((A fair few people were surprised, but a lot of people weren't very surprised by who Nightstrike's nephew is. XD I guess I am a bit predictable. Eh. Oh well. At least you all enjoyed it. Anyways, here's the next chapter. Hehe. The plot for this story is going to be amusing. I might be sticking with doing short chapters. It's easier to belt them out and move along plot wise, despite how much I enjoy a good 8k word chapter being set out. Also, sorry for the wait. Got my new laptop, so I'm super excited. It's taken me an age to get everything set up- and in the meantime, I've gotten sucked into the Undertale fandom. I'm super late into it- but I've fallen in love with Sans and his puns. And all the dark, cruel plots that people have thought up concerning him. I am a genuinely terrible person, I know. Well… ish. I had to restart the game when I killed toriel, 'cause I cried a bit. I am also very certain that my mother is going to murder me if I play Megalovania from my speakers again.))

His introduction to my home was kept quiet- If Sentinel found out, he would cause the biggest stink known to bot-kind. I brought him in as an apprentice, and we kept his relation to me between a scarce few. The fewer that knew, the less likely it was to be blabbed.

And trust me- it had taken a threat to my sometimes-obnoxious secretary to keep him quiet. He never believed me when I said I would kill him if it got out to Sentinel from him.

I took him straight into training, first getting him outfitted with combat grade armor. He looked less fragile in it- but he was still so… tiny.

He lacked door wings with which to be targeted, so the small mech would fare better in fights at his age than I had. It mattered not though- if he couldn't take the pain, he would crumple regardless of his lack of weakness. So far, the past months had not boded well for the young mech.

Jazz had tried to cling to my hand when we'd first gotten here- but he had proven to be too short to do it. He'd had to cling to my leg armor and vaguely hold on as we walked in.

He looked so… small, sitting there in my private training room. He took the time to clamp the usual chains around his wrists, and I eased the chains into proper place. It would keep him from falling on his face- much like my own rig had done when Windstrider had trained me- but also allow his body to relax into it's own weight with less stress than my own had originally done. Other than the rig, the room only had two doors; one to enter from the outside, and the one to enter from my room, where the rest of my personal living things were. Naturally, he lived with me. Apprentice rights and all of that.

"I'm ready, Aunt." He chirped in a chipper tone.

Despite having lost both his creators, the mechling had proven to have endless cheer. Perhaps it was a mask to hide his pain- but it served his purpose, and eventually I think even he began to believe he was happy. Or, at least that he was experiencing a mockery of true happiness.

"Today will be different." I began, padding closer quietly. I settled down onto my knees in front of him, and peered into a reflection of my sister's face. He was so hauntingly like the ones I had seen and lost that it was almost painful at times. I pushed those thoughts away sharply, and watched as he gave me a curious look.

"But I haven't mastered the seven rules yet." Confusion crosses his face. "I know it's taking me a while, but I'll get it down soon, I promise."

"I know you will." I gave him an affectionate pat on the head, to which he leans his helm into. As much as I wasn't fond of physical touch, he had proven to be desperately needy of it at times. I recalled upon my memories of my carrier and sire when this came to pass. They had always made sure to touch me, to hold me, and to show me affection no matter what happened.

So I afforded him the same. He was given affection whenever he wished, be it in front of others, or in private. I was going to try and at least make this bearable for him.

"Then why are we doing something different?"

"I haven't been using one thing on you, Jazz." Flexing my digits, I let my poison pool into them. Some of it dribbled out, and I cradled it in my palm so he could see.

"Venom?" He blinks. His servos twitch as if they want to touch it, but the chains keep him bound and spread out.

I nod. "Yes. It runs in my energon. It is an anomaly in our lineage. Some small portion of it runs through our energon, and some of us can strengthen the portion of it that does by careful application and experimentation with poisons and toxins. Though… Your carrier never got any form of training with it."

"What does that mean for me?"

