hot Rod’s age. The flame color mech couldn’t wait to meet him. He didn’t have that many friends outside of Sunny and Sides. After tossing and turning for half the night Hot Rod got up and climb out the window to sit on the roof. He stares up at the stars thinking over everything that had happened. Had it only been a day, it felt more like a month to him. His mind couldn’t shut down every little sound keep him awake.

He jerked when something hit his head. Blinking he looked around searching for what hit him, finding a small pebble. Looking below he tried to find the one who threw it only to get hit in the shoulder by a larger rock.

“that’s a nice aft but I rather you show it down here.”

Hot Rod shivers at the dark voice and peers over the edge of the roof and freezes. The mech known as Deadlock was standing under him smirking.

“How you find me?” he asks a little curious.

“Little Drift thought he could hide you from. I got your scent little mech and I can find you wherever you run.”

“Okay that’s a little creepy but I’ll just hop down and see what you want,” Hot Rod leaps off the roof and lands next to the gray and white mech. “Just for my curiosity what happens to your twin?”

Deadlock scowls, “he is not my twin we are more…unfortunate related by same sire and carrier. That goody goody isn’t mech enough to take what wants and always follows Wing around or Ratchet like a lost turbo puppy.”

“jealous much,” Hot Rod mutters. “Anyway, what did you want and for the record, I am not leaving here.”

Deadlock was in her personal space before he even finished his sentence. His first reaction was the back away, but a clawed hand latched onto his waist.

“Now now little mech, I came all this way.” Deadlock sniffs his neck then licks the main energon line, “Drift and Prime thinks they can keep you away from me.” Without warning Hot Rod yelps as he felt a sharp sting in his neck, “Your mine.”

Hot Rod wrenches himself out of Deadlocks grasp. “What the hell mech!”

“What’s going on here?”

Hot Rod turns to see and large red mech stomp over to them. He had seen the mech earlier today but never got his name.

“Good evening Ironhide,” Deadlock sneers.

Ironhide scowls at the red optic mech then looks at Hot Rod seeing the small line of energon. “He is messing with ya kid,” jerking his head towards the smirking mech.

“We-we were just talking, and he was just leaving,” he scowls at Deadlock.

“yeah whatever, but I’ll be back little mech,” he made to grab Hot Rod's spoiler but the mech dances away.

“No touchy.” Deadlock only laughs as he melts into the shadows.

“Creepy mech,” Hot Rot says.

“ya ain’t kidding. Let’s get ya over to Ratchet and have that look at,” Ironhide gently nudges the younger mech towards the medics little clinic.

“I-I can patch it up myself,” Hot Rod tries to head back into his own barrow home.

“Nah mech trust me. If he finds out that you got bit and didn’t come, see him have it patch it up. He’ll hunt you down and drag you back himself. This way is less painful.”

Hot Rod sighs and lets the red mech lead him to the medic’s home. They were greeted with a yelling medic and a drunk mech being thrown out said medics home. Hot Rod sends one pleading look at the red mech who was smirking before shoving him into what he considers the clinic of doom.

The next day found Hot Rod standing in front of Optimus and an unknown flyer. “I hadn’t done anything!”

Optimus tilted his head, “excuse me?”

The flyer was trying to keep his snickering in but was failing. It was then that Hot Rod saw the giant sword strapped to his back.

“I never saw a sword like that,” he said in awe.

“Anyway, Hot Rod this is Wing. He is here because of what happened last night.” Optimus glances to the younger mechs neck.

“You mean when Deadlock tried to use me like a chew toy,” the younger mech says dryly.

Wing snickers again, “I think he only did that because Drift decided to leave his mark on you.”

Hot Rod blinks, “what?” Wing points to his back and with dread Hot Rod turns facing the only shiny surface in Optimus office.

There on the small of his back was a handprint. “you have got to be kidding me!”

“Ah my little mechs have grown up and chosen a mate,” Wing sighs. “Though I am a bit surprised that they are going after the same mech. They usually don’t have much in common.”

“What!” Hot Rod screeches.

Optimus sighs, “I was waiting to tell him about that last.”

“He would have found out eventually. Either from Deadlock or Drift trying to seduce or jump his struts.”

“What!” his volume got higher.

“Should I expect and visit from Megatron or Dia Atlas?”

Wing shrugs, “I would think both since Deadlock joined up with your lover’s tribe.”

“I-I can’t-can’t deal with this,” Hot Rod runs out.

“Hot Rod!”

The young mech didn’t hear them call out to him. He ran into the village proper and out into the woods. He stops once he is in the darker parts of the forest where not even the sun touched the forest floor. From there he ambles aimlessly numb to the point of not bothering to keep track of where he has been or going. It was too much in a short amount of time being sacrificed then having two strangers marking him as though he was their property. He hadn’t a choice in any of that and it frustrates him to the point of igniting a few saplings on fire.

He quickly puts those out, “oops,” looking around to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. With a huff he turns to head back to the village, it took an hour before realizing that he was lost. With an aggravated grunt Hot Rod tries to follow his ped prints back looking for anything familiar.

“Oh, I am in so much trouble,” he remembered that he was so focused on getting away that he hadn’t look were he ran. “I am never going to live this down.”

“Maybe not but I’m not complaining,” a deep dark voice oozed out from the shadows.

Hot Rod spins around arms up, “Whose there?”

