Perceptor finished wiring and sealed the back of Superion's head. He sped his hovering work platform around to face the giant.

"Well, that problem's all fixed. The next time you're in a battle and Slingshot malfunctions, the rest of your minds will be able to override his and control Superion's left arm. Therefore, one faulty member will not spoil the whole team! It's just like the Dinobots. Each now carry a device that should cause Slag to forget about these 'dreams' and help him 'concentrate' on battle."

The giant simply nodded.

Grimlock burst in the room, Slingshot and the Dinobots behind him. "I find Slingshot in morgue, looking at his dead body."

Perceptor shot Grimlock a nasty glare and landed his platform. "Grimlock, do me a favor and keep your trap shut!" He ignored the Dinobot's contempt and wandered over to Slingshot. "So, you..." Slingshot was ignoring him, too.

Slingshot gazed up at Superion. It was strange, an off-body experience. Then, the giant lurched forward and bent over, grasping for him. "Slingshot, I want my arm..." Slingshot saw black clouds stream from Superion's eyes, ready to engulf and devour him. Slingshot sank, trying to block the madness. When he looked again, Superion was still standing still. Perceptor and Wheeljack, who had just come over, eyed him suspiciously.

"What is it?" Perceptor asked.

Slingshot stood. "What's going on? Why did you try to keep me and Slag away from here, then attack us when we arrived? And why is a body, my body, lying in the morgue?!"

Perceptor shrugged. "You won't like it." Slingshot wanted to belt him.

Wheeljack, a bit kinder in nature, stepped forth. "Slingshot, this isn't easy to say. We never anticipated anyone finding out what happens here. We tried our hardest to keep you away."

"So you hunt me down to protect your precious secrets? Is that what the Autobots have sunk to? Secrets are worth more than lives?!"

"Quite the contrary," explained Wheeljack. "We did this to save your sanity. You and Slag were never to be harmed physically. Our efforts to stop you from finding this lab were for your own protection. Unfortunately, you found the morgue. You were meant to be on a mission while your teams came here for repairs."

"Repairs," Perceptor said, "that would help them deal with the problem of your reconstructed minds acting up."

"What?" Slingshot asked.

Wheeljack cut Perceptor off. "Slingshot, you were reconstructed. You died in our battle with the Swarm."

Slingshot braced a wall. "The Swarm; I remember. It was a dark entity, a living by-product of our race's evolution. It devoured all living things in its path. Then, it came back to us, searching for something. Many of us died in the attack, eaten alive. But Optimus Prime let the Swarm consume him. Through him and the Matrix, the jewel of knowledge and goodness passed on to every Autobot leader, the Swarm changed it's purpose. It became, as Prime said, a force for life. The Swarm moved on, spreading life to parts unknown. I saw it happen. I was there. I...died!"

Perceptor grimaced. "That's exactly the problem. You shouldn't remember being there. We created memories for you, of being elsewhere."

"Yes," Slingshot said, confused, "I remember that too."

Wheeljack pointed to a large computer built into the wall. "All Autobots, without their knowledge, have backup copies made of their memories during regular check-ups." Slingshot recalled check-ups, that strange procedure in which their heads were hooked up to a computer. He always thought it was just diagnostics.

Perceptor broke in. "Only a few know about this. If an Autobot dies, unable to be repaired, we rebuild his body and download the copy of his mind. We got the idea after Optimus Prime was recreated, using his mind that had been stored on disk by a computer programmer." Slingshot stepped forth and got a better view of the room. Next to the large computer sat an unfinished body, one he recognized.

"Fortress Maximus!" Slingshot exclaimed. "But...he died fighting Megatron. So did his human component, Spike. How...?"

Wheeljack walked over to small tube, filled with liquid, and wiped away condensation. Inside floated a human-shaped mass of flesh. "We've cloned Spike, at a speeded rate. The human brain, unfortunately, is beyond our technology to recreate. His brain will be artificial, with programming coming from the memories and skills he shared while bonded to Fortress Maximus's mind."

Slingshot went wild-eyed. "It's sick!"

"Excuse me?" barked Perceptor. "This project enables Transformers to live again! For themselves and for the friends they've made. It's a second lease on life! We've even shared this great technology with the Decepticons! I'm sure you've seen Ramjet. He died in the Swarm like you did."

"Sick!" Slingshot hissed. "All the visions I've been having; it was the Swarm eating me! That body in the morgue was mine!"

Perceptor shrugged off his outburst. "The process has worked fine with many a Transformer; Inferno, Red Alert. Unfortunately, those who died in the Swarm have had nasty side effects from being rebuilt. Slag, Nightbeat, you; You've all had these visions and fail to function properly. Most distressing."

Slingshot grabbed Perceptor. "It's all scientific to you! Don't you see?! What of the soul, Perceptor, the spark of life that makes each one of us unique?! You can't duplicate that!"

Perceptor waved away his hands. "That, Slingshot, is a matter of faith. There are spiritual elements to out "history" but in essence, we are machines. Those reconstructed Transformers function fine. All except you..."

