Notes:

Okay, so I suppose I should make this clear from the start: the only reason I still consider this a Fnaf crossover, is because I will be using the animatronic characters. That's it. There's no Fazbear entertainment, no William Afton, no murders, no vengeful spirits, no Henry, etc, etc. The animatronics will be presented here as a separate species, similar to cybertronians (and about as tall as them too). Just thought I had to say this from the get-go

Everybot knows of the rivalry between the two one of the most powerful beings of the cosmos, one born of chaos, the other – of creation. For millions upon millions of centuries these opposites struggled, neither succeeding at gaining the upper hand until finally one of them prevailed. The Thirteen Primes, created by the very servos of Primus himself, banished the opposing God, Unicron, the Chaos bringer, to the stars, where he would sleep for many years, unable to spread disorder and mayhem, till he made his inevitable return. But Unicron did not accept his defeat so easily.

His wicked spark roiling with resentment and rage, Unicron vowed to take his revenge at any cost. In the final moments before slumber overtook him, upon a distant planet, he created his own defenders, ones that were more powerful and more vicious than any of the Primes. They were the most vile creatures the universe has ever seen, creatures born of darkness, madness and absolute chaos. They would attain victory in their Creator's name and attack Cybertron from the shadows, their pedesteps falling silent, their movements too quick for the optic to see and their blows always finding their chosen victim.

Though their appearance may be monstrous, however, it is said that their voices are the most beautiful sounds a Cybertronian will ever hear. These creations of Unicron will cry out in the dead of night, reaching out to anyone who will hear them. But, it is a grave mistake to follow their songs, for waiting in the gloom are sharp claws and teeth and a crazed mind.

The Thirteen Primes searched and searched, but none could ever find the planet upon which Unicron had planted this seed of evil. They say that these creations of Chaos are still out there, only biding their time and awaiting the perfect opportunity to avenge their fallen Master.

=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=

The humans were listening intently for once, Ratchet noted. Not unusual for Jack and Rafael, but certainly a surprising occurrence with Miko. The hyperactive girl was practically on the edge of her seat, eyes large and sparkling with excitement as she literally forced herself to remain seated and mostly silent. The medic had to admit that he couldn't see why she was so enthusiastic. The tale he was recounting was old, one of the many stories centered around the two most mysterious Gods in Cybertron's history. That did not mean that such myths were true, not at all, and this particular legend had more often than not been used to discipline disobedient sparklings instead of being taken seriously. 'Behave, or Unicron's creations will come after you', or something along those lines anyway.

But Rafael had asked to learn more of Cybertron's history after the whole mess with Unicron's awakening and Optimus' subsequent amnesia and if Ratchet were being honest with himself, he had been more than happy to oblige the youngest human's request. Not that he'd ever admit to it of course. If anyone asked, he would just claim that he was just happy that the humans were finally showing an interest in learning about Cybertron, rather than forcing the Autobots to learn about Earth.

It upset Ratchet greatly that so few of them were eager to talk about their former home now.

Optimus no doubt still blamed himself for playing a major role in Cybertron's destruction, Arcee forbade herself from reminiscing, instead opting to focus on the here and now, Bumblebee felt saddened that he got to spend so little time there, being barely able to recollect the way their home looked before the smoke, explosions and non-stop shooting and Bulkhead refused to think back to the times when his build had dictated his function. Only Ratchet seemed unable to forget, to move on, to accept Earth as his new home. Only he was still eager to tell stories of an older time, before the war, the corruption, the disgusting belief-system of Functionism. Yet, there was nobody who wanted to stop and listen. Except for this one brilliant, ever curious twelve year old boy the medic was quickly and inevitably becoming attached to.

"….well? Did they?", Miko's voice, high and annoying as ever, broke him out of his thoughts, forcefully dragging his attention back to the three humans standing by the metallic bars on the catwalk.

"No, of course not! Nobot in the history of Cybertron has ever heard of a living xevertronian, much less encountered one. What I just recounted to you is an ancient legend, a myth, created to scare youngsters! There is no such thing as a 'creation of Unicron' and never was", Ratchet scoffed, turning back to the monitors, quite done with the brief history lesson. He had other, far more important things to attend to now and hopefully the children would get the hint.

They did not.

"But how can you know for sure? The universe is huge, right? Isn't it possible that they're really out there somewhere?" It was Raf who was speaking now, briefly adjusting the large spectacles perched on the edge of his nose, brown eyes narrowed in confusion. Ratchet expelled air from his vents in a heavy sigh, already feeling the helmache bloom inside and starting to regret ever telling the children about the legend of Xevertron.

