There was once a man who wrote a story about a lost world at the center of the Earth. In his world, time held no relevance as past and future melded together in the present. In his story ordinary and extraordinary people lived and existed side by side, magic and science did not fight for dominance, and creatures supposedly extinct, mythological, and average all lived in the same place.

Now what if I told you that there was a place similar to that lost world beneath the soil we live on? Now what would you do if I said that the truth you and I have come to live by was only a half-truth and that the world we live in was much more grand than we've been led to accept as true? …You don't believe me? Then let me tell you a story, a story about three very exceptional people; a boy who went from being an ordinary down and out teenager to a hero by an unlikely twist of fate , a man who built a hidden city with his own two hands and created a nation of mixed creatures, and an alien warrior who was the leader of a once proud, nearly extinct race of ancient living machines from a different planet.

(((O))) (((O)))

=(One Week After The Battle In Egypt)=

The state of Nevada was mostly uninhabitable by human standards. A great deal of it was The Great Basin Desert after all, the largest stretch of desert in all of North America. The desert itself took up almost the entire state, half of Utah, and the eastern and southern most borders of California and Idaho respectively. But just because most of the state was a barren wasteland didn't mean there was no life there. Most livable areas in Nevada lay along its southern and western corners in cities such as Las Vegas, Reno, and Carson City (there are seven other major cities and a slew of small towns between them). But of all the Silver State's cities, there was one city that was grander and by far larger than any of the Nevadan metropolitan areas known, or rather, unknown.

With more than four miles of rock between it and the surface, there was a cave, the largest and longest one yet to be discovered and likely to never be discovered. But then this particular underground cavern was special since it wasn't naturally made. It was perfectly circular with a dome ceiling, miles wide, miles long, and the space between the ceiling and floor was far enough apart that one would be able to stack two twenty stories tall skyscrapers on top of each other and still have several dozen yards to spare. Within this oversized cave was an even grander thing.

There, laying hidden from the world in that grotto, was a city, a populated metropolis, called Las Magia City.

It was the only subterranean city of its kind on Earth, and hardly anybody but the individuals who lived within its walls knew of its existence. Originally it started out as a simple hiding place, a base of sorts, for a small group of ten rather special individuals whom had nowhere to go and had to conceal themselves from the general populace of surface dwellers. Only rarely did the inhabitance of Las Magia allow anyone from above to come down to live within their walls and only open-minded people under certain circumstances. Almost too quickly, over the course of fifteen years, that small group grew to more than one hundred, and again and again as the years past until current numbers, close to thirty-five hundred, and the base had to be expanded upon to accommodate the growing patchwork of diverse residents from a small base to a village, then a town, and finally it became the sprawling underground colony it is today.

The tons of rock above and around it proved to be a natural defensive wall against any and all kinds of scanning equipment, making Las Magia impossible to find. If the surface dwellers were to ever set eyes upon it, they would think someone took a scene from some cyberpunk novel or movie and made it real. The stone walls, roof, and floors of the cavern had been leveled out and lined with thick sheets of metal that was made from slabs of the world's strongest refined alloy. But it was not just the feats of science that gave the city its existence, though it was responsible for the bulk of it. Another entity, more obscure and mysterious than science, had helped in making and maintaining Las Magia as a thing of reality. All of the colony's residents knew of it and accepted it, even with the initial skepticism of moved-in residents, and only a small minority of surface dwellers scattered across the world actually had any sort of inkling as to what it was and how to harness it while the rest of the world only knew of it as simple fantasy, an imaginative myth. Believe it or not, magic played a hand in Las Magia's construction. Truly, it exists, for the Creator, as that was his title and what the populace referred to him as, of the city was a magical person himself. One would only have to look a little within their own homes to find something purely or at the very least half magical in origin. Everything one could find in one of the surface cities, towns, and villages could also be found in Las Magia. The city itself was large, less than a third the size of Nevada but twice the size of a normal city, built as far away from every known and underground military base in the desert, and numerous, specially crafted charms to shield it from undesirable attention or attacks. There was a Fidelius Charm on the colony with its Creator as its Secret Keeper, a very strong Cave Inimicum to reinforce 200 yards worth of stone outside the colony walls as first defense against penetration, a specially modified Anti-Disapparating Jinx designed to allow contained Apparition within the city but kept magic users not registered as a legal citizen from getting in or out without going through the Customs Ports/gates, which had Intruder Charms and Stealth Soensoring Spells on them, and Impervius and Unbreakable Charms on all the doors and walls of the colony. Since the colony was built and established near a lesser Ley Line of magic several miles away, the city ran on enough ambient magic to power these charms and jinxes for centuries to come without killing the technology in it, even if some of said technology had been modified to accept magic. This made the colony and its city a veritable fortress rivaling Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and the Gringotts Banks.

