I love the TFA series, but there was a lot of loop-holes that made me feel unsatisfied. I understand that the directors did that so the audience can make what they may of it. So, here's what I think it should have gone. This starts directly after Endgame Part II, and I will finish it within four "seasons" or fanfictions of mine. I'll try to keep the humor the same, but this will be darker than the series. I'm very macabre like that. It won't be as bad as what I would normally write, but it will be dark. I'll also add some stuff that I have found out about the proposed season four in this.

And I recently heard that there was a comic out for TFA. I had not read it or seen it. So I suppose this is an AU. *shrug* Does anyone know where I can find it?

BTW, happy holidays. :) You all be safe now.

Enjoy.

Sagacity of the Existence

Home

I

The roars of glee still rippled over the crowd continuously, making Optimus Prime and his band of misfit Autobots feel warm and proud all at once. Optimus turned to his friends, and gave them an approving nod of his helm as he had the firm grip on the Magnus Hammer. He then turned back to the crowd, and his optics landed upon the optics of Sentinel Prime—no, Magnus. The new Magnus frowned sternly before he approached the Prime, and they stared at each other for a stale moment; the roars of the crowd seemed to fade away. Sentinal's blue optics drank in Optimus' disheveled state—his cracked metal frame, faceplates, and glowing blue optics. His optics then landed upon the tall metal hammer that was gripped in the Prime's servo.

"Give me the hammer," Sentinel stated, offering his servo palm-up.

Optimus stared at the Magnus for a moment, and then complied after that long pause. The Magnus took the handle of the hammer, and gripped it tightly. Sentinel's optics then moved to stare at the Allspark Matrix that hung from the Prime's neck. The shards of the Allspark glowed softly.

"Are those shards of the Allspark?"

"Yes," Optimus answered.

"Give it to me."

Optimus narrowed his optics, staring at the strong-chinned Autobot Elite Guard. Sentinel twitched angrily, and held out his palm roughly.

"That was an order, Optimus," the Magnus hissed, gritting his dentals together.

The Autobot turned his helm to his friends, and they gave him uncertain stares. Optimus then rotated his helm to Sentinel, and he removed the Allspark Matrix from his neck, and gave it to the Magnus. Sentinel snatched it from Optimus' docile grip, and placed it upon his own neck. Sentinel then turned to stare at the large Decepticon—Megatron. Red optics glared daggers at the Magnus, and Sentinel smirked. Lugnut and Shockwave stood off to the side, not daring to look at the Magnus. Sentinel shifted under Megatron's hard stare, and his frown only thickened.

"Good job," Sentinel muttered to Optimus.

"Thank you," the blue and red Autobot stated.

Sentinel bobbed his helm, and turned around, waving down his hand to call upon the Elite Guard members to take Megatron, Lugnut, and Shockwave into custody. The crowd continued to cheer as they watched Megatron, Lugnut, and Shockwave be led away and into another ship to be sent to jail to join the others that had been caught, and to await their trial. Megatron continued to glare at the audience, and when the ship's door sealed him and the captured Decepticons away, the cheers got louder. Optimus moved over to the encased shell that held Prowl, and the Autobot rested his hand on top of the glass.

"Our friend needs to be put to rest," the Prime stated firmly. "Please, where can we put him before we send him to his final resting place."

Sentinel stared at Prowl's monochromatic shell, and just stared at him for a moment. The ninja had gone offline? Blinking his optics, he gave a curt nod of his helm, and he led the way to the main building of the Elite Guard. They walked along, the wonderful cacophony of happy noise echoed in the alien atmosphere, and they moved to the large building (the Metroplex, the large building that held the High Council meetings). Autobots were still cheering as they entered the building as the cheering started to die slowly as the others got out of reach of hearing the audience. Sentinel was deathly silent as he walked along—his hand still gripping the Magnus Hammer tightly. His metallic mouth was a flat line, and his optics was dark despite their bright colour. Not a single person—or 'bot—spoke. Sari looked down at Prowl's still body, a frown behind her faceplate. She had lost her friend and mentor. The techno-human looked away, still unable to look at him out of the sadness she felt for losing him. Her hands gripped the handles of her jetpack as she moved along. Sentinel approached a door, and after he punched in some numbers on a pad, those said doors opened.

