"Decepticons… attack!" Megatron's call resounded from out of nowhere.

At the sound of the war cry, Sideswipe's fuel pump cycled frantically. He spun around on the dirt road outside Autobot Headquarters, looking for the enemy. Every servo in his body was tense and his systems brimmed with energy as he anticipated a fight. But there were no Decepticons. All was calm in the distance and the clear sky above was empty. His mechanisms relaxed for a moment, but re-energized when he heard the sound of engines roaring up the causeway behind him. He turned and saw a convoy of Autobots racing to battle, with Optimus Prime in the lead. They tore past him on both sides and left Sideswipe standing in a choking cloud of dust.

"Hurry up!" yelled Sunstreaker, but the brown cloud obscured Sideswipe's field of vision so he could not see his twin brother. "What's the matter? You getting too old for this?" Unseen, Sunstreaker laughed heartily.

The dust cloud thinned and revealed the yellow warrior standing tall as he looked away into the distance, an expression of fierce determination on his faceplate. Sideswipe watched, stunned, as his sleek brother transformed. His glossy, yellow body shifted in a pattern that Sideswipe did not recognize, impossibly contorting, twisting and folding into the small shape of a bicycle. Two carefree chimes from the handlebar bell signaled the charge to war. The yellow warrior's pedals turned and he gently cycled off after the others.

Sideswipe felt like he was made of lead as he watched Sunstreaker leave him behind. He struggled to follow Sunstreaker but it was difficult to move. The hydraulic pressure in his leg servo-mechanisms seemed to be bleeding away and weakening him. He gazed off into the distance at Sunstreaker, who cycled very slowly but disappeared quickly from sight.

Aggression coursed through the red warrior's systems as he focused on his leg mechanisms and forced himself to take one big step forward. He could not bear to be left out of a battle. But his anger and determination could not change the painfully slow response of his robot form. Frustrated, he transformed into his vehicle mode to search for Sunstreaker and the others.

His engine shuddered for a moment then made a wheezing noise as it turned over and rattled to life. Sideswipe struggled to gain speed as he drove along the dusty road. With each passing moment, his frame bounced more loosely over his suspension. Sideswipe knew that something was wrong, but he was too consumed with finding the others to pay attention to his strange symptoms. He had to find his brother.

He scanned the horizon as he lurched down the mountainside toward the valley floor, but the rocky landscape was vacant. Sideswipe grew desperate. His top speed was dreadfully slow. It was as though he was dragging a heavy weight behind him.

Traveling over the corrugated, rocky ground stressed the joint near his passenger side rear wheel assembly, flexing it uncomfortably. Having never felt so fragile, Sideswipe ran a systems check but could find no problem. Thinking his diagnostic computer must be glitched, Sideswipe visually assessed himself. He looked over his high hood contour at his boxy chrome grille and round headlights, then back along his side panels at the ugly faux wood pattern in the metal. As he followed the shape of his rear paneling higher to find a long, windowed cabin over two rows of back seats, the red warrior realized with horror that he was no longer the low, sleek form of a red Lamborghini Countach. Instead, he had become a station wagon.

This was more than the red warrior could comprehend. Panicked, Sideswipe's fuel pump surged but to no effect. He could not outrun his own vehicle form. Just then, his rear wheel touched down into a pothole and his pain center lit up. Braking hard, his tires skidded over the loose ground and his back end fishtailed. Road dust smothered him as he came to a sliding stop.

Sideswipe remained in vehicle mode, the pressure sensors in his bad joint aching from over-flexure. After a few minutes, the dust settled and Sideswipe scanned the area around him, the pain slowly subsiding. He was still alone. Where did everyone go? There were no Autobots or Decepticons anywhere. Confused, Sideswipe transformed back into his robot mode, mindful not to put too much weight onto his aching knee joint.