The buildings were all made almost exclusively of smooth, glossy metal and glass that gleamed with artificial lights, revealing hieroglyphic ruins etched carefully into them, and stood in all different sizes and shapes but twice the height, width, and length than normal man-made structures on the surface. There were spires and pyramid-like towers, some structures were spherical or oval-ish, some were designed to look as if they were leaning or slightly twisting while others had an oblong quality to them. There were a number of suspension brides that connected some buildings with the roads, or buildings with buildings, or roads with roads. Large neon billboards floated along in mid-air as Tram systems ran and circled the length of the city. The roof of the colony was a bit of a mystery and a source of awe itself, it looked exactly as the outside sky would on the surface; sun, moon, stars, clouds and all slowly changing colors depending on the time of the day and season up on the surface, imitating day and night. A complex network of crossing underground pipes and high elevated wall ventilation shafts continuously, silently, recycled or brought new air and water into the colony, controlled the sewer and pluming systems, several large generators regulated the climate control (rain, snow, etc), producing an atmosphere, or distributed power.

All together, the city had the appearance of a possible Tokyo or New York of the 22nd century.

Now this brings up the topic of who and what lived in this rather extraordinary city. One third of the metropolis' residents were human and of that, one half were magical and the other half were mundane. Unlike on the surface, there was no segregation between the two parties, no hiding from on another out of fear, and the concept of blood purity prejudice, or any form of racial prejudice for that matter, was highly frowned upon by all and city law dealt hard punishment for any acting on it. The magical of the city were not willingly ignorant of the technologies of the current century just as the mundane were not kept ignorant of the histories of magicks. The next third of the cities residents were the Magical Creatures, beings strait out of fantasy or horror stories. All who knew of the city and did not wish to continue to live on the surface due to gross oppression of power and unlawful castigation for simply being non-human by several Ministries of Magic came to live peacefully within the city. There were Vampires, Werewolves, Veela, half-bloods and other such creatures that were branded as 'dark' or 'light' roaming the city together. Special laws were put in place for them to adhere to and exclusive facilities that catered to their specific needs made living with them manageable, even enjoyable. Now the last remaining third of the city's population were a truly unusual sight. These individuals were neither classified as human nor Magical Creature, let alone organic, but all of them were considered the Creator's children. The Creator had made each of them specifically for certain jobs or functions and only he had the unique ability to bring them to life. As his children they obeyed and protected the Creator to the point where he was never seen without at least one or two of them. They were the true marvel of advanced science, beyond what any hoped would be possible or achievable in this current 21st century. They were the original residents and builders of the city. Mechanical in nature, but very self-aware and capable of having of feelings, they had no real official group name, but collectively the people called them Transformers for their ability to change from sentient robots to any mechanical alt form, from vehicles to household appliances. The smallest stood no shorter than six inches tall, any smaller and they would only be preprogrammed helper drones, while the largest were as large as a twenty feet tall.

