A/n: This story is most probably familiar to some readers. It holds a special place in my heart, because I had come up it with a long time ago, when I was first introduced to the world of Transformers. I never actually wrote it back then. Nevertheless, the idea lingered in the back of my mind, until it was triggered again when my love for the fandom rejuvenated with the 2007 movie. So, after smoothing out some details and putting some more thought into the plot, here's the final result. I like to believe the outcome will be interesting to others as well.

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Summer neared its end, but the nights were still pleasantly warm and bright. There was a full moon rising on the horizon, and the inhabitants of the Greek island of Santorini were particularly lively. The cafeterias and tavernas were filled with tourists who enjoyed the luxuries that the locals provided, whether it was food or wine – or even dancing. They didn't mind the volcano crater that towered over them in all its blackened glory, for the volcano had been dormant for the last 30 years. Now it only served as a symbol of what the island used to be once, according to legend; a part of a powerful civilization, now long gone.

There were very few people who noticed the green-coloured flash of light that flew across the sky; mostly fishermen who had gone out on their boats to catch fish and sell them to the market the next morning. However, they simply shrugged it off as a shooting star. Shooting stars were a common sight on August nights, after all.

Then again, little did they realize that shooting stars were rarely green, if ever. If they did, they would probably have still kept their eyes on it and notice that the particular shooting star even manoeuvred towards the Atlantic Ocean.

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"Are you sure about this?" asked a young teenager, dressed in a pair of jeans, brown shoes and a white shirt. He was speaking Greek and in quite the nervous manner.

"Of course I am. Chill out, Andreas," another teenager answered, also in Greek. Though he was dressed in pretty much the same way, he looked older than his companion.

"If dad finds out that we came out here, we'll be in trouble."

"We won't be, unless you stop nagging."

The younger of the two teenagers huffed and rolled his eyes. "He'll see the boat is gone, Spyros."

"We'll be back by then. We're not that far."

"But what if we're seen?" Andreas insisted. "Uncle Nicholas usually fishes in these parts, you know!"

"Not tonight, he's helping Aunt Loukia at the taverna. Now move."

Andreas moved on, minding his steps on the sharp, black rocks. "I can't believe you talked me into this. Especially to impress some girl!"

"Hey, if you want to go back, be my guest and swim back! I'm going to get the metal piece."

"Fine, just… wait for me, will you?"

But Spyros continued on, not really looking back at his brother; he was currently on the lookout for something else.

"Now let's see," he murmured to himself. "It should be on the north side." Moving with the agility of an expert in such precarious terrain, the teenager headed toward that direction, until he eventually found what he had been searching for: a cavern that was half-emerged in sea-water.

"Is that the place then?" Andreas said then, finally catching up and looking down at the cavern as well.

"Yeah," Spyros answered. He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and took off his shoes. "Hand me the flashlight."

Andreas complied, albeit half-heartedly. "Just be careful, okay?"

"Fine." And with that, Spyros dived into the water. Moments later, he had re-surfaced and gotten swallowed by the blackness of the cave.

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Spyros figured that it was an easy enough venture. He would find the Odd Wreck, take a piece out of it and he would be back to show his trophy to Helena. It was always a kind of challenge among the lads of the island, for the Odd Wreck didn't earn its name for nothing. His uncle had discovered it about ten years ago and, in his own words, it was as though it came out of nowhere. It wasn't the wreckage of a ship, even though it certainly looked like it. It wasn't the wreckage of any other kind of machinery the fishermen of Santorini were familiar with either for that matter. If anything, it looked more like something that industrially powerful countries like America would have built.

That was also one of the reasons that the fishermen had come to a silent agreement to leave the wreck where it was, thinking it was best not to mess with unfamiliar things. It would probably mean trouble if they did.