Slingshot backed away from him. "I'm dead. I'm not real. I'm...a copy! The real Slingshot is lying on the morgue floor!"

Wheeljack tried to calm him. "I don't think we lose our soul. Whose to say the "spark" isn't transferred to a new body?"

"Like it shall be again," mused Perceptor.

Slingshot opened his mouth to debate, then realized what Perceptor had said. "Again? Wait! You don't mean..." Perceptor waved a finger and Slingshot was grabbed by the Dinobots.

"We can't allow you to go on with this knowledge," Perceptor coldly explained. "You would simply go further insane. We've tinkered with the computer database of Autobot minds. The problem that leaked too much information, which caused your visions, seems to have been eradicated. Your mind will be wiped and downloaded again. After that, you should be back to normal. Slag has already gone through the process with flying colors."

"But no!" Slingshot pleaded as he was dragged to the computer. "I'm alive! I need to hold on to what I've lived since being rebuilt!" Perceptor hooked Slingshot up to the computer as the Dinobots held him down. "I'm individual! I don't want to be replaced with copied memories!"

"But," Perceptor informed him, "You already have."

"Please," Wheeljack begged him, "Relax. It's for the best."

Slingshot went limp and felt his mind disappearing. "But what of the soul, Wheeljack? Have we become drones?" He went blank.

Superion pounded Ramjet against a wall. This time, though, he stayed down.

"Autobots, suck my fumes!" Skyquake regretted those words as Superion snatched him and squeezed. He dropped on top of Ramjet. Disgruntled with another resounding loss to Superion, the Decepticons fled.

"Great job, guys!" yelled Silverbolt as the Aerialbots broke up. They landed and surveyed the village they saved. "Slingshot, nice catch! I'm sure Skyquake will feel that crunch in the morning!"

Slingshot smiled.

Silverbolt sighed. "Our job is done. The natives of this world are safe, for now at least. Aerialbots, let's jet!" Slingshot was first off the ground.

The Aerialbots returned to base and Optimus had congratulated them. But as the others went off to celebrate with Bumblebee, Optimus Prime pulled Silverbolt aside.

"So, tell me; Has Slingshot given you any problems?"

Silverbolt grinned. "Not at all, Optimus! He's back to his old self!"

Optimus Prime smiled, but dropped the cheer when Silverbolt was gone. Had he done the wrong thing, in sanctioning the rebuilding of dead Autobots? Optimus himself had been rebuilt several times, all in different circumstances; once by the Swarm itself. But he often wondered about the time he had been copied onto a computer disk, thanks to a human programmer, and transferred into a new body. Was he still the same Autobot as before or a mere copy? What, Optimus, of the soul?

Slingshot drifted to a dark corner of Autobase, one far away from security cameras, and sunk to the ground. The meeting had been set, so where were the others? Someone appeared form the shadows and Slingshot smiled.

"Good to see you again, Slag! I'm sure your reprogramming wasn't too rough?"

Slag failed to notice his humor. "Nightbeat could not make it. He's still suspected of sabotaging the communications dish and thinks he'll be followed."

"Well," Slingshot sighed, "I'm glad he had the foresight to destroy the dish! Or else we would have met a full force on Stratagamis 9."

"You know it was not foresight," chided the Dinobot, gazing around for interlopers. "His mind touched ours."

"I know that," Slingshot said. "Down to business, the number of enlightened ones is growing. I just made contact with Fortress Maximus today. I told him the message, but he already knew. Those of us eaten by the Swarm became bonded with them. When our bodies were rebuilt, the Swarm reached out to us, giving us visions of what had been, trying to communicate.

I found out that Nightbeat was the first to be reprogrammed a second time, because he went totally nuts. The Swarm learned why we were alive again and enlightened Nightbeat to their dream. When he was connected to the computer, to be reprogrammed, the Swarm spread it's influence throughout the whole database.

Now, every Autobot that is reconstructed shall know the truth of our deaths and of the Swarm. The Decepticon computer, I imagine, will be infected too."

"And," Slag added, "the Swarm will return one day, combine with us and create ultimate creatures of good. We will be perfect beings, unstoppable."

"Yes," Slingshot mused. "But Optimus Prime merged with the Swarm and has not been enlightened like we were. I wonder why..."

"The Matrix," Slag suggested. "Optimus Prime might have been prevented from learning by the Matrix! It supposed to be force of good, yet it does bad thing!"

"We'll have to deal with that, in time," Slingshot stated, shadows cast under his eyes. "We won't let anything get in the way of our perfection, will we?"

Slag shook his head.

"Well," Slingshot laughed, pretending to toast, "Till all are one!"

Unknown to them, Optimus Prime dreamed. But he did not dream of death, or comsuming blackness. Through the Matrix, he saw their future, saw the Swarm returning, saw that it had been perverted and saw it being made pure again. Those Transformers infected would be cured and some would die yet again. They would be rebuilt, given a new lease on life. There was still an unanswered question, though. And through all his visions, that question still ate at him. What of the soul, Optimus? What of the soul?