The city was divided into six sector rings and the capital. Each sector each sector rose up like a short stairway until the capital, and had its own way of life and its own facilities such as learning, medical, and recreational centers. The residents had jobs and certain abilities or a set of skills based on which sector they lived in and their own preferences. Ring One, also called the 'countryside', was the outermost ring of the city. This was where plots of open land, an artificial ecosystem, were dedicated to farming crops and certain herbs and what not, and the growth of livestock took up a great deal of the land. There was also a small three mile thick forest growing there with its own thriving wildlife, both magical and mundane, rimming the walls of the colony. The forest was called the Edge Woods and was magically kept by ambient magicks from the very same Ley Line that made a great deal of south-western area of the United States a radio dead zone.

Next the outer sector was Sector Rings Two and Three, were the residential areas between the outer ring and the inner city, the suburbia-like cul-de-sacs for the organics of the colony and the much wider urban-like housing complexes for the Transformers respectively. The houses and apartment buildings/complexes weren't as outrageously constructed as the inner city buildings were, they were build hardly any different than a regular house or apartment, no matter who or what lived inside them. However, the Transformers lived in apartment no than two or three stories (by their standards) tall. Also, the residential area only took up half the two Rings,

Then there was Sector Rings Four and Five. Ring Four was a place of warehouses and manufacturing and/or processing plants. It was where the city's heavy machinery, like construction drones, was built and stored, including the Transformers' shells and armor. Ring Five was dominated by a multitude of different small shops and businesses as well as the arts, all manner of commerce basically. Anything one would need or want could be sold or bought in this sector. The were also a multitude of art museums, performance arts centers and theaters, parks, and malls.

After that there was Ring Six. This Ring was devoted governmental and judicial handlings as well as institutions of higher education . Here was where the major courthouses, several small jails, the Postal Service buildings, and government buildings for the city council sat. The four main hospitals (three of them specified to each of the three races while the last was generalized), small specialized clinics, the three major Universities, and six small technical colleges of Las Magia also sat with this Ring.

Lastly was the capital. Unlike the other areas, the capital was the smallest of them all, but at the same time it was the most important. It is here that the Creator of Las Magia and his family lived and worked. His home was more castle-like in appearance, it stood higher and wider than any other building, and it sat at the very center of the city. It was also here that new mechs and femmes are sparked and given protoforms.

Given what kind of people the denizens of Las Magia City was very self-sufficient and required very little outside help or materials. Why would it? The city could easily mine, conjure, grow, build, craft, produce, and recycle all it needed. Las Magia City truly was a inconceivably captivating futuristic metropolis, a harmonized mesh of science and magic. The closest thing to an actual little Lost World some would say. It was so very loved by its inhabitants that it wouldn't take much to make them violently hostile to protect it. The denizens could almost be considered to be isolationists, but not quite, they were very aware of the happenings on the surface. Happenings that made them leery of the current outside world.

(((O))) (((O)))

He found it all too entirely surprising, even a little amusing, to discover other mechs and femmes not sparked by himself. What's more, all of them were aliens, of all things, from another planet call Cybertron and arrived on Earth a year ago. That surprise was quickly overshadowed by the knowledge of said aliens were divided, calling themselves Autobots and Decepticons, and were at war with each other. That fact by itself, he didn't care about their origins, gave him a healthy dose of caution of both factions… if only at first. There was a war going on topside, yet another conflict in the ancient war between good and evil, between defenders and conquerors, and the winner would claim Earth as their spoils.

There had been two incidents on Earth so far that showed the two faction fighting, once in Mission City and only days before in Egypt. Both times the government had tried to hush it up, the first time it worked when it was blamed on an unknown group of terrorists using stolen military weapons, not the he believed that load of dragon dung, the second time… didn't work at all. The people knew truth now and weren't going to be fooled a second time. Almost every news station on the surface was abuzz about it, currently holding the live press conference he was watching now.