"Medics," the Magnus called roughly.

Two femme Autobot medics came from the room, and approached him. One femme's model was a pale green and a darker shade of green along the sides. And the other femme's model was a pure white with stripes of silver on her helm and hands.

"Yes, sir," the green femme said.

"Do we have any more room downstairs for spark-less shells?" he asked.

"I will go check," the white one replied as she went to a computer and started to type away. "Yes, we have some room. Five slots."

Sari glanced within the room the femmes were in, and noticed it was like a repair shop. Autobots that varied among sizes sat on berths, and all were getting treated for their wounds. Medics—both male and female Cybertronians—moved about on the hard metal floor. Sentinel turned to Optimus, and looked at the Autobot.

"You look horrible," Sentinel stated, a frown still stretched across his faceplates. "Get in there and get fixed up."

"Thank you," the Prime stated. He turned around, approached Prowl's spark-less shell, and silently paid his respects for a few kliks before he went into the repair room.

The green femme smiled at Optimus as she led him along. Sentinel frowned, and closed the door as he walked away from the room. "This way," he called to the other Autobots.

Ratchet groaned, but moved along. Arcee, who walked along beside the older robot, turned to look at him worriedly. "Are you okay, Ratchet?" she asked gently.

He grunted as his optics turned to look at her worried-filled ones. He forced a smile on his faceplates, and then shrugged his large shoulders. "Hey, it's nothing—I'm fine," Ratchet said, staring at the femme softly.

A frown creased her metal lips. She, reluctantly, let her worry subside. Her gaze then landed on Sari—the first organic she had ever met. Ever since she had awoken from her long-time stasis, she was curious about what she had missed. And mostly, she was curious about the planet she was on before. Arcee reached out with her slender servo, and gently scooped up the levitating techno-organic. Sari let out a gasp, and her jetpack ceased to work and her faceplates vanished. She glanced to Arcee with a surprised expression, who smiled down at her gently.

"Are you okay, Sari?" she asked.

Red brows furrowed, and the techno-organic turned back to Prowl's spark-less body. "Just a little sad," she whispered.

Arcee glanced at the ninja body, her optics taking in his elegant and perfect model. "He seemed like a nice mech," she whispered in return.

"He was," Sari said, her fingers lacing together. "You would've liked him."

Acree stared at the little organic in the palm of her servo. This little femme seemed like she was very close to this mech, and she was in a lot of emotional pain. Bumblebee rotated his helm to look at his dear friend, and a frown creased his faceplate. It looked as if he wanted to say something, but he had refrained from doing so. The pink femme Autobot continued to cup the human in her palm, held her to her chest-plate near her spark, and she decided not to speak—just let her actions do the talking. Ratchet watched with a stiff-lip, and continued to follow the young Magnus. Sentinel would glance over his shoulder plating, and stared at the group of Autobots. He seemed peeved and mad—like his ego had been bruised or something. He shuffled his pedes, and his movement picked up speed.

After a few levels, they reached the underground levels of the building. Each shell-resting level was marked in Cybertronian—Arcee read each level name to the inquisitive Sari, who still sat in the palm of her hand. After Alpha, Minor, they reached Beta. Beta level was where Prowl's shell would be rested until further notice. Sentinel tapped his digits on the keypad, and the large metal doors opened up. The room inside had rows of empty shells sealed within large metal and glass containers—all unfortunate Autobots. Sari gasped, realizing just how many lives had been lost during the fighting against the Decepticons. Arcee, Ratchet, Bumblebee, Bulkhead, and even Jazz looked astonished by the body toll. Sentinel turned to the Autobots holding Prowl's empty shell, and arched a metal brow.

"There are five slots," he muttered. "Pick one and put him away."