As he surveyed his surroundings, he was alarmed to find that the enormous volcano was still behind him, as if he had traveled no distance at all. His optics searched all over the side of Mount St. Hilary for the golden-orange shape of the Autobot base, but it was mysteriously absent, as if it had never existed. Shocked and confused, Sideswipe backed away from the mountain and stumbled. He quickly regained his footing and turned away from the mountain, only to find himself wandering through a forest.

As he looked around, he realized that he did not recognize the unfamiliar landscape. Most of the fir trees had dropped their needles and stood barren and dying all around him. Where am I? He stumbled again, the dry, orange needles crunching underfoot. The battle no longer mattered as he struggled to understand what was happening to him. A jolt of electricity shot through his pain center and he grimaced as his right knee joint acted up again. He tried to ignore it as he slowly circled to take in the skeletal forest surrounding him, but the leg collapsed underneath him and he plunged down onto the ground, catching himself on his hands. Sideswipe hung his head. The piston in his leg had seized and he could not move his foot for the moment.

He had to find a way out of this strange place. When the pressure pain in the joint subsided Sideswipe eased his leg out straight behind him. He carefully tested his leg hydraulics then slowly flexed his foot before standing back up. He blinked then lifted his optics and was surprised to find that the dying forest had disappeared and was replaced with the battlefield he had been seeking.

In the distance, the Autobots arrived at the edge of a bluff. Sideswipe contorted his faceplate as he watched them, not believing his optics. Things were not as they should be. Optimus Prime rolled to a stop then separated from his camper and transformed into the tall red and blue form of the Autobot commander. The age-stained, beige recreational vehicle he towed split lengthwise and folded open to reveal a typical human family sharing lunch at a picnic table. A golden Labrador retriever barreled out of the camper and charged toward Optimus, who appeared unaware of his canine companion.

"Loser," Sunstreaker spat at him, his optics emphatically flashing bright blue.

Sunstreaker's cutting remark stung. He shook his head in defiance and took a step toward Sunstreaker and the other Autobots. But the mechanism in his knee locked in mid-step and he stumbled. Sideswipe caught himself, but his error was not missed by his brother. Sunstreaker cocked his head in response, silently laughing at his crippled twin.

It was his leg, Sideswipe told himself, not he who was failing. He stood back upright and tried to take another step toward his twin, but metal ground against metal in the knee and a pressure spike suddenly shot through the hydraulic line from his lower leg straight up into the relief valve in his upper leg. His knee throbbing from hydraulic feedback, Sideswipe bent the joint to ease the strain and dropped his head in pain. His mind languished in self-doubt. While it was Sunny's nature to show he was the best, he never left Sideswipe behind, especially when the red warrior was injured. Closing his optics, Sideswipe wrangled with the notion that Sunny no longer accepted him because he was weak. That had to be it. Nothing else made any sense. With a crippling injury, Sideswipe realized, he would only hinder Sunny.

He had tried his best to hide the pain but it must have been clear to Sunny that the damage to his knee had gone too deep and could not be repaired. Sideswipe reeled as a wave of anguish washed over him. Sunny had left him behind to perish on his own. Separation from his twin brother tormented him more than death itself. It felt like he had been torn open and half of his core components removed. He could not function alone.

Sideswipe powered back up with a start. The deep golden-orange ceiling above came into focus and he turned his head to the side, gazing at his own soft blue optic glow reflecting off the ruddy-colored wall in shadow beside his bunk. He turned his head back to the front and covered his optics with one hand. It wasn't real.

"You online?" Sideswipe heard Sunstreaker ask from the bunk below.

"Yeah," Sideswipe answered, removing his hand from his face and turning onto his side. As he flexed his right knee, pain shot through the joint and he froze with an expression of pain on his faceplate.

Lying comfortably on his back, Sunstreaker's optic covers snapped open, alerted by Sideswipe's sudden halt in movement. "What's the matter?" The yellow warrior inquired as he focused his attention on the bunk above him.

At the sound of his brother's vocalizer, Sideswipe forgot his pain. "Uh…nothing," Sideswipe answered with a hint of hesitation. He relaxed the servo in his right leg and his expression turned to relief as the pressure in the joint released and the pain vanished.