The citizens, his people, of Las Magia were torn with indecision. Some were fascinated by the Autobots and wanted to invite them down into the city, hoping for a chance to learn something from the clearly older mechanoids, particularly the Transformers. Others were wary of both factions and weren't too keen on inviting what could easily turn into an unnecessary problem into their lives. The remaining many took a neutral stance and stayed undecided.

In the end, he, as the leader, decided for everyone.

He assigned a recon mission to a team of one mech and one femme, both battle grade, and two humans, one was an older wizard man in the police force who knew mechanical repair work and the other was a rather refined nineteen year-old young woman who just began a promising career as program analyst, would go up to the surface as neutrals. They were ordered not to help nor hinder in any battles unless threatened, but to simply observe and determine the apparent fidelity of the Autobots and their human allies. …There was, however, one bit of information the Creator withheld when he made his decision. When he set eyes on the boy named Samuel James Witwicky and the large blue and red flamed mech named Optimus Prime, his powers of creation resonated strongly, as if calling out for something similar to it. Then there was also his dreams, dreams he had been having for years of a strange silver dagger shaped artifact with a shimmering blue crystal in the center, of a cube as large as a small house with indecipherable glyphs carved into it, and of a group of twelve, once thirteen, ancient mechs. The word 'Primes' came to mind when he looked at them.

Looking at these two, he knew there was a connection of some kind between them.

The Creator sat, leaning ever so slightly forward in his sinfully comfortable throne of a chair (his children insisted and persisted that he be treated higher than he felt was necessary. A simple desk and cushy chair would have done it for him, thank you) that was in a rather large, luxurious (again, his children) yet tastefully decorated chamber of his home. The room was a long rectangle, like a hall, and had an Unbreakable Charmed circular window that took up most of the wall behind him. It was also very sizeable, enough to fit up to fifteen of his largest Transformers comfortably, and was largely empty save for the mural size paintings and statues decorating his walls, the long dark blue rug on the floor the line of crystal chandeliers on the ceiling, and at the end of the room, the throne he sat on was at the top of a half-pyramid shaped platform that put him just above optic level.

At the foot of his throne stood his six Magister Judges. There were two Transformers (a mech and a femme) two Humans (a witch and a mundane man) and two Magical Creatures (a vampire and a werewolf). Each one of them was different than the next, boasting different strengths and skills, but all were considered to be the elite; they were the bravest, brightest, strongest and were loyal to him to a fault. Though he had no true need or desire for it, they also served as his guard.

The mech was designated as Windchill. He was the Creator's first sparked, the overall oldest, one of the few flyers in the entire city, and was a very impassive bot. His stood rather tall, was wide chested, had pale green optics, and painted a gunmetal grey and dark green painted frame made him a rather imposing mech. Windchill could transform into a heavily armed Westland WAH-64 Apache attack helicopter, if the slight spread out rotor blades behind him were any indication, though his alt was bigger than a normal one. He spoke very, very little, only occasionally muttering roughly in low tones or made small gestures. He wasn't shy, he just didn't converse well with others he wasn't particularly close to. Unless it was the Creator or Margareta, the vampire and fellow Magister currently lounging on his shoulder, he let his action speak for him. He was literally built and sparked for the purpose of battle, protecting his Creator and home to deactivation.

Margareta Van Voltair herself was very old, well over six hundred but she looked ten, and a true Nosferatu from Germany. She was an Elder Vampire of by birth and age as well as experience, basically she was a noble. Despite her high-born statues in Vampire hierarchy, she behaved both her real age and the age she appeared. Margareta was woman trapped in a child's body. At the time when she came to the city, she was a very lonely, down-and-out, hard-on-her-luck noble who just lost her entire coven to hunters and simply let herself be swept away with a few migrating vampires who had heard of a 'secret haven hidden within the sand basin of the New World for all Magical Creatures'. Las Magia and its master took her in without thought or care of what she was even after she told him. The Creator simply shrugged, smiled, and gave her a new place and purpose when she had nowhere to go and no one to turn to in her greatest time of need. For that, she owed Las Magia and its leader. They gave her a chance to live her life, a life she would destroy anything to protect.