The Autobots that held the container moved forward, and searched for a proper spot to place their friend. Sentinel's optics turned to stare at Sari, who was still sitting in Arcee's palm quaintly. He let out a disgusted growl, and she arched a peeved brow to him. He turned his helm from her, and she smirked at him smugly. She then turned to stare at her friends placing Prowl's body away, that smirk of hers fell from her lips as a frown took its place. She was going to miss him.

"We'll be back for you, buddy," Bumblebee said, resting his servo upon the large case that held Prowl's shell.

"Yah, mech," Jazz said, staring at his fellow Cyber Ninja.

Ratchet's blue optics turned to stare at the white-silver Autobot, and he patted Jazz's shoulder plating comfortingly. Jazz smiled slightly, and bobbed his helm.

"See ya, Prowl," Bulkhead said as he walked away from the shell, his helm slumped.

"You were a good kid," Ratchet stated, following Bulkhead.

One by one, the Autobots left after saying their goodbyes and left the room, Sentinel Magnus closed the doors. There was an awkward silence before the new Magnus cleared his voice.

"I suppose the Council will want to talk to you," Sentinel muttered.

"When?" Bumblebee inquired.

"I don't slagging know," the Magnus snapped, staring at the yellow Autobot hard. "I suppose I should go meet with them . . ."

"So, should we stay here for the night?" Bulkhead asked, tapping his fat digits together.

"Yes," the Magnus grumbled, his digits were drumming on the handle of the Magnus Hammer. "I will find a suitable place for you, your friends, and your—organic filth."

Sari growled, her little fists gripping her dress. "I'm not filth, Sentinel," she hissed, the little hairs on the back of her head stood erect. "Knock it off with that racist crap, okay?"

"That's Sentinel Magnus to you, organic," the large blue Autobot sneered, his optics narrowing at the redhead in Arcee's palm.

"Hey, c'mon, leave her alone," Bumblebee quickly said. He glared at the strong-chinned Autobot before him. "Why don't you try to can it, eh?"

"Watch it, Bumblebee," Sentinel growled, stepping forward to make the smaller Autobot. "Remember your place, you Elite Guard wannabe."

Bumblebee's faceplates twitched violently, and before he could say anything, Jazz quickly slipped in between them—suddenly becoming the peacemaker. "Hey, SM and BB," he said in a cool voice. "Let's all jus' relax, yah dig?"

Bumblebee and Sentinel turned to stare at Jazz, who kept silent but smiled coolly at the two. The smaller yellow 'bot shook his helm, and looked to Sari, who smiled and had a faint blush about her dark cheeks. She mouthed a "thank you." Bumblebee shrugged in return as he approached the pink femme that was holding her. Offering his hand, Sari stepped into it and the smaller 'bot placed her upon his shoulder plating.

"Um, perhaps we should check on Optimus," Bulkhead quickly suggested.

"Sounds like a plan t'me," Jazz said, and he slowly turned to stare at his boss. "What do yah think, SM?"

Sentinel let out a huff from his rumbling engine. "Fine, let's go see him," he muttered, and he strode away, going back to where Optimus Prime had been left. The others soon followed.

Sari rubbed at the back of her head, and voiced a sigh. "What crawled up his pipes and died?" she muttered, crossing her slender arms over her chest.

"Eh, it's SM," Jazz said in a nonchalant fashion as he shrugged his large shoulders. "Jus' the usual."

Bumblebee then perked up, and leaned in close to Sari. "Maybe he's mad because we caught Megatron and he didn't," he snickered.

Bulkhead chuckled deeply. "Sounds like something he would do," he said.

Sari lightly grinned at the thought. "Probably, I wouldn't be surprised," she mused.

Ratchet moved slowly, and Arcee walked shoulder-to-shoulder next to him. She moved closer to him, and spoke in a soft voice: "Does he always act like that?"

Ratchet arched a metallic brow, and then let out a snort. "Arcee, you have no idea," he muttered. "You've only seen a little of the extremely annoying qualities that 'bot has."

"Ow. Ow."

"Sorry," the medic whispered as he welded the sensitive faceplates together to banish the deep cracks that etched his face.

