Across the vast African plains, herds of wild animals stared with wide, bewildered eyes at the metallic titans that had suddenly appeared in the distance.
Inside the abandoned service station, a high-level council of Decepticon command was underway.
Megatron pushed himself up from the ground, turning his gaze toward the gathered officers. "What word from my assassin?"
Only now, seeing Megatron up close, did Skygnaw realize just how deteriorated the supreme commander truly was.
A large section of his cranial plating was missing, and his entire chassis was covered in oxidation, deep blast gouges, and structural cracks. Small sparks occasionally flickered from damaged internal conduits.
It was hard to tell whether this was the result of Optimus Prime's relentless hunting over the past three years, or lingering damage from the battle in Egypt that had never properly repaired.
"Lord Megatron," Laserbeak said, craning his neck forward as his crimson optical sensors glowed. "Everything is set. Contact has been made with our human asset on the other continent. He is confident he can manage the situation."
"A few minor promises and hollow incentives were all it took to get them working for our cause..."
Skygnaw's optics narrowed slightly, his gaze shifting to the mechanical bird.
The Decepticons had not spent the past three years merely running; they had been steadily laying the groundwork for a broader campaign.
This likely ties into Sentinel Prime's plan, Skygnaw deduced.
As long as Megatron made an occasional high-profile appearance to draw the attention of Optimus Prime and the Autobots, the rest of the Decepticon network remained free to operate in the shadows.
"Lord Megatron," Laserbeak continued eagerly, seizing the opportunity to prove his worth. "At your command, the operation begins immediately. You know how long we have waited for this..."
A sharp gleam returned to Megatron's optics, replacing his weary demeanor. "Well done, my assassin!"
"For three years, I ordered our forces to hold back and stay hidden, watching Optimus Prime and the Autobots parade around the globe..."
"I have had enough of hiding in the dark!"
"Skygnaw!"
Megatron's gaze shifted between Shockwave and Skygnaw before settling squarely on the latter.
"I need you and Laserbeak to travel to a specific nation on this planet," Megatron said, tossing a piece of heavy machinery onto the dirt between them.
CLANK!
"This is...?" Skygnaw glanced down. The component was clearly a critical section of a starship engine, and the design was unmistakably familiar.
"Ensure the Autobots—preferably Optimus Prime himself—discover this artifact. The success of our entire plan depends on it!"
"How you handle the staging is up to you. Laserbeak will follow your lead."
"Understood, Lord Megatron," Skygnaw nodded. He had already identified the part.
It was an engine component from Sentinel Prime's lost flagship, the Ark.
Sentient beings rarely placed full trust in a truth handed to them on a platter, but they believed completely in discoveries they uncovered with their own hands.
Instead of directly leaking the fact that Sentinel Prime lay on the Moon, guiding the Autobots to uncover the classified cover-up piece by piece was far more effective.
Clever. As expected of a former Autobot supreme commander...
In the original timeline, Shockwave had been assigned to oversee this specific operation.
Now, with a Prime-level warrior available, Skygnaw naturally took the role.
Shockwave was a formidable Commander-tier combatant, but the performance gap between a Commander and Optimus Prime was substantial; deploying him carried unnecessary risk.
Megatron had likely weighed the odds before giving the assignment to Skygnaw.
"Soundwave," Megatron commanded, turning to his communications officer. "Signal your human sleeper assets to begin. Ensure there are no missteps. Shockwave will oversee their movements."
"The time has come to take our vengeance on the Autobots and reclaim what belongs to the Decepticon empire!"
Chicago, Willis Tower.
Sixty-fourth floor.
[CNN: Industrial incident reported in the Middle East several days ago confirmed to be a covert strike. An illegal nuclear enrichment facility was leveled in the operation. To date, no nation or organization has claimed responsibility...]
Click.
Sam closed the browser tab with a quiet sigh, checking his wrist. "Almost quitting time..."
The watch was a gift from Carly—nothing extravagant, barely under ten grand.
Three days had passed since Sam joined Accuretta Systems, and he had settled into the daily rhythm of his new position.
His role in the securities division was straightforward: he ran errands.
On his first day, Sam had pushed back against the assignment, but Whitley had smoothed things over in minutes:
"Trust me, Sam, the position you really want comes after this one. Everyone has to start somewhere and put in the time. That includes me..."
Corporate ladders existed everywhere, and large institutions were no exception.
It had little to do with raw talent and everything to do with workplace hierarchy.
A person might be capable, but newcomers had to prove themselves over time. Without seniority, immediate placement in high-level roles caused friction among long-standing employees who had spent years working through the ranks.
Sam's backchannel recommendation acted like a one-time entry ticket rather than an express pass to an executive suite.
Whitley's corporate rhetoric was far more polished than anything Sam had encountered in college.
Under his guidance, Sam spent his days in the mailroom—printing reports, shredding outdated files, sorting mail, and running deliveries between departments.
That was the entirety of his daily routine.
At four in the afternoon, Sam clocked out and headed straight for the parking garage, climbing into his battered yellow Camaro to drive across town.
Tiresome as the mailroom was, he still had to follow the office schedule.
Vroom—
The Camaro sped along the lakefront, eventually pulling up before a sleek, sail-shaped modern structure: the Space Mountain Museum.
Despite the name, the venue had nothing to do with space exploration. It was an exclusive automotive gallery.
The facility specialized in restoring, displaying, and occasionally auctioning ultra-rare vintage vehicles.
Access was strictly private, operating on a member-only basis.
When Sam stepped into the grand marble lobby, the attendant at the front desk stopped him immediately.
"Good afternoon, sir. Do you have an invitation, or may I see your membership card?"
"Uh... membership? Sorry, I'm just here to..." Sam trailed off, suddenly feeling out of place.
The opulent decor of the museum lobby was intimidating enough on its own, not to mention the patrons walking through the halls.
They were dressed in tailored suits and elegant evening wear, moving with an effortless air of wealth. Several older collectors were accompanied by glamorous companions who looked like they had stepped off a film set.
Everything in the room seemed to highlight that this was an elite circle, far removed from an ordinary college kid in an off-the-rack suit.
Fortunately, a familiar figure appeared just in time to break the tension.
"Sam! What a wonderful surprise!"
Wearing a form-fitting white pencil dress and high heels that clicked crisply against the marble floor, Carly walked over with a bright smile.
This was where she worked.
Three nights ago, Carly had met Sam's parents for dinner. The evening had gone exceptionally well; Carly's natural charm had won Ron and Judy over completely, leaving them convinced their son had struck gold.
They had given their full blessing to the relationship before packing up their RV the following morning to resume their cross-country road trip, disappearing back onto the highway.
"What are you doing here?" Carly asked, giving him a warm hug in front of the lobby staff.
"Just came to see you," Sam said, holding her close. "You know I've always wanted to check this place out..."
"Is that so?"
"Of course."
Sam's motive was obvious enough.
Back when he was unemployed, he had felt self-conscious and politely turned down her invitations to visit the gallery.
Now that he was formally employed at one of the city's top aerospace firms, he wanted to stand beside her with his head held high.
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