"You've got a highly diluted concentration of it." The explanation came easy. "It's possible that you'll have a harder time handling it, which is why we're doing it now while you're still relatively young. The older you are, the harder it is for you to get acclimated to such toxins." Though there was always the slight risk that he wouldn't be able to handle them- but it was such a small chance, really.

"Oh." He looks concerned for a moment, before he hides it with a beaming smile. "Okay. I understand that it'll hurt- so it will be good practice for the seven rules too, right?"

I nod. Time is not wasted, and I take the moment to jab my claws into the soft part of his neck. The tips poked into his lines, and I gave him the most mild dose of my general toxin that I could.

He kept that cool smile on his face, and looked at me for approval. He was surprisingly vested in making sure he made me proud- and part of me wondered if it came from trying to live up to my expectations.

"You've done very well with the first rule," The praise falls from my lips easily, and I pet his cheek softly. "Though it is unnecessary. Toxins training always comes with breaking the rules, Jazz. I will not hold it against you this time. For now, I want you to focus on surviving. This is the first dose. It should begin to burn and hurt some. Once it's had time to pulse through your lines, I'll administer the second dose."

Jazz's smile wavers, but he stubbornly keeps it in place. "I'll hold on for as long as I can." he promises. He shifts, rolling his tiny shoulder joint with a huff. "It burns a bit. Sort of tingles too."

"It will do that."

Time creeps by as I watch him. He whistles a merry tune as he waits. His servos shake, but he doesn't seem to notice. Jazz remains this way through several smaller doses, though his whistle becomes slightly forced as time goes on. The dose goes up in small increments, and so does his shaking.

"Really starting to hurt." He comments choppily, vocals cracking lightly. "Really, really starting."

"Just let it flow. Pain is your friend- the most honest friend that you will ever have." I soothed a hand over his helm lightly, and injected along his neck again. The energon lines were easily replaced there, after all.

He groaned softly, smile falling from his lips. He leans into my touch, and I smooth my hands over his helm again to keep him relaxed. The shaking of his servos worsens, and it spreads. I watch his legs tremble, and his arms quiver. He sags against the chains, unable to hold himself up.

Another injection yields a soft keening sound that tears at my spark. How had Windstrider managed to do this to me? I was hardened- I could kill, I could torture, I could do the same to younglings, elders, newborns, and it didn't matter. But family was family- and watching the blood of my blood suffer was a sort of self-torture apparently.

But it was for his eventual safety, so I stuck through the sounds that wrenched at my spark. It's little wonder my sister died- I don't think I could have done this to her.

"Stay awake," I say firmly, gently lifting his helm as it sags. His visor glows at me, and I see the corners of his little mouth quiver. "Don't cry. Just stay awake and listen to my voice. I'll give you something to focus on. When we reach twenty, we will call it good for today and you can relax."

By then, he would need the antitoxin to my venom.

I don't really talk about anything in particular, but I keep a steady stream of chatter up. I'm not entirely certain that he hears all of it, but his visor stares up at my face. His lips quiver again, and I don't bother moving as he suddenly gags.

His morning fuel is tossed over my kneecaps, and I hum soothingly.

"S-something's wrong," he warbles softly.

"This is nothing like you've dealt with before. Your frame is not used to it in this quantity." Another spurt of venom puts him at nineteen total injections. Not nearly the quantity that I had taken per injection from my Uncle- but it was sufficient for one of his size. I was no doubt more toxic than my uncle could ever have been.

He coughs, and glowing foam gathers at the edge of his mouth. He chokes on it a bit, but it joins the puddle of purge splattered between us. Foam wasn't supposed to happen- particularly not in that color on the first day. It's… Concerning. But really, not something I didn't expect. Jazz makes it through one more injection- but I cave to what my spark wants, and inject the antivenin instead of the last dose of toxin- before he collapses fully into the chains. I ease him out of them as he spasms slightly, and settle him into my arms.