"Because, Rafael, many cybertronian explorers and historians have spent their lives searching for the mystical planet and none ever managed to find it. Besides, we used to communicate with many different life forms throughout the galaxy and shared many stories. If Xevertron had ever existed, we would've at least heard rumors of it. As it were, the legend of Unicron's creations has passed down from generation to generation, has been told and shared many times, but never proven to actually be true. It is the basic equivalent of a ghost story, nothing more, nothing less", he answered, pinching his nasal ridge and praying for what was left of his patience. No over legend had had this sort of effect on the humans and why this particular one intrigued them more than the others was beyond him. But despite his visible irritation, the children were not so easily dissuaded.

"But at the heart of every legend there is a grain of truth, right? Could it be, that this 'Xevertron' just slipped under your radar? I mean, one of your prophecies with the planetary alignment turned out to be true, so why can't this be true as well?" Jack asked, leaning sideways against the railing, thoughtfully twirling his phone in his fingers. Ratchet considered him for several moments, before sighing again, his exasperation slowly ebbing.

"Well, it is possible, but highly unlikely in my opinion. If you're really interested, I suppose you can always ask Optimus. Being a former archivist, he's quite well-versed in the ancient legends of Cybertron, better than me in fact", the monitors failed to show any worrying changes, Arcee and Bumblebee's signals were still absent due to them being deep in one of the energon mines in the Ural Mountains, Bulkhead was still out on patrol and Optimus was following up on recent decepticon activity in Australia. None were calling in for pick-up as of yet and as far as he was aware, there were no direct decepticon proximities he needed to warn them about.

Miko groaned in disappointment at the prospect of having to wait, soon retreating back to her video games when she realized that Ratchet was not inclined to continue the conversation, focusing instead on his work. Jack returned his attention to his phone, quickly sending a text message to his mother to inform her that he was at the base and would soon be heading out for his shift at the diner, before joining Miko by the TV. Only Raf lingered, mind churning with different possibilities and ideas.

"What did they look like?" Ratchet tore himself away from the screens for a few minutes, looking down at the smallest human.

"Well…", the medic trailed off, silently considering the question and thinking over how to best answer it. "Nobot knows for sure, but it is generally believed that they resembled predacons, one of the ancient races of Cybertron that looked like, well, some of your Earth animals I suppose I should say, except that xevertronians had the same ability to choose and transform into alt mode as we do and retained some animalistic features even while in bipedal form." That was the most common version any way.

"Oh", Raf said in reply, nodding Ratchet his thanks for the clarification, before opening his laptop, beginning to type away like he usually did, no doubt analyzing the gathered information in his own mind.

Having achieved peace and quiet at last, the autobot medic allowed himself to finally relax. However, after about half an hour of scanning for anything out of place, Ratchet found his own mind straying back to the accursed legend that didn't seem to want to leave his processor. What if the children were right? What if they really did exist? That would mean that somewhere out there existed a species closer to cybertronians than any other and considering that they were slowly dying out, perhaps they would be the only ones really able to carry on their legacy. Not that there was much left to carry on anyway given their more recent history.

This war had to end, otherwise they were all going to go extinct and all hope of ever reviving Cybertron would be lost. Unfortunately, it was starting to look like there was no other way to finish it other by removing one of the armies' heads. And knowing how difficult it would be for Optimus to kill an admittedly former brother, knowing the desperate hope that Megatron would realize how much he'd changed that the Prime still held close to his spark… Ending the war would also mean the end of Optimus as they knew him, he would simply not be able to live with himself, knowing that he could've changed his former ally, could've helped him see the atrocities he was committing. Even victory would ultimately prove to be a defeat for the autobots.

Ratchet was so lost in thought that he did not pay much attention to his surroundings, moving almost on autopilot when Jack asked for a groundbridge to the KO drive-in since Arcee was not available to drive him there at that time.

=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=

His shift turned out to be a boring one, like most of his shifts at the diner. The majority of the customers were fellow teenagers, some from his school, others being foreigners spending only a few days in Jasper before flying back home. There were some drunks too, but fortunately Jack himself didn't need to deal with them. Wasn't his turn much to his colleagues chagrin.

In the end in a desperate effort to relieve some boredom, his thoughts strayed back to the old cybertronian legend. It was puzzling why a mere legend would interest him so much, but if it entertained him for a few hours until he could go home, well, who was he to complain?