So, the Odd Wreck remained there, slowly decaying in its watery prison and only mentioned in passing by the fishermen whenever the topic came up. The children, on the other hand, used their wild imagination and made up all kinds of stories about what the Odd Wreck could be: others said it was a powerful secret military weapon, while others claimed that it was a spaceship from Mars.

Still, these things didn't matter to Spyros anymore. He had come to the Odd Wreck for one thing only.

It didn't take him long to find the Wreck. It was just a couple of meters below the surface and wedged on a rocky crevice. At least, what was left of it, for now it had become nothing more than a convenient house for all kinds of life-forms, from large fish to the smallest of crustaceans.

Just then, something shiny caught Spyros's eye. It was one of the few parts that, for whatever reason, hadn't rusted or even caught mould. It was a sort of golden-coloured insignia, etched on one of the metal plates.

Spyros didn't waste any time. Taking out a pocket knife from his jeans, he got ready to get the insignia out.

It was at that moment that he felt something moving behind him.

Something big.

Mustering all his courage, he turned around… and found himself looking petrified at a pair of glowing yellow eyes.

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"Spyros? Spyros, come on!"

Andreas now grew more than just a little nervous. His brother had been gone for far too long, something that the young boy couldn't understand.

"I hope this isn't one of your stupid tricks again!" he cried.

There was no answer.

"Spyro--!"

A terrible roaring sound that seemed to reverberate through Andreas' whole body cut the rest of Andreas's sentence off. To say the young teenager got frightened almost out of his wits would have been an understatement. His very blood felt like it froze in his veins.

"Spyros?" he stammered.

It was then that the thought occurred to him. What if his brother was in danger?

"Spyros!" Without any more hesitation and snatching a rock, he hurried towards the sound of the roar. He didn't know what he was dealing with, but if Spyros was in danger, he would have to help his brother; of this he was sure.

And yet he didn't find anything.

"Where are you?!" Andreas cried in despair.

Finally, he saw it: a pale body was sprawled on the rocks, somehow still clinging to them in spite of the waves mercilessly crashing on them. But it was the sight of blood that snapped the younger boy into action. Without thinking twice and calling out to his brother, he dived into the water and grabbed Spyros to carry him safely to their boat.

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He still kept his hands on the smooth board in front of him, eyes locked on the small monitor in search of anything out of the ordinary. Once he decided that his landing was complete, he stood up. The lights of the control board immediately dimmed and the monitor switched on standby mode, but he didn't care about that for now. He walked to the direction of the metal flaps and placed a hand on a seemingly useless panel on the wall. The panel lit up, and the metal doors opened with a loud clank.

He was a bit taken aback to see the moonlight reflected in the waters; he hadn't seen any natural light in a long time and the sensation was strange, albeit welcome, in his eyes. He didn't know for how long he remained like this, almost basking; but he remembered himself and walked out, looking cautiously at his surroundings. The island he had picked out of the several ones in the so-called Atlantic Ocean was small and there were no inhabitants, of course. Even so, he was aware that the beings of this planet had several ways of detection, like radars and sonars – even satellites. Yes, his shuttle was equipped with a cloaking device, but he still had to go out in the open; so he had to be quick about things.

He picked three fist-sized orbs from a small utility compartment and walked outside. As he held them in his hands, the devices lit up and sprang into the water, breaking the liquid surface with a soft plopping sound. He still managed to catch a glimpse of the light they emanated but, soon enough, the orbs were gone out of sight.

With that done, he returned back to his ship and settled back on the commanding seat. When his hands touched the control board, the monitor was turned on again, thus showing him a global view of Earth.

He was pleased to see that the tracking orbs were working perfectly. He could see them leaving the island he was currently on and separate to take three different directions: one went south; the second one north; and the third one towards the continent of America, specifically the Panama Canal.

He smiled, for he realised now that all he had to do was wait. Even though he didn't dare keep his hopes up, he still had a good feeling that this time he would find what he had been looking for. And then he would finally finish what had started centuries ago.

TBC…