The femme Transformer was called Siren and, like all femmes, was small, and had a lithe, slender frame. She was an average sized femme, only standing at 8'-6", more than three and a half heads or more shorter than the three mechs around her. Her body armor was all curved with only a few sharp points, like her helm having several long and short ridges like a half-crown. Siren was painted a sleek aquamarine with a elegant deep navy blue and white wave decals along the seams. In her bi-peddle form it was hard to see any overly obvious aspects of her alt form, but by the dorsal fin-like rudder and webby wings on he back, she was something that belonged on or in water. She was a fairly adventurous femme and loved spending her down time at sea, as within her nature.

The witch of the group, a Spanish-American woman wearing flowing gold trimmed, crimson robe-like dress and shoes with long wavy brunette hair and soulful dark eyes, was known as Karina Figueroa. Originally from the bayous of Louisiana, Katrina was the younger sister of one NEST operative Jorge "Fig" Figueroa. Her greatest talents was her ability to modify and redesign spells into something more and in her family's innate heightened sense of empathy towards kinetic energy, often using that gift to sense an immediate change of events. Her kind may not be Seers, but they were the next best thing. Most mundane people thought it funny or annoying when they said they had a bad or good feeling that something was going to happen, until it actually happened. She had literally ran headlong into the Creator himself one night by accident almost eight years ago. She was working two jobs then and had just gotten off her day job as a secretary at the local wizard bank, unlike in Europe Gringotts wasn't the only banking name in America, while rushing to her night job as a waitress at one of the many restaurants on Bourbon Street. It was Mardi Gras week and the party crows were already pouring in. She was running late and barely paying, arguing with a friend over the phone when she connected with him. He had shocked her, in both senses of the word, a strange power that wasn't magic but not unlike electricity in appearance snapped up into her cell, not that she noticed at first. But she certainly noticed what happened a moment later when her little phone suddenly transformed into a six and a half inch tall robot in her hand. The Creator had panicked and was just reaching for his wand to Obliviate her and take his new unintended Sparkling. Of course she didn't notice his panic. She was too busy looking at her once phone when she stopped him cold by asking how he Transfigured her phone into a robot without a wand. After the revelation of both of them being magical, the Creator ended up walking her to her job and explained it was an innate ability unique to him. They had become something like penpals after that.

Aleron LeBenoit was a French werewolf, and not a magical one either. Before he changed, he was a teenager who lived an entirely too demanding life back in Le Havre, France, coming from a family of five with a dismally thin wallet. He was a low income "muggle" as the magic users called him from an equally low income family, just a year away from finishing high school at the middle of his class and living on his own. Aleron discovered what he now was and almost everything he knew of magic truly existed from the French Ministry the week after he was bitten by an on-the-run rouge wolf, he had been comatose after the attack. The most obvious signs of his turning where his hair and eye colors, his eyes turned gold and it was like someone washed his dark brunette hair in bleach to make it white. His life only got harder afterwards. He dropped out of school and left his family after his first transformation, fearing for their safety, and ran. He managed to get as far as Paris before he ran out of what little money he had. By some twist of fate he met and befriended another werewolf named Remus Lupine and his newly wed and pregnant wife, Nymphadora (under the threat of death he never called her that) Tonks-Lupine who were barely any better off than him. Remus and Tonks had let him stay at their little flat with them as long as he got a job, muggle or magical, as long as he had one. When they died a year later, the Creator had come to inform him. He was reluctant at first, not wanting to leave, but he agreed to immediately immigrated from the beloved home of his friends' when the Creator told him living in France was going to become hazardous to his health because Magical Britain, one of the bigger magical communities in the world after the Americas and Africa, had been pressuring the other Europian Ministries to pass laws on restraining Dark Creatures. So he did the only thing he could think of. Only after he'd been assured nobody would, could, touch the little cottage did Aleron packed his things and bid au revoir to his home and traveled to America with the Creator.

