"Hello, Grimlock."

Serket sounded like her usual self—rough yet soft. It made something in Grimlock's spark clench. He hadn't heard her voice in a long time; he never planned in hearing it again.

But there she was, claws curled upon the ground, ready to strike at any given moment.

She hadn't changed a bit.

They were alike, yet their convictions were different. Grimlock wanted to hate her. He hated that she, along with the other Predacons, took out any Bot that stood in their way, without a second glance. He hated how she could recharge after all the atrocities she committed. He hated how she tormented his fellow Dinobots, and how she tried to hunt them down. Hated how she and the Predacons were on the side of the Decepticons.

He hated that they were one and the same; they both were beasts that crawled up from the depths, waiting to attack and strike.

They both took part in a greater malady, the conflict that tore apart their home right from the start.

"It's been a while, Serket," he said, swallowing hard.