Optimus tried to keep still as the dull throbbing of pain pulsated through his body. Circuits were flaring, and his gritted his dentals to minimize the pain. The nurse continued to weld the metal closer together—though it seemed that there may be scars left. Maybe. Well, if the nurse continued to do his work perfectly, he could succeed.

"I'm almost there, sir," the medic stated, his hot welder creating sparks of yellow and white.

Optimus only hummed. He twitched as the welding warmed his faceplate together—the cracks were becoming thinner and thinner. The Autobot leader glanced around, watching the nurses tend to their patients. There were still Decepticons out there, and the war hadn't really stopped, it was only on hiatus.

"Hey, Boss-bot," called a familiar voice.

Sky-blue optics turned up to see his friends approaching him, and Sentiel was not too far behind. A shy smile tugged at the corners of Optimus' mouth.

"Hello," the red and blue Cybertronian stated calmly.

"Hey, kid, how are you feeling," Ratchet asked, placing his hands to his metallic hips.

"Better," Optimus responded as the nurse continued to work. "Is Prowl's . . . shell in a safe place?"

"Yeah, he's safe," Sari responded, her hands on her lap. "He's okay. He's in Beta level."

"Good," Optimus said, tapping his digits on his lower servo. His blue optics turned up to stare at Sentinel. "How is Ultra, Sentinel?"

The strong-chinned Autobot narrowed his optics at the 'bot before him. "His condition is critical, but stable," he answered. "He still hasn't awaken from his stasis—he's still in the Cybertron Central Unfirmary."

A cold chill ran around in Optimus' hard drive, and his optics turned away from Sentinel. Ultra was still considerably damaged, and there may be a chance that he may go offline. That was a horrifying thought to think. His chassis shuddered, and his hand ran across his upper servo. He didn't know what to say—how could he respond? Sentinel shifted, and cleared his vocals.

"Well, I'm going to talk to the High Council," Sentinel stated. "I'm pretty sure that they would love to speak to you and your lackeys." The group glared daggers at the Magnus, and he shifted as his grip on the Magnus Hammer tightened. "I'll go do that after I show you your rooms, I suppose," he muttered, tapping his pede on the hard floor. "I hate being the chauffer . . ."

Jazz peered over, and shuffled his pedes across the hard floor. "Hey, SM," he began, a smile tugging at his lips. "I can show 'em to their rooms, if yah like."

Sari whirled her head slowly around, because she could feel the piercing stares of the Autobots behind her. They were staring at her, slack-jawed and optics wide. Some of them were muttering amongst each other while they looked directly at her. She did not say a word, but she bit her lower lip, only imagining what they were saying about her. Sentinel let out a grunt, and gave a single bob of his helm.

"Fine, Jazz, show them to their rooms," he said roughly. "I'll go speak to the Council." He looked at Optimus for a moment, and then he was gone.

Optimus frowned, and the doctor had paused in his welding. His optics was upon the human perched upon Bumblebee's shoulder, and he had just focused on her. Sari shifted uncomfortably under his stare, and she frowned sternly.

"Would you quit staring at me?" she snapped the question.

The medic flinched, his stare piercing. He turned to stare at the yellow Autobot, and spoke: "Why do you have that thing touching you?"

Bumblebee rolled his optics, and a displeased grunt could be heard from Ratchet. "First off, everybot," the yellow Autobot said, shifting to stare at all the medics and Autobots that were within the room, "organics aren't filthy, and they can't spew any slime or whatever you've all heard."

The Autobots shared stares, until one spoke: "But Sentinel Magnus said—"

"He lied," Ratchet said around a scowl. "He's just putting his own lackadaisical attitude with organics on the public."

"Yeah," Bulkhead said with a smile. "Organics are fine."

Sari nodded her head curtly, and her arms crossed over her chest. "If anything, we organics are more lethal to each other than to you," she said. "You can't get affected by organic diseases."

It seemed as if the Autobots were trying to process the information that had been thrust upon them. Some spoke to each other in side-mouthed whispers.

"And, besides, some organics even helped fight the Decepticons," Ratchet said, crossing his arms over his chest-plating. "Like Sari here and others back on her planet."

