Police Station – Early Morning
— You have to believe me! I really saw my car… stand up! — Sam pleaded, his voice nearly cracking in desperation.
Inside the police station, the air felt heavy under the pale flicker of fluorescent lights reflecting off peeling walls. A rusty ceiling fan spun slowly overhead, creaking rhythmically in sync with the ticking of the wall clock. Through a small, grimy window, a faint drizzle could be seen falling outside, droplets clinging to the windowsill before dripping softly to the ground.
Sitting across from Sam was a middle-aged officer who had been silently listening to his story for the past hour. His expression was patient, but there was doubt in his eyes. Nearby, a younger officer leaned against a desk, arms crossed, occasionally smirking.
— Hey, kid… when's the last time you got high? — he sneered.
— I'm not on drugs! — Sam snapped.
— Yeah, that's what all the first-timers say.
Sam exhaled in frustration. The argument had dragged on for an hour with no progress. He glanced at the older officer, hoping for a hint of sympathy, but received only a tired sigh in return.
A few minutes later, another officer entered the room holding a test result, shaking his head.
— Negative. No substances in his system.
The younger officer raised an eyebrow, his smirk fading slightly.
— Negative again? That's the fifth time this week.
— Fifth time? — Sam frowned. — What do you mean?
The younger cop snorted, tossing the paper onto the desk.
— Yeah… we've been getting calls about 'walking cars' lately. Specifically, a police car standing up and walking around. Some people even came down here crying and screaming about it. We thought they were high too… but their tests came back clean.
— A police car? — Sam repeated, a chill running down his spine.
— Yeah. But that's not the weirdest part. — The younger officer glanced around before lowering his voice. — There have been murders lately… strange ones.
The room grew heavier. Sam swallowed hard.
— What kind of murders?
— Most victims… couldn't be identified. The bodies were torn apart. And you know the strangest part? — The officer paused, taking a deep breath.
— There was one survivor.
Silence filled the room. The ticking of the clock seemed louder in the stillness.
— A survivor? — Sam asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
— Yeah. A woman. Found her last week. Limbs shattered, blind in both eyes… but still alive.
Sam's heart pounded in his chest.
— Did she… say anything?
— She did. Said the police car… stood up. Attacked her.
The room felt so cold that Sam struggled to breathe. He shook his head, whispering almost unconsciously.
— Oh my God…
— It gets worse. — The young officer inhaled deeply, his voice dropping further. — The way she described the driver… it matched the face of a cop who died a month ago.
Sam's vision swam.
Outside, the wind howled against the window, rattling the glass.
Something was out there.
---
On the Way Home
Sam pedaled slowly down the empty road, the early morning breeze rustling through his messy hair. The sky was beginning to lighten, but to him, last night still felt like a strange dream — one he couldn't decide was insane or terrifying.
The wheels of his bike rolled steadily over the damp asphalt, tires humming softly. In the distance, the faint glow of streetlights flickered through the trees. Sam barely noticed. His mind was still spinning from what happened at the junkyard.
— I'm not crazy… I'm not… — he muttered under his breath.
Suddenly, headlights from the opposite side of the road flashed into his eyes. Sam squinted, then realized it was a police car parked by the roadside. A sleek, black Saleen S281 Mustang with the words "To Punish and Enslave" printed subtly along the side. Its lights blinked faintly, reflecting off the wet pavement.
Sam let out a breath.
— Police… finally doing early patrols. — He mumbled, pedaling faster to get home.
But he didn't notice… the car never moved. Its engine rumbled softly, cold and steady.
Behind the dark windshield, mechanical eyes flickered red… watching him silently.
A low, gravelly voice crackled from the car's speakers. A chilling whisper:
[I smell Cybertronian… on this insect…]
It's him — Barricade, the worst cop on Cybertron.
He didn't leave. He waited.
The dim morning light only made his silhouette darker, more menacing.
Far ahead, Sam had disappeared from view, blissfully unaware that the real nightmare… was only beginning.
---
Witwicky Residence
Sam stumbled through the front door, his legs heavy after a night of chaos. The overcast sky outside only made his exhaustion more evident.
He closed the door as quietly as possible, trying not to make a sound, but his hands trembled from sheer fatigue. The familiar scent of old paint and wood mixed with the sweat on his clothes — the smell of a sleepless night.