"Would Arcee know about it?" He wondered. She probably would. Though not much of a storyteller as Ratchet or Optimus, she did know quite a few old stories and ghost tales that she'd sometimes share with Jack if she felt like it. He quite enjoyed those moments of quiet serenity where he and Arcee would just sit on the highest level of the autobot base, watching the sunset, and she would start telling him about some things she missed or liked back on Cybertron.

But also, what if Ratchet was wrong? What if xevertronians were real? That would open so many possibilities. What would they look like? The medic had said that they resembled Earth animals, but he could be wrong. And in a certain sense it would be logical to assume that they did exist, at least for a time. After all, Dark energon was a very real thing as they'd all learnt and supposedly the 'blood of Unicron'. If, using that logic, plain energon was Primus' blood and the main fuel of all cybertronians, wouldn't it make sense that its dark equivalent would be the lifeblood of a different species, a species created by the Chaos bringer himself?

The topic was interesting enough for Jack and kept him entertained for several hours as he retreated deep into dreamland to escape the dreariness of work when somebody decided to ruin even that for him. That somebody being Vince.

Jack had never liked Vince, even before the latter decided to pick on him. The ginger was nothing more than a bully, feeding off of other people's misery to hide his own insecurities. He spent his days making fun of the smart kids, like Raf, who, unlike Vince, actually had a chance at a future, hitting on the prettiest girls the school had to offer, mostly on Sierra, and participating in illegal street racing, despite being almost arrested once. Vince was a typical school bully, nothing more and nothing less, and one Jack had quickly learned to ignore (What was the point of paying attention to people like that anyway? Would his life drastically change just because someone didn't like him? No, of course not, so why waste the energy by getting upset? That's what he told himself anyway). The only surprising thing about Vince was that he didn't have a gang, which was usually the case with such types. In fact, despite his popularity, Vince had very few friends, consisting of only Sierra and her blond friend, Abilene, or 'Abbie' as most of the kids called her. And even then that friendship seemed strained.

So, when Vince's voice filtered through the speaker, Jack grit his teeth and did his best to remain calm, refusing to allow the jerk to get a rise out of him. Everything was okay, he was going to be the bigger person, he'd just ignore the jibes and do his job…

Yeah, right. Easier said than done.

"Hey, Darby! Didn't think I'd see you here. Still working as a janitor, I see. Well, don't worry, I'm sure you'll get a promotion… Eventually", Vince sneered as he stopped his car, leaning back almost casually in the driver's seat and watching his supposed 'rival' through narrowed green eyes. Food bag in hand, Jack turned to the window, ready to throw it in Vince's smug face and send him on his way.

Only to come to an abrupt halt as he finally caught sight of the car the boy was driving.

It wasn't his usual black sports car with red flames drawn on the hood and sides. This was a different car entirely. For one, it was Porsche, making Jack wonder how in the hell Vince and his family could afford it. For two, it was dark purple and black in color with intricate and stunning designs of swirls, all of breathtaking shades of azure and dark sapphire.

It was a far cry from Vince's usual ride and definitely not his style. Jack literally had to force himself to look away, jealousy worming its way into his heart despite his best efforts.

Unfortunately, Vince caught him staring anyway.

"A beauty, isn't she?" The ginger said, faking nonchalance while brushing the back of his hand over the driver's seat door, smiling nastily at the frozen in place Darby, seemingly enjoying the effect his new ride made on the other boy. Jack cleared his throat, making a conscious effort not to glance back at the car and instead looking up to meet Vince's unpleasant grin.

"Eh, I don't know, I'm more into motorcycles", he shrugged, seemingly radiating indifference, enjoying the affronted look those words earned him. Placing the food bag on the windowsill, Jack leaned forward, a mock smile already fixed firmly on his face and the demand of payment on the tip of his tongue- when suddenly something else caught his attention. He could not see it before, but at this close proximity he saw it clearly. A barely there shift of plates, the twitch of the mirrors and a quick flash of headlights. The same movements Arcee herself made when Jack said something amusing during their quick joyrides. There was a burst of static, the radio turning on and off by itself, but Jack caught what sounded suspiciously like a laugh, but could easily be lost by an untrained ear. Vince's car was laughing at him!

In a blink of an eye, the movements were gone, and the car was completely still and silent once again.

