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Chapter Text

Deep within the incubation room, the queen of the Quintessons, Quintessa, looked over the vital’s of the egg that she was in charge of. After the defeat against the Primes, the Quintessons needed newer, much better tactics, as said by her lover, the High Commander. The idea of raising a hatchling that looked entirely Cybertronian to act as a spy for them. And so, they collected numerous collections of each cybertronian they’ve killed in battle, using their energon samples and using the Quintesson technology to make their perfect spy. It was a struggle to create the spark of a cybertronian and incubate it, but it’d be worth it..

Yet each attempt came out futile, the first one ended up offlining within the first few seconds of life. Quintessa discarded it without a beat. The next one ended up only looking part Cybertronian, a step into their gain, but not perfect enough. Attempt after attempt, Quintessa wondered if they’d ever get this perfect spy, who looked entirely cybertronian. If this egg she was currently incubating in the ship’s incubation tube ended up failing like the last ones, this task will be aborted and forgotten. 

Beep! Beep!

Quintessa was snapped out of her inner monologue at the noise of the egg hatching. By an instant, Quintessa was in front of the egg, anticipating its results. Would it be a failure like the rest? Would it be the perfect spy the Quintessons were aiming for?

The noise continued to beep until the egg began to open with a Sploosh!

Quintessa peers into the open egg that oozed blue goop, her eyes raised up inquisitively as the sight of golden metallic wings caught her eye. Inside the egg was the hatchling, its colors a mix of gold and blue, looking entirely different from the previous failures. It was perfect, it looked exactly similar to a Cybertronian. 

“ Chirr? ” The hatchling stared into Quintessa’s eyes with its bright blue ones, “ Chirr! ” Ah, it already imprinted on her. How cute.

The usually cold queen of the Quintessons picked up the hatchling, holding it in her arms as she checked its vitals and status while wiping off the excess goop on the hatchling. All were good and clear to go. She let out a satisfied purr and looked back at the hatchling. The hatchling perked up at her purr and tilted its head. 

Quintessa held the hatchling close, walking out of the incubation room. She wanted to show her husband the hatchling, show him the little one that successfully hatched to meet their standards. 

She found her husband in the ship’s bridge, perhaps planning out some new battle tactics. Her being filled with excitement that the High Commander could pick up on. The High Command turned around to look at his wife, only to come face to face with the hatchling. He froze for a moment as his wife held up the hatchling towards him, her face full of pride and joy, while the hatchling stared at him, its face full of innocence. 

It seemed to him that the last egg was a success. The Hatchling didn’t look like a Quintesson at all, he was proud that the hatchling was born how they wanted, but he couldn’t show it. It’ll make him look weak. He nods at his wife, who holds the Hatchling close once again. Quintessa will be the hatchling’s caretaker until it reaches the right age to begin its training as a soldier. 

He watches as Quintessa leaves with the Hatchling to take care of it. Humming quintesson lullabies to the hatchling as she left. It had been a while since he last saw his wife this soft for a mere hatchling, most likely she’ll become attached to it, but he couldn’t let himself be attached. The Hatchling could become his weakness if he ever became attached to the little one. 

Soon, the Quintessons will finally take down those 13 Primes and control Cybertron, one step at a time…

Chapter Text

It had been a few weeks since the hatching of Quintessa’s golden angel. The hatchling, who she confirmed as male and dubbed as Golden Angel because of his golden wings, was precious and it made her feel protective and maternal to the little one. She knew she shouldn’t get attached, the hatchling’s purpose was to be their spy and secret weapon, not some little one for her to mother. But she couldn’t stop herself from getting attached, it had been so long since she had a hatchling of her own to care for.

Currently, her little golden was feasting on a mix of energon and some parts of previous incubation fails. The little one needed the right nutrients to grow and become strong. Within a few or more months, the little one will start his training, mentored by the High Commander. Quintessa knew her husband would not be so easy on her little gold, but she couldn’t stop him. She just hopes that the care she can give now will be enough to support the little one. 

“ Chirr…? ” The Hatchling looked up at Quintessa with a small frown, tilting his little head at her in confusion, picking up the inner sadness she felt. 

Quintessa slowly blinked her eyes at him and let out a small purr at him, nuzzling her face against his, making the golden angel giggle, which made her feel happy, “ Prrrrr ” I am alright, little one.

She wiped the excess energon on her little one’s face with a soothing hum before holding the little one close and began singing lullabies to the little one, rocking him to sleep. Quintessa watches as the little one begins to drift off to sleep, gently stroking the hatchling’s face with a soft look on her own. Truly, she knew that this was wrong, to become so attached to the hatchling. Truly She did and her husband would lecture her for such weakness, but the hatchling was still a youngling that she could not neglect so inefficiently. 