“now now little mech. No need to be hostile, I just saw you here all alone and lost and thought I offer you my help.” Out of the shadows, a very tall gray as death mech slithers out. Hot Rod inches backward away from him. seeing this the mech smiles, “come now I just-

Suddenly there were twin roars of rage and two dark shapes leaping out of the trees. One lands in front of Hot Rod the other lands on the tall gray mech. The one that was in front of him turns and Hot Rod recognizes him.


“Hello, Roddie,” the white mech smiles showing off a little fang. “What are you doing out here?”

“What am I-you marked me!” Hot Rod yells. “But if you’re here then is that?”

Drift nods, “my twin Deadlock.” He scowls, “I heard what he did.”

“You both marked me without my consent!” Hot Rod threw his arms up then crossed them over his flame pattern chest.

Drift manages to look very sheepish, “I-I don’t have much of an excuse for that. But would you allow us to talk after Deadlock gets done with Roadrage.”

Hot Rod pouts, “I guess.” He looks over to where Deadlock was pinning the gray mech, “He’s having too much fun.”

Drift shrugs, “that’s normal,” he tugs Hot Rod away, “why don’t we go wait over here?’


“Hold on right there, that mech is mind,” Deadlock growls.

Hot Rod found himself squished between the two brothers. He sent a silent prayer that someone would find them and help free him before deciding to teach them a lesson himself. Now that he properly fueled Hot Rod let his flames spark. The brothers jumped away as Hot Rod was engulfed, and they cried out in horror.

Once they were a good distance Hot Rod cut off his flames. Both mechs were staring at him wide-eyed frozen in shock. They expected him to be brunt horribly beyond recognition, Hot Rod was unharmed. There wasn’t a blemish on him from the fire no warping plating or damage circuity. If anything, Hot Rod came out looking shiner then before with the heat waves surrounding him.

“Now if you two wouldn’t mind,” Hot Rod said. “Explain yourselves, why the pit did you mark me?” when he didn’t get an answer, he growls, “hey wh-eep!” whirling around he glares at Drift who had sneaked up behind him and groped him. “Watch it!”

The white mech shrugs and grins. Hot Rod was ready to throttle them, “a little spitfire eh Drift?” Deadlock smirks.

“I’ll show you a spitfire!” Hot Rod retorts ready to flame up again.

Deadlock, however, saw it coming and was on him in second. Soon the quiet forest was filled with screeching obscenities. “And has such a mouth. I wouldn’t mind finding out what else he can do with it,” the blue-gray mech smirks. He had caught the fiery mech and threw him over his shoulder, “this round goes to me little runaway Knight,” he seers at his sibling.

“It only counts if you make back to your tribe.” Drift lounges against a tree, “until then your both fair game.” Smirking when Deadlock growls back at him.

 Drift waits for his brother to make the first move. Deadlock took a step one way and Drift copied him, he shuffled the other way, so did Drift. All the while they did this Hot Rod struggled to get loose but the mech held on tight. A frustrated sound then everything was a tumbling but instead of ending on the ground in the pile of tangled limbs and growls. Hot Rod found himself staring down at the two mechs, but his feet weren’t touching the ground. Twisting as much as he could he found that Wing was the one holding him.

“I had hoped that my two grown mechlings would act like the adults that they are supposed to be.” He was frowning which got both mechs attention. They scrambled up and shifted nervously though Deadlock scowled more than shifted. “Now let’s make this clear, Hot Rod has a choice in this and you two must respect it. That doesn’t mean chase him down and play tug of war.”

He places Hot Rod down, “the poor mech hasn’t had a chance to settle down from being nearly killed by his former home. And you two know that you must ask his brother for permission before courting. Until he shows up you both will just have to relearn what it means to be patient.”

Hot Rod couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “What?”

Wing winks, “you can still refuse them too. But judging from your hot frame, you like them too.”

“I am the better looking,” Deadlock said.

“you wish,” Drift mutters.

Deadlock growls, “you want tussle sword boy.” He beckons his brother with four clawed digits, “I make ya a smear on the ground.”

Drift slowly pulled both swords from their sheaths, “I like to see you get close enough to try.” He raised one sword above his helm and turned sideways.

Hot Rod watched as the two mechs squared off, “Let's let them fight it out and head back. I need to fuel, and Bee wanted to show me around.”

Wing hides a grin but nods, “sure.” He takes Hot Rod by the shoulder and leads him back to the village.

They didn’t get far before Deadlock and Drift notice that they were leaving. Drift gave his brother a superior grin before darting off to catch up. Deadlock snarl something and raced after catching up to his brother and yanking him back. Drift catches himself, scowling he flips over his brother and sends a roundhouse kick to Deadlock’s stomach.

Wing looked behind them and watch the two go at each other. He grins, “Are they still fighting?” Hot Rod asks and Wing wiped off the grin.

“Yep.” He watched that spoiler twitched.

“I didn’t want any of this. I always thought that I would at least know my spark match. I never thought I have two fighting over who gets to bang me first.” Hot Rods spoiler dips low, “I was already a freak. No one in my village could do what I do, and everyone was afraid of my brother.”

“That’s how most villages are I’m afraid, but that just makes our three little towns unique.” Wing puts Hot Rod on the head, “everyone here is different so you’ll fit right in with all us weirdos.” The red and yellow mech stared up at the winged mech who met his worried confusion with a smile.

“What have I gotten myself into?” he asks himself.