Before getting stuck in my battle mode, I had on; a red jacket with black stripes, a sleeveless green shirt, the collar around my neck, dark jeans, and shoes without strings.  Since I’ve been stuck in my battle mode (Which has change in design, slightly), I’ve discovered a little more kinks to it; my legs had become motorcycle wheels, my feet became high heel things, I have a chest plating similar to a truck with a green second area underneath it like a jacket covering a red spark...I know, that’s supernatural that I have a red spark when I hadn’t gotten the symbol yet. My right hand has a red-bull-like horn shaped energon sword thing attached. My shoulders have one black stripe connecting to these shoulder armor; my neck collar is shaped like a Jacket Colar being black.  Why is this relevant? I can’t transform my weapon into a hand. Notice the significance, battle weapon vs hand in trying to reach something.

            So this is where things might go, you know, a bit tipsy hectic. Anyone can guess how hectic it can get; just add a really dangerous Techno-organic, two gigantic robots who are capable of killing, know one of them is a ninja and the other is a mad-scientist, then finally put it into the calculator.  Being on a wide, dark gray table with straps keeping me down is another hard thing to do a math equation over with a bunch of tubes attached to my helmet’s revealed areas.

            …Great I got an itch on my nose.  “This…can’t be possible.” Ratchet is looking from the computer screen. He turns himself around towards my direction. “He can’t be alive,Prowl and  Jazz killed the disgusting-dumb-corpse!”

            “Um…” I totally saw how absurd he sounded using the words ‘killed’ and ‘corpse’ in the same sentence. “Correction, you can’t kill a corpse…but you can kill a zombie!”

            Ratchet’s scarred optic looks at me.

            “You should know the differences between a corpse being non-living and zombies being the undead who are capable of being shot at the head so they can be truly dead.” I finished.  I have to admit, watching Zombie Movies on HBO has a bad side effect correcting the bad guys when they insult some-one they hate.  “Don’t use corpse and killed in the same sentence. You have already killed the chicken  once already; you can’t kill a dead, dead, generally dead corpse.”

            “By the time I’m done with your sleeze-bag body,” Ratchet ‘s large digits were sending in commands to wide tabs. “You won’t have the ability to walk or speak!” I saw my memory, where I had the bicycle accident sort of change from being  guided to me basically shredding away like figments of data from the most popular cartoon called Digimon, where digi-destients were brought to thrawt the missions of good guys to  keep the digi-world intact.   Instead of riding I fell to the ground grabbing  both my feet, something was being rewired in my body systems and it was uncalled for.

            Every memory was being changed, and my body showed it. I didn’t need to be out to have this verified; I know it because it’s really…natural for a body to be displaying pain or changes. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” I saw the image of myself in a dark void like in atom s, sizzling like a digital image mentioned several  times in various media sources. My name is Adam Henderson. I crashed my bike on an orange shard. It’s not addisoun!  Fur replaced every skin visible area all  over my body....I saw myself get features like a yeti would get.  I’m not  a YETI!  “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH”

            And then I saw a memory…

“This test run is a failure, throw the protoform out!” A loud, demeaning deep voice announced. He had a big hammer that stuck out from the shadows. I couldn’t see him. Males have deep voices when they grow up from high pitched teenagers to men with deep voices. It’s not hard to tell which scream is high and loud if they both did it at once. “For a rough draft of the new project, we should halt any more production on it.”

            I saw a two pairs of red optics turn towards this figure. “Ultra Magnus…Do  you realize if we throw it into the bridge, this protoform may  get regenerated into a another being with these unsuccessful virus—“

            “I understand this, I just want out of my sight!” He slammed the big hammer on the ground. “Do as I say.”

            Protoform? I saw this strange-looking baby-like material sucking it’s thumb. Awww they are so cute. The Protoform looked human for its size. There were several round holes around the head area. I can’t be sure if this is a generally real memory since Ratchet is doingwhatever he wants on me. …Wait…Does it have?....It had a death skull  symbol on it’s  right shoulder. I looked to my shoulder that quickly got un-armorized. I have the same symbol. I’ve had it since birth.  That’s…me. Now I don’t know what the Shard did…but...it could have possibly rebooted my cybertronian side online.  I’m not just a boy who…got a power shard thing into his foot that made him a Techno-organic, I’m a boy who was given the truth by my bicycle accident. The shard was just a needle in a hay stack chance it could have come into my life.

            That…when I was born; my body had everything figured out not genetics of my parents looks, maybe a day before mom went into  labor the protoform somehow merged with the child developing in her...changing the protoform into a human fetus ready to come. “It will be somebody else’s problem.” The other Autobot muttered to itself, turning away from Ultra Magnus.  I saw him looking at the Protoform. “Little one, you won’t have an easy life. That’s for sure.”

            My assumption can be wrong about the merging part, I’m not a science geek; I just guess and assume, as I had been taught in Science Classes. I just knew what I had been taught. So I know a little about reproduction. …So this entire time…That script…It actually initiated my flaw, my unsuccessful program nobody wanted to do deal with. I’m just a mistake, I am. That’s really not a joke.  