The last of the Magister was a man named Brandon Chase from San Francisco, California. He was a tall young man of seventeen with short black hair and blue eyes behind a pair of rimless glasses. He wore baggy dark grey pants with brown boots and a casual black and navy long sleeved shirt. Hanging off his shoulder was a messenger bag that held his laptop and all his electronic gadgets. Of all the Magister, he was the youngest, being only seventeen, but at the same time he was a certified genius, a super hacker in the making who's budding skills behind a keyboard had impressed to Creator. At the time Brandon had been fifteen, just starting high school, and simply messing around one night, picking apart firewalls from several communication companies for the fun of it, when he stumbled across one of Las Magia's hidden internet system links, specifically the one relay that dealt with communication between the colony and the surface, and started hacking into it. He had been immediately caught the moment he typed the first keystroke to examine it. With several of his Transformer children always jacked into the city's data mainframe at a time, it was impossible for a surface human to obtain any confidential information. Even though he was kept from touching any sensitive data and ousted from the system, the boy was interested. He would come back and try again every other day, not succeeding and booted out each time but he had become more and more inventive and dynamic trying to crack their defenses. He had met his greatest challenge as a hacker and he obsessed over it. Brandon had became such an annoyance to the mainframe maintenance crew that they started back hacking in retaliation when he tried to plant a custom made worm virus. The Creator, when he was informed, was too amused at their antics to be upset. So much so that he went to personally meet the boy that was giving the crew so much grief. It wasn't hard to find him. When he did confront the boy they had a bit of a rough start, but after talking a bit the Creator offered him a future within his home. The temptation to know ate at Brandon until he agreed. With a bit of spell weaving and false information about a non-existent boarding school, Mr. and Mrs. Chase agreed and let him go, only to return every summer.

In front of the seven a large holographic screen keyed to one of many news channels hovered. The Creator had noted certain sets of symbols engraved or painted on the aliens. He stared pointedly at the tallest of the mechs, the apparent leader, Optimus Prime. He was… honestly intrigued by these Cybertronians. They were so like his kids, and yet, they were so different as well. He supposed he could liken them to being something similar to removed older cousins his children never knew. They certainly appeared that way.

Now that he sent a small party to observe them for him, he needed something to gain their trust if the colony was ever made known to them and they became curious enough to visit, a sort of peace offer to the Autobots. …and he may know of just the thing. "Split screen and show me footage from last year's battle in Mission City." he ordered, his voice was soft but between a high baritone and a low tenor. Much of the initial videos posted on the Internet had been erased by the government, but that didn't mean he didn't have them copied and saved before the purge. The voice controlled holo-projector obliged and pushed the current channel aside while pulling up a video track, playing it next to the news. As he watched, he counted, looking between the Autobots of the present and of a year ago. He saw the difference immediately. One mech out of the original five arrivals was missing. A sad, bitter smile curled his lips as he watched from the perspective of someone's shaky phone camera the small silvery mech die. "Freeze the Mission City video." he said, the video stopping.

His flowing white and green robes flowing out around him as he stood. The Creator looked down at his Magisters, specifically the femme Transformer, his first daughter. "My dear Siren, I have a favor to ask."

"Huh?" The femme's wide emerald optic shuttered as if not expecting to be called on. She acknowledged he father all the same, "What can I do for you?" she asked in a whimsical, musical voice.

The Creator gave her a warm smile. "My precious sea angel, I need you to assemble a recovery team. I want this mech's remains retrieved from the Laurentian Abyss."

Siren looked at the hologram's frozen image of a silver, visored mech who looked only a few feet bigger than her. "Hmm… what's so special about him?" He was certainly good looking. Very attractive, for a land bot, but it looks like he was just another pretty face and no muscle to her. "He looks like a pansy- Oww!" Siren whipped around to glare up into the optics of the mech who flicked the back of her helm, dully ignoring the centuries older, giggly little vampire that sat on his shoulder. "What was that for, Windchill, you rusted bucket head?"

