Hasbro and Takara own all characters. Any and all reviews would really be welcome, guys!

Ten seconds ago I was fatally wounded.

It is a strange thing to die in the darkness. Stranger still to be killed in the safety of your own heavily fortified city. But I am not afraid. I have fought in a war, and I have created weapons responsible for the deaths of many. It would be wrong for me to outlast the war.

Guns, rifles, rocket launchers, grenades, cannons and lasers. I made them. I modified them. They were used then as they were used now, to destroy. Was it a question of survival? Undoubtedly. If I hadn't built them would someone else have? Probably, but it doesn't justify my role in all this death.

And yet, as my spark contracts and fades, and darkness steals the glow from my optics, I am alive with joy. I made something, many years ago, that I rank as the greatest achievement in Cybertronian history. I built something beautiful. I built my own family, and I wish I could see them just one more time. What would I say?

"I'm proud of you. All of you."

My first creation, Grimlock, so full of pride and arrogant bluster. My spark sank when he showed contempt for the weak, and my spark shone as he protected both Autobot and human with his awesome strength and ferocious will. I'm so proud of him. He will become a great leader. And I will not see it.

"I care for you. All of you."

Slag, so fierce, so unyielding, so committed. My spark dimmed when he sought conflict with his team-mates, and my spark danced when he integrated himself into his family unit, and fought for them, rather than with them. He will save lives, many times over, and I will not be one of them.

"I respect you. All of you."

The third of my creations, Sludge, docile and brave. My spark faltered when he yielded without question, and my spark flew when he stood up for himself, because he knew it was right. He has grown so much, and could grow so much more, and I will not be there.

"I miss you. All of you."

The stoic yet heroic Snarl, self-styled loner. My spark despaired when he feigned indifference and shunned others, and my spark delighted when he showed his hidden qualities. He will perform acts of great courage, and be a beacon of hope for all. And I will not see him shine.

"I worry for you. All of you."

Swoop, the kindest and most sensitive of my children. My spark groaned when you pronounced your hatred for the hideous prison I designed for you, and my spark gloried in the whoops of joy you gave whilst airborne. You will do great things, create beautiful things. And I will not bear witness.

I remember how the other Autobots shunned you. I never forgave them, I was not strong enough. But you were. You forgave every slight, every joke, every repulsed look, every cruel barb. You were better than them. You were better than me. You shame us with your capacity to forgive.

I remember how you tried to rebel in your younger years. The hot-headedness of youth, Ratchet called it. He had a soft spot for all of you, the grumpy old gadget-grinder. He and I spent so much time training you, talking with you and defending you to the other Autobots. I took great pride in the day Ironhide admitted he was wrong about all of you.

I remember how I cursed you with your rudimentary brain systems, but I gave you the capacity to learn. You used it well, however war is not a place for learning. Hopefully, one day when the war is over, you will take joy in more learning and become an aspiration to all. You are more than capable of it.

I remember the day I created you. I remember using you as engines of war and destruction. A gunsmith making weapons. A Toymaker making toys. Neither of those was true. I was a creator making creations. No. I was a father making children. And no father could ever have been as proud of himself, or his children.

The five of you are my legacy. The five of you are my family. The five of you represent the best in all of us. You are my testament to the wonder of creation, and to the power of family.

"I love you. All of you. Unconditionally, now and forever more."

My name is Wheeljack, and this is the Last Will and Testament of a proud father, who only wishes he could see his children one more time. If I could cry, I would, but not for me. For them, always for them.

Wheeljack, out.