Jack was so shocked by what he'd seen that he didn't hear Vince's snide comment, didn't see him grab the food bag without the intention of paying for it until the Porsche suddenly sped off, leaving behind a cloud of dust. Coughing, Jack took a quick step back away from the window, rubbing at his watering eyes where the kicked up sand had gotten in. What the hell was that? He had to be imagining things, right? There was no way Vince's car could actually be… be a transformer, could there? It was simply impossible! There was no autobot on Earth with that color scheme and no decepticon would ever willingly allow a human driver! Or wouldn't they? Could this be one of Megatron's newest ploys?

Mind racing, Jack fished out his phone from his dusty jeans, quickly dialing the by now memorized number, hoping against hope that Arcee would be able to answer him. There was a distinctive click as the call was accepted and Arcee's voice, low and tired, but also laced with worry filtered through easily, "Jack? Is everything alright? You never call me at this time, aren't you working?"

"Never mind that", Jack interjected quickly, reluctant to start explaining himself when they had much bigger problems at hand if what he was thinking was correct. "'Cee, I think Vince might be working with the decepticons.."

=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=

"What!?"

Sighing, Jack repeated, "I said, I saw his car shift, exactly like Arcee does when she's in her alt mode, like I've seen Bee and Bulkhead move their armor plates when they're amused, but can't speak up because we're in public. I heart it laugh. I'm not crazy, alright? I'm positive that Vince is driving a transforming vehicle! That would explain how he got a Porsche of all things out here too." His gaze moved from autobot to autobot, noting the disbelief and rising concern present on their faces, and he had to do his best not to flush from mild embarrassment and growing irritation when he realized that they did not believe him.

"But why would the 'Cons allow a human driver inside one of their soldiers? Megatron hates humans, thinks they're beneath him. Why would he willingly ally himself with them, much less a teenager?" Arcee blurted out, servos placed firmly on her hips as she frowned down at Jack's hunched form. She believed him of course, the boy wasn't one to lie, but this just made no sense!

"Ratchet", Optimus rumbled, expression serious and blue optics worried as he turned to his medic, "Is there any way it could be a neutral? I, too, find it highly unlikely that Megatron would ever cooperate with humankind, especially a human child."

"No", the response was instant as Ratchet turned back to the monitors displaying the various signals all over the world. "If it were a neutral, our scanners would've picked up his ship's signal as it entered the Earth atmosphere. And by the time Jack contacted Arcee, Vince and his new… 'companion' were long gone, so we cannot be sure it even was really a cybertronian, decepticon or otherwise."

"Are you suggesting Jack's lying?" Arcee snapped, turning on the white medic, optics flashing in suppressed anger though her EM field remained tightly controlled. From where he was standing near the catwalk, Bumblebee spoke up, a series of buzzes and clicks escaping his vocalizer, doorwings low and tense and his arms gesticulating wildly. Optimus nodded in agreement, turning back to the fuming two-wheeler.

"Bumblebee is right, we are not suggesting that Jack would ever willingly deceive us, but isn't it possible that he saw what in fact wasn't there? From my understanding jobs can get extremely tedious and even the best of us would retreat into our minds to better pass the time. Isn't it a possibility that Jack simply imagined the movements he witnessed? Especially if he was being deliberately antagonized?"

"Wha-?" Jack sputtered, offended. "With all due respect, Optimus, I saw the car move on its own! I wouldn't imagine something like that out of boredom or anger!"

"Jack", June's voice, calm, but stern, interjected her son's tirade before he could lose himself to his frustration. "Nobody here believes you're a liar, we're just trying to make sense of what you saw. You heard Ratchet, it could not have been a neutral, so if it really was a decepticon then we have to figure out why Megatron of all mechs would be willing to work with a human child who can't possibly have anything to offer him! We're just trying to consider all options here before opening that can of worms."

Jack visibly wilted at his mother's gentle scolding, nodding along as she made her point. She was right, he knew she was, but it was just so frustrating! The 'cons could have their servos on Vince right now, just like when Knock Out had kidnapped him some months back and truth be told, he didn't want the guy dead. Sure, he hated him, but a brutal death at the hands of decepticons wasn't something he'd wish upon even his worst enemies.

Raf, Miko and Bulkhead remained silent, none of them having anything to add and all three confused by the situation. You could practically see the wheels turning in Rafael's head, but the twelve-year old remained silent, watching the scene play out.