The large mech's optics narrowed slightly and his lip components twitched down, but other than that, he said and did nothing else.

Margareta laughed again at Siren's irratation at Windchill as she pet the fuzzy head of her plush bear. "Chilly vant's you to stop ah'ting like a Sparkling and do v'hat z'ee Lord Creator ah'sked you." the little female vampire interpreted for her friend in a heavily accented sing-song voice. He sweet smile began taking on a amused yet nasty edge. "It'z obvious to any'vone wit's a brain bigger zen a peanut z'hat he v'ants to 'elp z'hat poor Autobot." All though she wasn't a particularly violent vampire like the stories depict, Margareta could be spiteful at times.

The aquatic femme glared at the curly haired redhead in that modernize black and dark pink Victorian dress. She couldn't take being around that bratty leech in human skin for extended amounts of time. She sooo wanted to offline the little blood sucker. It was an ongoing feud between them since they both became Magisters.

"Goodness, they're at it again." Magister rolled their eyes in exasperation.

"One o' des days, 'dey come to blows, dis I know mon amis." Aleron sighed.

Brandon smirked in amusement. "Heh, I'd pay to see that."

"Now, now, no need for fighting," The Creator's soft voice soothed, amused exasperation coloring his voice. "Yes, I do wish to help this mech. It is within my power to reignite his spark if he wants to return… but I admit, I do have an ulterior motive. I want to meet the Autobot leader. I want to know about this Cybertron, the All-Spark… I feel that there may be a connect between us. It and I both exhibit identical abilities."

Siren was silent for a moment as she looked at the serious, thoughtful look on the Creator's face. She huffed and turned, "I'll be back in two or three days." she informed as she turned to leave.

"Do be careful, and try not to be seen by the military!" Creator called after her. She gave an affirming backwards wave as she disappeared out the door. The Creator smirked. "Well now," he began almost giddily, "I haven't had guests in a long time. I think I'll start setting up a room for this Jazz chap… but I've not a clue how to decorate."

"Oh! I v'ould like to 'elp!" Margareta volunteered. "V'indchill could 'elp too wit'z zhe e'vy lifting!" she said. Windchill gave the little vampire a looked that said 'Why are you volunteering me?'. She gave the mech a wide eyed, pleading 'puppy dog stare', and when his optics dulled slightly and shuddered away from her Margareta knew she won him over… again. For all his imposing appearance, stone cold personality, and fierce battle prowess, Windchill was such a creampuff on the inside; soft, sweet, and all around good. "Let us be off z'en! V'we 'ave much to do, no?" Windchill gave one last look to his Creator, who just smiled back innocently, the mech vented in resignation and walked away with the vampire chattering happily in his audio.

Brandon shrugged and turned to leave, taking out a small cell phone and started dialing while one hand was stuffed in his pocket. "Whatever, I'll inform the medical staff at Liberty Tech Memorial to start preparing for our special guest. " he said as he walked away. Then he muttered more quietly to himself "Damn, I can already imagine the shit load of extra parts they'll need to fix that guy."

Katrina and Aleron also left the chamber. Katrina wanted to go call her brother, seeing as she just found out he was one of the soldiers who fought in Egypt against the Decepticaons and the Fallen, she was worried about the current state of his health. Aleron went to see about setting up some accommodations for the Autobots and their human friends since he had a feeling that without a doubt they would pass inspection and be invited into the colony.

Now all alone, the Creator sat back down and continued watching the press conference with interest. All he had to do now was sit and wait patiently, hoping he made the right choice in chancing exposure of his people to them. If he was wrong about the Autobots and their allies, he would simply have to go out with a team to Obliviate them and destroy any evidence of their existence. Unlike the other members of the magical society, his brand of magic worked just as well on autonomous robotic beings as it did on organics.