That seemed to won them over. Ratchet gave a light smirk as the Autobots looked to Sari with pleased and surprised expressions. Acree reached across, brushing her nimble servo across Ratchet's shoulder-plating, and they met with a stare. She seemed befuddled.

"What were they talking about when they were saying that organics are filthy?" she whispered the question.

"Err, just Sentinel being a glitch," Ratchet muttered, waving his hand in the air dismissively.

Arcee blinked her optics, stared at the older Cybertronian for a moment, and then looked away to stare at Sari. Some of the Autobots that were either medics that had completed their work or patients well enough to move approached Bumblebee and Sari, and asked questions. The once hatred for the little organic perched on the yellow Autobot's shoulder-plating was now replaced with curiousness and interest. One Autobot with a model similar to Bumblebee's stood off in the distance. His surprisingly bright green optics stared at the organic with apprehension as he held his data-pad ridiculously close to his chest-plating. It looked as if he wanted to ask a few questions, but he kept silent and watched the group from afar, like he was shy or something like that. He noticed Ratchet's stare, and quickly turned away from the older Autobot, and pretended to be very interested on what was on his data-pad. However, his green optics would glance up from his data-pad at to Sari and Bumblebee.

"So, you organics, what is your species called?" asked an Autobot. "Humans, right?"

"Yes, homo sapiens—human," Sari said with a smile tugging at her lips.

"You're so small," a femme said, waving a pointer digit in the air. "Are all you organics small?"

"Maybe to you, yeah," Sari answered. "But organics in the past were bigger than you."

"What were they called?" asked a mech.

"Dinosaurs," she replied.

She spoke on about ancient organics and her world, meanwhile Optimus' medic was applying the finishing touches to the Prime's metal frame. "There, all done," he said to the Prime.

Optimus rubbed at his fresh-looking metal frame, and smiled. "Thank you," he said.

The medic nodded his helm. "Be careful next time, Optimus Prime," the medic stated with a small smile.

"Will do," the Prime said with a grin.

Optimus stood up, and stretched out his arms and servos. He felt better, though his body still ached. A good night of sleep would do his body well.

"How you feel, kid," Ratchet asked.

"Better," Optimus Prime answered. "I just need a good night of sleep."

"Yeah, I think we all do," Bulkhead stated, rubbing the back of his helm with his large claw.

"Then let me show yah t' yah rooms, eh?" Jazz asked, a smooth smile forming on his lips. "Does that sound good?"

"Yeah, it does sound good, kid," Ratchet muttered, rubbing his cheek tiredly. "We're beat."

Jazz chuckled. "Sure thing," he said, turning on his heel, and approached the doorway. He paused, and turned to stare at the others. "OP, you okay?"

Optimus Prime stretched out his body, and his optics met with Jazz's sky-blue visor. "Yeah, just stretching," he said. "Let's get going. Bumblebee? Sari? Time to go."

Bumblebee and Sari turned to the group of friends, and Bumblebee bobbed his helm. "Coming," he called. He turned to the group, and beamed. "Hey, we gotta split. We'll answer your questions later if we see you again. Okay?"

"Yeah, sure," one mech stated.

"Sounds good," another said.

"Alright, then, see ya!" Bumblebee stated, waving his servo goodbye and him and the techno-organic followed the others out of the ward.

Green optics watched them leave, and their owner felt ashamed that he had not gone up to them to speak to them. His digits rubbed against his data-pad, and frowned deeply. He hated being so shy. Ion was right: he had to get some 'bot skills.

Oh, just so you know: I loathe Sentinel Prime (he does not deserve to be called "Magnus," only Ultra can be called that). So I'm going to do all sorts of torturous crap to him. I won't kill him, though.

Killing is too good for him. He should be tortured. By organics—by birds. Attack of the birds.

Also, I'm going to use a lot of the Cybertronian terms, but with anatomy, I wasn't so sure. But here's what I am going with:

arms: arms

legs: legs

servoss: hands

Pede: foot

Digits: fingers

Optics: eyes

Helm (informal: head): head

Audios: ears/hearing

And there are others. I'll list them later.