"Easy," The murmured words leave me easily, "that feeling is the toxin being neutralized. You'll be okay." I soothe as he gives a choked cry. The feeling of toxins being neutralized was a strange sensation indeed… And often it was agonizingly painful. A soft croon pulls from my vocals, and I rock him gently as he trembles in my lap. "You might have too diluted of a bloodline to be able to do this, Jazz."

"I'm sorry," he warbles with a soft cry. "I did what you said…"

"It is my fault, little bit. I overlooked a problem with this idea- and with your energon. I forgot that your base toxins would not be able to handle my energon as it is now." It wasn't unheard of, and since I hadn't done the proper training with Jaderush, he hadn't inherited the direct dose through gestation.

"So no poison?"

"No poison, Jazz."

I rub the small horns on his helm with a soft hum as he slowly calms his shakes. He would just have to learn to fight other ways. Poison was fun and all, and super useful, but it would make it easier for him to seek medical treatment if his very essence wasn't a toxic poison that in general would require being mega careful. It might, in the long run, mean he would survive if they didn't have to use emergency contamination measures when he needed immediate care.

"I… know I failed." He says a moment later. "I might have not heard all you were talking about, but… I know that wasn't twenty doses of your venom." His visor retracts with a soft click, and I pet his cheek affectionately. The multi-hued colors of his optics are agonizingly familiar, bringing back memories of when I was in his age. They're dim- no doubt from the pain he's still dealing with in his energon lines. Some of my toxin is corrosive, after all. "Are you angry, Aunt?"

"Not at all." And I honestly wasn't. It would help him if he could handle my venom- and develop his own strain, but if he couldn't… Well, there was nothing to be done. He would have a slightly higher resistance to drugs, to high grade, to pretty much anything that affects the energon even without it, but it would only be a minor resistance. "Not at all. I just want you to be able to defend yourself. The toxin would help, but is not necessary."

"Okay…" He sighs and his visor slides down again. His lips tilt back into their usual smile, and he murmurs softly. "I'm really tired, Aunt."

"You did well. You'll have several days to rest after this."

"I will?"

Nodding, I shift him in my arms and stand. He's relatively easy to hold, as small as he is. I head for the washracks in my room to go rinse us both off. Purge doesn't bother me, but I don't want it in our beds. "Yes. I have a mission from Sentinel. I leave as soon as you're taken care of."

"Is it something I can know about? Or top secret stuff?"

"Fairly common knowledge, actually. A predacon nest has been discovered- A rather pesky Venomfang is setting up shop and is causing a whole lot of trouble for the merchants trying to travel the roads to Kaon. I'm being sent to handle the problem."

As the name- Venomfang predacon, that is- suggests, I am the one best suited to handling it. They're highly toxic. Their bite, their blood, their flames, everything that they create and are made of is toxic to most mecha. They're not very large for a Predacon, and are entirely flightless. They've got wings- but they're vestigial for the most part. Good for intimidation, but other than that, Venomfangs are too stocky for their wings to lift them from the ground. Usually, from the pictures I had seen in various files of ones that had been put down, they were some form of red or yellow. Rarely, you could find a green or a black one. Those were usually the most toxic.

But, like most Predacons now, they were very rare anymore.

He frowns. "I thought they were all supposed to be extinct."

"Not quite. They will be soon though, if they keep encroaching on cities and settlements.

"Are you sure you can handle one of these Venomfangs?"

I laugh, turning on the coolant inside the shower to rinse us off. "Kid, you know me pretty well by now. I'm probably the most toxic thing left on this planet. I'll handle it, and be home before you know it."

He goes quiet as I clean us both off, and he's silent up until I get him to his berth. "You leave now, yeah?"

"I do." I nod. He's tucked in gently, and I take a moment to place a cube of energon on his bedside table. "You'll probably get sick a couple more times, so keep up on your coolant. The one dose should be enough- but if you're not back to normal in three days, another dose is in my nightstand."

Once he nods to me, I lean down and press a soft smooch to the top of his helm. "Be safe, Aunt." He murmurs tiredly. "And bring me a souvenir."