I watched the memory event fade.  Fur was no longer over my body…It looked freaky as in horrorfying creepy!  The memories and happy moments I had in life were slowly being deleted, I was forgetting them. Losing them like a string being sawed off a rope. Adam Henderson, save those memories!  My focus went straight into a system-restore like style; I saw a blue screen and a big box. Back up memories. Save every one of them. A virus is capable of disguising itself. So try disguising yourself without any help from machines.

“Memorie file has been backed up.”

I sit down. “Alright feet…even though I am in my subconscious…” I found it a little awkward speaking to an unanimate part of my body. “Deject Allspark Shard from  foot.” I just said Allspark Shard…What’s that? I don’t think I learned about it…yet. The next part is to wait. Yes, wait.

 Very patiently; I’m not too good at waiting.

            “An Allspark shard!” Ratchet’s voice broke into my subconscious. I know it’s impossible in the laws of physics and what not, but clearly possible in the cases of somebody being in a coma. I am not in a coma.  Being in my current state I could hear wheels and large snowplow tires roll into the room.  I guess I’m somewhere in the sleeping and awake zone.

            Ratchet smirked.

            Then I heard an unpleasant reaction. “Sentinel, why did you bring Elita-1 here!”  That’s a strange name for a cybertronian,Elita-1. Her name sounded as if a significance to Ratchet over something in the past depending on his sound. It’s amazing what I can deduce from listening to hours of television without the screen being on.

            “I brought him here, he didn’t.” A snappy female voice came. “He’s so crackable he really is not a wake.”

            I heard a large thunk. Sentinel’s body likely fell  on the ground.  I haven’t seen him, pity, this sucks for relying on my other senses. It’s a real disadvantage when it bugs me to see who’s saying what or doing what.

            “You…regained your memories?”

            “How can I? It’s so obvious he’s lying about the mutated to a freak part!”  She makes a sound commonly referred to as being annoyed. “He’s so protective of Organics I just  ripped off his symbol after the remaining elite guard Councle had a meeting. They saw what he did to the little pooch.”

            Ratchet laughed. It’s…just really not a laugh you would want listening to for several hours. “This Techno-Organic, is the failed test subject for The Virus In its early stages.”  He tapped on my armor. “He may look unrecognizable now with the tweaking I’ve done to his adjustable-leather-empty body.”  Great, he still finds way to insult my body.  How long can their dictionary be?   

            Elita gasps.“But…It was thrown out!”

            “I know.”  I heard Ratchet come closer to my body.  He turns around.  “He didn’t get thrown out. The very opposite happened, Elita, and sometimes we do mistakes that costs great advantages in our future; He was thrown in!”

            Suddenly my senses went down.  There weren’t any more voices. What’s going on?  Sharp pain came from all over my body, specifically the areas that could have been adjusted by Ratchet. They were returning to their prior state. Gradually, control to my legs returned.  However, I was still in my subconscious.  Something feels new  in my programming. I do not know what it is. I just feel it. My sense of hearing returned, so I was able to hear motorcycle wheels going past the speed limit when making high pitched screeches.

            “Hey, watch out!” A human voice shouted off. “You are going to get yourself killed driving recklessly!”

            Vr-Vr-Vrrrrooom

            That sound belongs to another motorcycle chasing after the motorcycle having me on it.  Wait…could this be Beachswiper making her known? Nah, she wouldn’t go after me right when she just spilled the whole thing on me! Really doubtful.  People screamed and other animals were just going wild, as in Dogs and Cats being there. Not all animals were there.  

            “Stop right there, whoever you are!”

            I was wrong. That voice belongs to Beachswiper! I heard some mechanical sounds like some part s were moving to different places and a hologram was falling down from what it had been shielding.  Something fell. Something heavy fell to the ground. Something like a large pistol. “…Yo…You are dead.”

            “I was brought back,” Oh, this is the creepy Ninja dude Prowl.  “And you were in a statue last time I checked.”

            I heard people screaming. They are at some city area in Washington D.C.  I guess.

            “For  a dead Autobot, you sure still have the nerves to pick on me.” The Beachswiper I knew would have a scowl on her faceplate while picking up the pistol she had dropped out of shock. “Drop  the…Virus. You are already killing yourself, again.”

            Prowl may have a smirk on his face.

            “I’m dead.” He stated.  “He can’t shut me down. He’s unconscious.” ZEeeep-izz.“Still oblivious to your opponent in fog, you are such a weasel out of all the clones.” Clones? What clones?  They told nothing about clones, does this mean Beachswiper is a clone of this freaky cybertronian?

            Drip-Drop.

            When he said fog…Did he mean as in the place is foggy?

            “Enough chatting!”

             How long has it been since I became unconscious? SLAAAm! My body hit a hard wall and freely fell to the ground.  Prowl wasn’t holding me. Yet I heard metal clashes. A row of bullets hitting another separate wall all but missing their target. My head…hurts..again.....Focus on The Virus Programming, deactivate it. Even if it means shutting me down to accomplish this.  A large metal part wooshed by me could have been a leg or an arm.  Honestly, who would want to know?     

            “Programming shutting down, memory has been cleared, back up as been saved….extra features deactivating.”   The sound of car wheels come into the scene as the last few fighting exchanges between both Motorcycles were coming to a close.  Z-Z—ZZZIIZZZLE.  That’s Bumblebee’s stingers striking some-thing. Man, it feels good to get rid of your own hated power; being a virus.