Sunstreaker smiled to himself. "You were dreaming again, weren't you?"

The red warrior made a dismissive noise. "Are you kidding?" He asked sarcastically, quietly rubbing his sore knee joint. The joint had been problematic lately. He never bothered mentioning it to Ratchet after his last trip to medical bay for battle repairs and too much time had passed for him to go to Ratchet now. The last thing he was going to do was limp into medical bay complaining about an injury that he had been able to live with up until now. No, he was not going to show weakness. "You know I don't dream."

A minute later, first one and then two red and silver feet dangled over the edge of the upper bunk as Sideswipe carefully sat up so as to avoid aggravating the joint. Seated on his bunk, the red warrior swept his optics over himself, relieved to see that his alternate mode was still a Lamborghini.

The yellow warrior folded his golden-yellow hands neatly over his torso and stared at the Lamborghini tail lights on Sideswipe heels. He expected Sideswipe to jump down from his bunk and land beside him any moment, just like he did every morning. But instead, the two red legs carefully turned around to face Sunstreaker, and Sideswipe let himself down one foot at a time, using Sunstreaker's bunk as a step.

Sideswipe relaxed his frame, trying to act unfazed by his condition, as Sunny came into view. The right foot was difficult to move, just like in the dream.

Sunstreaker watched Sideswipe's every movement. He could read his twin like a book. "Something is wrong," he announced after briefly meeting Sideswipe's optics before the red Lambo turned and walked toward the other side of their room.

Sideswipe turned his head as he strode as casually as he could toward the desk and dismissed Sunstreaker's concern with a wave of his hand. "It's nothing. I just pinched a seal or something."

Sideswipe rummaged through the articles strewn on the desktop then opened up one of the drawers and began looking through it. Behind him, Sunstreaker rose and sat on the edge of his bunk, spreading his long, yellow legs out in front of him. The sound of metallic feet echoed softly down the hallway from somewhere else in the Ark.

"What are you looking for?" Sunny asked.

Without turning around, Sideswipe extended out his left arm and uncurled his hand to reveal a small key. "One like this, but bigger." Then Sideswipe put the key down on the desktop and searched through the next drawer with both hands.

Sunstreaker stood up and strode over to take a closer look. Standing beside his red brother, he picked up the key and frowned at it. "What do you want a key for?"

Sideswipe did not answer immediately. He had found something he thought might do as a substitute and raised his right foot up on the nearby chair, gritting his dental plates as he tried the thin, wedge-shaped piece of metal in the lock of his knee joint cover plate.

Sunny winced as he watched Sideswipe force the make-shift key into the lock, sure that he was going to scratch the paint on the cover plate around the opening. But Sideswipe was more wary than that, and soon gave up after realizing that he needed the right tool after all.

"Oh, slag!" Sideswipe emphatically sighed through his vocalizer as he removed his leg from the seat, turned and threw himself back into the chair. With his weight removed from the joint, his leg servo-mechanism relaxed.

Sunstreaker crossed his arms. "So, just go to medical bay."

Sideswipe tipped his head back and to one side to look up at Sunstreaker, his arms hung by his sides. "That's too much hassle. I can take care of it myself."

Sunstreaker shrugged and walked away to slump onto the couch against the far wall of the double room.

Then Sideswipe had an idea and he sat up in his chair. "Hey, Sunny," he half-smiled, "You know where I can find a key?"

"No," Sunstreaker answered without expression.

Sideswipe laughed to himself as he got up. "Maintenance," he answered with raised palms. He knew that Hoist usually picked up whatever he needed for the day's work and left the maintenance area unattended. He could discreetly borrow some tools to fix his bothersome knee joint and return them later. No one would ever know that he was there.

A trip down to the maintenance wing did not sound interesting to Sunstreaker. "I'll wait here," he responded and relaxed as Sideswipe passed him to leave their quarters.

"I won't be long," Sideswipe stated before passing through the doorway. "This'll be a piece of silicon wafer cake."