Skygnaw reached down and retrieved the scepter. Before he could even inspect it, the device rapidly expanded, adjusting its size until it perfectly fit his massive grip. As he held it, streams of data flickered through his optics; the relic was uploading its specifications directly into his core.
A flash of surprise and delight crossed Skygnaw's face. The Scepter of Retribution. So that was the name of this Iacon Relic.
In true Cybertronian fashion, the scepter was devoid of gaudy ornamentation. It was thick at the top and tapered toward the base, forged from a reinforced alloy known as Superconducting Stone. Intricate, interlocking grooves etched its surface, and the head housed a hollowed-out crystalline cube—an emitter that pulsed with a faint, rhythmic glow.
The scepter's function was singular but devastating: it fired the stasis pulses Eri had used earlier. These waves "stripped" a target from the normal flow of time, leaving them suspended at the exact moment of impact. While the effect wasn't permanent—larger and more powerful targets like Skygnaw could break free in seconds—it was a terrifying weapon from the peak of Cybertronian civilization.
"To think they mastered temporal manipulation..." Skygnaw mused. If one relic was this potent, he could only imagine the god-like powers of the others. I should start keeping a dedicated log for these items.
Sheathing his blade, Skygnaw walked toward the broken form of Eri. The Cephalon leader had been thoroughly dismantled by a vengeful Dirge.
"I was wondering why you weren't afraid of me," Skygnaw said, weighing the scepter in his hand. "Was this your trump card?"
"Mercy! Please!" Eri, far from being a warrior of conviction, began to beg frantically. "The scepter is yours! Just don't kill me! I'll give you all the Cephalon treasures... everything!"
"Cephalon treasures?" Skygnaw's interest was non-existent. What could a laboratory accident of a race possibly possess?
He glanced out at the plains. While he had been attuning to the scepter, Carnage and the others had finished off the remaining clone soldiers and Eri's "inner circle."
"How did you get this?" Skygnaw asked.
"I... I found it on this planet..." Eri stammered, his eyes darting.
Skygnaw scoffed. Since when did Iacon Relics grow in the wild on backwater rocks? "Dirge, he's all yours."
Leaving the screams behind, Skygnaw entered the fortress. He didn't need Eri to tell him the truth; the scepter had clearly been brought here by Cyclonus. Inside, his attention was immediately drawn to several metallic frames slumped in a corner.
To his surprise, these Cybertronians were structurally intact, yet their Sparks were extinguished. They looked as if they had simply run out of energy. But Skygnaw knew better; no Cybertronian would sit idly and fade away without entering stasis.
Upon closer inspection, he found puncture marks—small, precise holes in the necks, shoulders, and limbs of the corpses. Their internal reservoirs were bone-dry, as if every drop of Energon had been forcibly siphoned out.
No way... Skygnaw felt a chill. They really were drained by that monster.
He realized then that the "vampire" story wasn't just a local myth. These were likely Cyclonus's original teammates, murdered and drained by their own leader after his transformation.
[Pestilence, bring the ship down.] Skygnaw ordered. He wanted these frames taken back for study.
...
The transport ship appeared above the castle within a minute. Pestilence and the crew hauled the four husks aboard while Skygnaw took a final walk through the ruins. The castle was primitive, built from local red stone, housing technology that was a joke compared to even his basic outposts in Alaska.
"My Lord, the cargo is secured," Pestilence reported.
"Good. Head back to orbit."
Skygnaw had what he came for. Logically, it was time to leave Rubicund. But there was one loose thread. He walked onto the battlefield, picked up a mechanical insect's carcass, and ripped off its wing.
Hidden beneath was a purple spider insignia.
Skygnaw's mouth twisted into a grin. "Blackarachnia... is that you?"
Inside an unknown subterranean cavern on Rubicund.
The cave was a sprawling nightmare of webbing and tunnels, teeming with mechanical insects of all sizes. At the center of the largest chamber, a massive half-black, half-white web held a slender, feminine figure. Four mechanical, arachnid-like limbs dangled from her back.
A small, spider-like robot scurried across her chassis.
"Alright, Blackarachnia," Scalpel said, jumping down and looking at her with clinical concern. "The Dark Energon contamination has been almost entirely purged. How do you feel?"
Blackarachnia opened her optics and let out a long, metallic sigh. She closed them again, focusing on her internal sensors. A moment later, she looked at him with genuine relief.
"Perfect. The thirst... that craving for blood... it's finally gone."
She looked at her forearm, where several puncture wounds were finally beginning to knit together. A few months ago, she and Scalpel had left Earth to retrieve her biological war machines—the Insecticons—from her homeworld. On their way back, they were lured to Rubicund by a Cybertronian distress signal.
She had nearly died on this god-forsaken rock.
Blackarachnia hadn't always been a Cybertronian; she was a techno-organic hybrid who had fled her creators and joined the Decepticons to find a cure for her condition. Eventually, she had achieved full inorganic life and ascended to Commander-class. Scalpel was her only remaining kin, whom she had personally saved and modified.
Now, staring at the cave ceiling, she contemplated her next move. Revenge was on her mind, but survival came first.
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