— Sam?!
His mother's voice echoed from the living room. He flinched, nearly dropping his keys. Judy Witwicky, dressed in her usual floral pajamas, stood at the doorway with her hands on her hips. Her expression shifted from surprise to anger in seconds.
— Where have you been?!
— I… I was out for a walk, — Sam stammered, looking down. But his disheveled hair and exhausted face betrayed him instantly.
— A walk? — Judy raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. — A walk that ended at a junkyard with police picking you up?!
Sam closed his eyes, sighing. The cops had been faster than he expected.
— Look… I just… I…
— Just what? — His father, Ron Witwicky, came down the stairs, still half-asleep. — Son, your mother was worried sick all night. The cops called at 4 a.m. and said you were wandering around a junkyard?
— I wasn't wandering! — Sam protested, his voice strained with exhaustion. — I was chasing…
He stopped. How could he explain this without sounding insane?
— Chasing what? — Ron frowned.
Sam bit his lip. The silence dragged on.
— A car.
— A car? — Judy's eyes widened. — Sam, don't tell me you spent the whole night chasing a car.
— It wasn't just a car! — Sam burst out, emotion spilling over. His chest felt tight as if he'd been holding this in for too long. — It… transformed.
A deadly silence hung over the room. His parents exchanged glances, then looked back at him.
— Transformed… how? — Ron squinted.
— It turned into a giant robot! — Sam threw his hands up, speaking faster. — I'm not crazy! I saw it with my own eyes! It was sending signals… or something… and the cops didn't see it because it changed back before they arrived!
Judy frowned, concern creeping into her expression.
— Sam… are you getting enough sleep?
— I'm not crazy! — He breathed heavily, his eyes red. — I know this sounds insane, but I saw it!
Ron sighed, rubbing his temples.
— Sam… look. Maybe you're just stressed… or watching too many sci-fi movies…
— I'm not imagining this! — Sam's voice cracked. — It's real!
His parents stared at him, their faces a mix of concern and confusion. Sam took a deep breath, leaning against the wall. He was more exhausted than ever.
— I just… need to sleep, — he muttered. — We'll talk later…
Without waiting for a response, Sam trudged up the stairs, leaving his parents standing there, worry etched across their faces.
Before entering his room, he glanced out the window. The Camaro was still parked silently outside. Quiet. Normal.
The sky brightened slowly, sunlight peeking through the trees. But in his mind, everything remained a chaotic mess.
— I'm not crazy… right?
He whispered again before shutting the door.
---
Afternoon — Sam's Backyard
The late afternoon sun cast a soft golden hue over everything — from the lawn to the sleek yellow Camaro parked quietly in Sam's driveway. But to Sam, this scene was anything but peaceful.
He stood with his hands on his hips, squinting at the car as if interrogating a witness.
- Alright... — Sam sighed, pointing sternly at the vehicle. — I know you're not just an ordinary car. Stop pretending.
Silence.
Sam snorted. He circled the car, occasionally tapping on the door with a knuckle.
- You think I'm crazy, don't you? — Sam tilted his chin. — But I saw it. At the junkyard last night — you turned into a giant robot… sent some signal into the sky… then acted like nothing happened.
Nothing but the faint rustle of the breeze through the trees.
Sam exhaled, stepped back a few paces, then threw his hands into the air like a game show host.
- Come on! Transform! Show me that awesome transformation from last night!
The Camaro… remained still.
Sam put his hands on his hips and leaned forward, peering straight into the windshield.
- You think I'm joking? — He squinted. — Transform. Now.
Nothing.
Sam sighed and dropped down onto the grass.
- Come on… You can't just keep pretending to be a car forever…
He picked up a small rock nearby and lightly tossed it against the car door. The soft clink echoed in the quiet.
Suddenly, a *beep beep* came from the horn.
Sam jolted, jumping to his feet.
- Wait! So you're finally showing yourself?!
He rushed over, placing both hands on the hood.
- Alright, do it again! Bigger this time! Transform into the robot!
Nothing.
Sam let out a heavy breath and leaned in closer.
- I know you can hear me… — he whispered. — Come on… transform…
Beep beep!
This time, the wipers suddenly flicked across the windshield — splashing water right into Sam's face.
-Ah! Seriously?!— Sam staggered back, wiping his face. — You've got to be kidding me!