Quintessa stares down at the sleeping hatchling in her arms, a worried look and sadness as she watches the peaceful hatchling sleep so soundly, unknowing of his future. The responsibility, the challenges, the struggles… The hatchling will be burdened with such things soon enough. He’ll have to endure, was what her husband will say. Just like with their previous offspring. The High Commander was never kind to anyone who did not live up to the Quintesson standards, not even to his own children. 

She just hopes that he would be at least willing to give the hatchling some leniency, after all the hatchling was made with Cybertronian parts. Their growths and needs are not so similar the way a Quintesson grows. But something tells her that something will change. She doesn’t know what will change yet, but she must be ready for it. By all means…

“ Prrrr… ” Rest Well, my golden angel…

.Many Months Later.

Months had passed by, the hatchling was now more fully developed. It was quite difficult to deal with, especially since raising a hatchling that was in a technical sense, a sparkling, was quite a challenge, even for Quintessa. The hatchling’s 2 month cycles of age was persistently clingy towards Quintessa, she could not do her duties as the Queen without the little one chirping in distress when he did not see her. Then after another two or four months, the hatchling learned how to fly. It was a tedious task because the little one would always perch up onto the highest parts of the ship. The High Commander was as baffled as Quintessa when the little one learned how to fly. But the ability to fly made spying much easier… As long as the young one learned how to fly without mayhem. 

When the hatchling reached the ripe age of training, The High Commander was quick to whisk Quintessa’s little Golden Angel away to start his training. The young one was resistant at first, but when the High Commander growled at him and Quintessa gave him a soft look to comply, the young one droops his wings and reluctantly followed the High Commander. 

From that day on, the young one’s life of affection and doting became only relentless training until he could live up to his role’s expectations. The High Commander would scold him for a simple small complaint, add more time or challenges to his training if he tried to talk back, and even cut time for any breaks he could have. His training only got harder day after day. Once he learned to successfully do one part of his training, another training of another thing was added. A daily routine of waking up, eating his first meal of the day, training for hours, eating again, resting, then repeating. The Golden Angel certainly missed his days where Quintessa pampered him, she still does, but it was only for a fleeting moment whenever she was available. 

But it’d be all worth it, he would think to himself. He had a special mission once he mastered all of his training. And he’ll make the High Commander and Quintessa proud of him! He was told that he is the Quintessons’ last chance of defeating the Primes and retrieving Victory loss after loss. The High Commander even told him that he could be the next ruler like himself if he does it right. 

And soon enough, he’ll be sent out to his important mission to spy within Cybertron.

Chapter Text

Today was the Golden Angel’s first mission as the Quintessons’ Spy. All he had to do was stay low, blend in with Cybertronian life, and get data & information. He had to gain the trust of the 13 Primes, somehow become their advisor, and get secret intel about each and every one of them, point out their weak points and such before reporting it all to the High Commander. 

However, the Quintessons forgot a particular aspect for their spy. It was that they never taught him how to act Cybertronian. The spy still and will always have the behavior of a Quintesson, since he was raised by them. It’ll blow his cover within an instant the moment he tries to make his way to the Primes. If that happens, their defeat will be forever sealed as the ones who lost. 

In a technical sense, they never knew how Cybertronians lived and acted outside of battle. 

Currently it has been around 3 days since the Angel was released for his mission. He stayed agile and stealthy within the buildings of Iacon, keeping clear of being seen by any bystander. He occasionally would hunt at night, chasing down unsuspecting Cybertronians and tearing into their gears when he caught them. He enjoyed the taste of energon that seeped from their mauled systems, it tasted quite nice in his opinion, much better than what they fed him on the Quintesson ship, not to be nitpicky of course. 

He made just to leave no evidence of his presence in the areas he hunted and consumed his victims, he didn’t want to get caught so soon. But he still needed to find a way to get in contact with the 13 primes and get their favor as he was told. Yet he hasn’t even completed step one, ‘Act Cybertronian!’ 

How does anybody on the Quintesson ship expect him to act Cybertronian when he’s been raised by them all his life? Kind of unfair in his eyes to be honest. 

But oh well, can’t change what’s in the past, now can you? 

The Angel was currently chasing down another fearful Cybertronian. He enjoyed the terrified look in their optics, it sent a thrill of satisfaction down his entire frame. Was this how the High Commander felt everytime he struck down a lowly foe? 

(Warning! Somewhat Violent Writing!)

The Angel had a maniac grin on his face as he pounced on his newest prey. Pinning them down and tearing into their neck cables, listening to their static scream before he tore off the cabling with his sharp teeth. He stared down at the petrified, on their last light, expression before he tore into their body, clawing and digging his sharp claws into their chassis to take out his favorite parts to eat. Tearing out his victim's parts bit by bit to consume as he always does with his other prey.