At last, Fowler spoke up, arms relaxing from where they had been tightly crossed against his chest, his brows furrowed and expression thoughtful. "If the 'Cons finally did decide to ally themselves with humans, however unlikely that is, could it be because they're trying to get to the kids perhaps? After all, Vince and Jack's rivalry is well-known in a small town like this and if Buckethead is willing to literally raise an entire army from the dead I doubt he'll have any moral reservations against using the children as leverage."

Unfortunately, out of all theories the autobots could come up with, Fowler's suggestion seemed like the most plausible one. Both the autobots and decepticons were getting reckless, fighting viciously over the few relics of the Primes they could find on Earth. The war was nearing its end, they could all feel it. Desperate times called for desperate measures and if hurting the children allowed Megatron to attain victory, he'd do it without question. They all knew that.

Optimus frowned, looking away as he considered the possibilities, even ones he was reluctant to accept, but there could be no other explanation. He could tell Jack wasn't lying if the fierce conviction in the teenager's eyes were anything to go by. Taking a deep invent, he turned to his teammates, leveling each one with a serious look. "If that is the case, then we need to exert extreme caution. Arcee, Bulkhead, Bumblebee, I want you to pay close attention to your charges. Do not let them out of sight outside of the base. "Ratchet," he turned to his old friend, noticing that the white medic was already facing him and listening intently, "I want you to keep an optic out for any decepticon activity and report to us immediately if there is any within the city of Jasper itself, if Vince is really in the company of a decepticon soldier, I would like to be made aware of it instantly."

Ratchet nodded, understanding the seriousness of the matter and sensing the unease in Optimus' normally controlled field. His own reached out, projecting understanding and a silent promise that he would fulfil what was asked of him. He didn't miss the small twitch of the Prime's lip plates as the larger mech forced himself not to smile and his spark warmed slightly at the sight.

=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=

The Vehicons were confused. Not unusual for them, but this time they genuinely had a good reason to be puzzled. Not because they were wondering how the hell Cybertron's fauna was so similar to Earth's, but because they couldn't explain the spark signature they'd picked up momentarily in the city of Jasper in Nevada. One moment it was there and the next it was gone. If the computers hadn't detected it immediately, they would've missed it. But that wasn't even the most puzzling aspect of it.

The signature was… peculiar, to put it simply. It was undoubtedly that of a spark, but something was off about it. It's beat was slower than a normal mech's yet much faster than an Insecticons. It didn't belong to any signatures in the decepticon databases, so it could not belong to one of their own. When they compared it with the many autobot signatures they had it didn't add up either. There were also signs of dark energon contamination, but that could not explain the… darkness of the spark involved.

The Vehicons couldn't exactly put it into words, but there was just something… unsettling about this spark. Something that gave them an ominous feeling. Something unpleasant that they couldn't quite put their digits on.

When hours passed and they still could not identify the mech it belonged too, ST3V3 raised a servo, cautiously addressing the large mech standing at the very front of the bridge. "Lord Megatron?" The warlord angled his helm, not turning around completely to face the speaker, but making it clear that he was listening. Slightly emboldened, the Vehicon, Steve as he liked to call himself, continued, bowing his helm in a show of submission and respect. "Our scanners have picked up a spark signature, sir, yet it remains unidentified."

At this Megatron turned around, intrigued enough to tear his attention away from where Soundwave was working diligently on the Iacon database. "What do you mean?" He rumbled, approaching the monitor displaying the puzzling signal. Even Soundwave looked up, momentarily halting his work, before resuming it, but much quieter now, listening intently.

Steve and the other Vehicons stepped aside as Megatron approached, allowing their leader full view of the screen. "We've compared it to all the signatures we have in our data base, it does not match any of them. There are also signs of dark energon contamination and… something else. We do not know how to explain it, but if we didn't know better we'd say that this spark does not belong to a cybertronian."

One optic ridge quirked, Megatron studied the information displayed on the screen, searching his own memory for anything alike. Coming up empty he turned to his TIC, not surprised in the least that Soundwave was already at his side and examining the readings as intently as the warlord himself. When the silent mech turned to him and his visor remained blank, Megatron knew that Soundwave did not recognize the signature either.

His interest piqued, he addressed the gathered Vehicons, optics never leaving the screen. "Add this signature to your search parameters. I must know to whom it belongs to and how to find them."

"Yes, Lord Megatron."

Notes:

Xevertron/ian - "Zeh-verh-tron/ian"
"Come closer, We don't bite" is a line from JT Machinima's Fnaf 4 rap.. I will probably change the name of the story itself if I manage to think of something decent.
Also, I regret nothing. Nope