The car remained still… but Sam swore he saw the headlights flicker, almost like they were laughing.
- Oh, hilarious! — Sam threw his hands up sarcastically. — I got arrested because of you! And now you're… spraying water on me?!
Silence.
Sam sighed and slumped against the Camaro.
- Great. Now I'm just some crazy guy talking to a car…
Just then, a neighbor walking by glanced over the fence, eyebrows raised.
- Hey, Sam… what are you doing?
Sam jumped, forcing a smile.
- Uh… just… checking the oil!
- Uh-huh… and you check oil by begging it to talk?
- Yeah… oil is very sensitive… — Sam mumbled, quickly turning away.
He looked at the car again, narrowing his eyes.
- Laugh it up… You won this round. But I'll catch you… sooner or later.
The car sat quietly in the evening sun, looking like… well, just a normal car.
But Sam didn't know… inside, the radio crackled to life, playing a short clip:
"You can't touch this…"
—
Late Afternoon — Suburban Road
Sam pedaled slowly down the empty suburban street, the cool breeze running through his hair, calming him down a bit. After everything that had happened since last night — the walking Camaro, getting arrested for "trespassing" — his head needed a break.
- Just a nice ride… — he muttered. — Get out of the house and forget everything…
But just as he started to relax, a chill ran down his spine. Sam glanced over his shoulder.
- No way…
In the distance, just behind the trees, a familiar yellow Camaro rolled slowly down the road.
- Oh, come on… — Sam's eyes widened.
He started pedaling faster, head low over the handlebars.
- You think you're funny, huh?!
The car sped up slightly. Not enough to catch him — just enough to keep him squirming.
Sam gritted his teeth and pedaled harder.
- I just wanted a peaceful ride! Leave me alone!
The Camaro… kept following.
Breath heaving, sweat dripping down his forehead, Sam clenched his jaw.
- Alright! You wanna play like that?!
He shifted gears, standing up to pedal with all his strength. The bike tires screeched against the asphalt.
But just as he glanced back to check the distance —
*BAM!*
- Oh my God! — Sam shouted as he crashed to the ground, bike and all.
- Sam?!
Sam looked up, embarrassment rushing to his face. Standing right in front of him was Mikaela — and a few other girls from the nearby café, all staring at him in surprise. Soft giggles echoed among the group, while Mikaela seemed genuinely concerned.
- You okay?
- You… know him?— one of the girls asked.
- Yeah, classmate.
Sam scrambled to his feet, brushing off his clothes awkwardly.
- Yeah! Yeah! I'm fine!
- Were you… running from someone?
Sam forced a laugh, eyes darting toward the yellow Camaro parked across the street — looking completely innocent.
- No! No! — He shook his head. — Just… working out!
Mikaela raised an eyebrow, half skeptical.
- Working out?
- Yeah! Totally! Athletic stuff! Very… intense! — Sam stammered, hurriedly picking up his bike. — I… I gotta go!
Before Mikaela could ask another question, Sam hopped on his bike and pedaled away like an Olympic sprinter.
Mikaela watched him for a second, then turned back toward her moped.
- Where you going, girl?
- Oh… just remembered I have something to do.
Not that anyone needed more explanation. They glanced at each other… then burst into laughter.
—
- Stop following me! — Sam panted, shouting between breaths.
But the Camaro… kept following.
- You've gotta be kidding me! — Sam yelled, pedaling furiously, throwing a glance over his shoulder.
The road ahead led to an old junkyard. An idea sparked in Sam's mind.
- Alright… You wanna play hide and seek?
He swerved into the junkyard, weaving between rusted cars stacked like metal mountains. The Camaro's engine rumbled somewhere behind him, but Sam ducked through narrow paths, slipping between piles of twisted metal.
- Don't get seen… Don't get seen… — he whispered, heart pounding.
Finally, he crouched behind an old truck. Breathing hard, he peeked through a gap between the cars. The Camaro rolled by slowly, headlights sweeping the area like searchlights.
- You're not that smart… — Sam whispered, trying to calm his breath.
The car continued down the path and eventually disappeared behind another stack of cars.
Sam exhaled deeply, wiping sweat from his forehead.