As he consumed and feasted upon his latest prey, he perked up as he caught a whiff of a new scent, it smelt sweet in a way. Nothing like the treats Quintessa gave him or the tasty energon that spewed from his prey. His wings perked up slightly as he shoved the deceased Cybertronian behind some nearby waste. He’ll finish that later, maybe. 

The Angel followed the sweet scent, careful about his steps to not alert his newest unsuspecting prey. Hopefully this one tastes sweet as they smell… 

Airachnid was walking back to her habsuite after a long day at her job at the Study Hall of Iacon. As much as she enjoys being there, the bots she works with, the femmes and mechs she had to deal with, were utterly tiresome to say the least. She couldn’t help but let out a tire vent as she munched on the energon cube snacks she bought as her late night dinner. 

Walking down the streets at night was always so pretty, especially with the stars out tonight. Airachnid wishes the nights were always this pretty to her, if it weren’t a tiring day for her. 

She paused when eating her next snack. She felt something chilling down her frame, it made her shudder in discomfort. The female black bot was if she was being watched… Something was watching her and she did not like that, especially if it's at night. 

‘Oh Primus. Don’t tell me I’m about to get mugged… I just got my dinner and paycheck.’ Airachnid prayed as she looked around, using her many eyes to keep a lookout. 

Something flies past her, making her swiftly turn around. She gripped her bag of energon cube snacks, “Whoever’s there, show yourself! I’ll make sure I knock some sense into you!” 

Airachnid yelled out in the dark as she kept looking around for the mysterious mech that was watching her, “I-I’m not afraid of you! Come out and show your- AHH!!” 

She let out a startled and pained yelp when she felt sharp fangs bite into the side of her neck. The attacker had pushed her down on the ground as they stared at her and the moon behind them shone down on their frame.

Chapter Text

It had been around a few cycles since that encounter with that sweet tasting femme. The Golden Angel couldn't help but follow her and watch from the shadows of the buildings. He followed her everywhere she went. He never got too close, because if he did, what'll happen? Would the femme attack him again? Try to get him captured by the security around this place? He'll never know until he finds out himself. 

This was really hindering his directive. Distracting him from his goal at mind; To find a way to get the trust of the Primes and steal what valuable information they had then report to the High Commander. She was a distraction, an obstacle in his mission. But he could never get rid of her, his processor said to kill her, remove her, but deep inside his body, behind his chassis, something told him 'no', to not hurt this one. He was unsure of what this feeling was. Quintessa never really taught him about emotions, Quintessons rarely had them and when they did it was either wrath or strong negative emotions, never happy ones like Quintessa's. 

He still hunted, of course, he needed fuel and couldn't last without it. His hunts, his preys, weren't as delicious like the femme's energon, but it had to do. He wanted to take his time watching the femme before eventually consuming her, or perhaps he could find a way to... what was the word? Quintessa talked a lot about it when she talked about her first meeting with the High Commander. Oh! Yes, courting! That was the word! He could perhaps try to court the femme to be his mate! But... He had no idea how to. 

Although, he could perhaps learn from her possibly. He is quite curious.

Arachnid had been feeling uneasy lately.  She would always feel a strange gaze on her every single cycle. Whenever she was out of her habsuite, or when she was at her job, the gaze was always there, on her. She thought she was merely feeling paranoia after that terrifying encounter with... whatever the hell that thing was! With that... That cybertronian mimicker with gold wings! Arachnid thought she was going insane, losing her processor because of that life threatening encounter. She really needed to see a Psychiatrist and try to find a way to get herself to calm down. It was getting in the way of her job! 

She let out a sigh as she headed back to her habsuite after she ended her shift. Tiring and running low of energy as she stretched her limbs. Maybe a nap could do her well, let her rest and forget about the day's troubles and that paranoia about someone watching her like a stalker. As she lay down on her back on her berth, she let out a well needed sigh of relief. Staring up at the ceiling of her habsuite before beginning to offline her optics to recharge. She'll refuel after she's well rested.  

Moments go by. Minute after Minute and Arachnid still couldn't feel calm. She could still feel the gaze of something on her. With a groan, she onlined her optics and sat up on her berth, rubbing her optics as they began to focus her vision. Her optics looked around and everything seemed normal at first before she noticed the broken window in her room. 

She froze, her body going rigid with dread as she stumbled off her berth. She grabbed the nearest item she had, a datapad. Not really effective but it would have to do as her weapon. 

"Whoever is in here, show yourself creep! I-I won't hesitate to-!" Arachnid said before letting a scream as the stranger in her habsuite emerged from the shadows. She threw the datapad right at the face of the stranger and was going to make a break for it, but paused when it made a whimper. 

She looked at the stranger, who was the mimicker with golden wings she encountered before! She was about to grabb another item to throw when the mimicker lowered itself on the floor, trying to look... not so imposing..? 

"Uh..." She was confused as she stared at the golden winged mimicker, who stared back at her. 

What in primus was she supposed to do now?!