Fiction

"ALWAYS DEFENSOR" The Protectobots had become plastic soldiers in a die-cast war. Their leader, Hotspot, stood awkwardly before his commanding officer. He was feeling typically frustrated at Prowl and his well-rehearsed lectures. “We are but visitors, Hotspot,” Prowl said. “The humans, their world are unknown variables.” Continue reading

"A CAUSAL-LOOP CHRISTMAS" Rattrap sat, with slumped shoulders and chin in cupped hands, watching the snow fall. Thick frost had crawled across the outermost layer of glass on the port-side window that separated the Axalon’s control room from the white, barren world outside. The snow fell slowly, like a dusting of icing sugar. Peering down, he could see that the tracks left by Airazor and Tigatron had already been covered over. Continue reading

"FOLLOW MY RUIN" Trailbreaker sat alone in the deserted lobby of the Central Iacon Athenaeum. Once home of the Autobots’ most treasured and sacred dataspools, it was a derelict shell now. Trailbreaker hoped the brief moments of solitude would help detach him from the planetary ataxia that had consumed his kind. With eyes shut and fingers knitted tightly, he bowed his head and prayed. Twisted faces melted across the periphery of his vision, crying out for help. The guilt within his circuitry rose to intolerable levels. Continue reading