- Lost him…
He leaned back against the cold metal, closing his eyes for a brief second. But just as he began to relax —
*BEEP BEEP!*
The horn blared right next to him. Sam's eyes snapped open — the Camaro was parked inches away, headlights flickering like it was… laughing.
- You've gotta be kidding me! — Sam shouted, panicking as he jumped back on his bike and sped off again.
The Camaro rolled forward at a calm, steady pace. It had no face… but somehow, it looked like it was smiling.
Sam gasped for breath, sweat dripping down his forehead. He had just slumped down behind a pile of old cars, trying to muffle his breathing to avoid making a sound. The yellow Camaro—Bumblebee—had been silently tailing him for a long stretch. It kept appearing everywhere, as if playing a game of hide and seek with him.
— I'm going crazy… or… — Sam whispered, his heart pounding. — Or something is seriously wrong…
Suddenly, from a distance, a siren wailed, and familiar flashing red and blue lights lit up the pale gray sky. Sam squinted, recognizing a police car approaching.
— Oh, thank God… — He exhaled in relief, jumping up and waving frantically. — Hey! Over here! Over here!
The police car blared its siren, accelerating toward him at an alarming speed. Sam hesitated, frowning.
— Uh… that's a bit too fast, isn't it?
Before he could fully process what was happening, the car screeched to a halt right in front of him, its door slamming open with a deafening bang.
Sam took a step back, his heartbeat thudding against his ribs.
— Uh…
At that moment, the front of the car began to shift. The wheels detached, metal joints grinding against each other with a sharp screech. In a blink, a towering robot with glowing red eyes stood before him.
A menacing, terrifying figure—its heavily armored frame was a sleek black, streaked with silver scars beneath its outer plating, battle-worn from countless fights. Broad shoulders and rugged joints hissed as they moved. On its chest, a deeply carved emblem stared back at Sam, a silent warning.
The red eyes gleamed with cold calculation, but there was no rush—like a predator savoring the moment as its prey sank deeper into despair. Two massive wheels embedded in its forearms whirred ominously with each step, exuding raw, unmasked brutality.
Barricade was not reckless. He was a patient hunter, crushing his victims piece by piece... simply because he could.
— What the hell…?! — Sam gasped, stumbling back in terror.
Barricade leaned forward, slowly but deliberately. The metal joints in his body groaned with a piercing shriek, yet he remained eerily composed, as if relishing every agonizing second of fear.
His voice was deep, steady—each word forged from metal, weighted, soaked in chilling menace. He spoke perfect English—a jarring contrast to his demonic appearance.
— Tell me… — he growled, every syllable slicing through the thick air, reeking of oil and rust. — Where is the mute Autobot scout?
Sam swallowed dryly, his eyes wide, his breath heavy as if his lungs were constricting.
— What scout? I… I don't know what you're talking about!
Barricade tilted his head slightly, the crimson glow in his eyes darkening, as if he was weighing Sam's words. A slow, deliberate calculation—like a predator deciding whether to rip its prey apart or swallow it whole.
— Don't lie… — he whispered, his voice as soft as the wind, but the blade on his arm had already begun to extend, hissing like a sharpened edge. — I saw you trailing him. Don't make me ask again… Where. Is. He?
Sam instinctively stepped back, his foot catching on a pile of broken metal behind him, nearly sending him to the ground. Sweat trickled down his forehead, his breath dry and shaky.
— I swear I don't know! — He shouted, his voice cracking. — You… you should check your sensors again!
A moment of silence.
Then Barricade smirked—not out of amusement.
But out of deadly patience.
— My sensors work perfectly… — he murmured, extending a clawed hand, his red eyes glowing in the dim light. — But if necessary… I will recalibrate them with the sound of your bones breaking.
Sam's heart pounded violently in his chest. He couldn't hesitate anymore. He spun around and bolted, his ragged breaths blending with the roar of an engine behind him—a slow, relentless predator.
— You cannot run forever, insect.
Barricade lunged after Sam, each step crushing the ground beneath him, shattered metal scattering with every impact.
In that moment, even the air felt suffocating under his weight.
— Oh God, oh God, oh God… — Sam gasped, his legs frantically kicking up dust and debris from the scrapyard.
Behind him, Barricade was mere meters away. Sam glanced back—his glowing red eyes blazed in the twilight, and for a split second, he was certain he was done for.
But then, from the distance…
*Beep beep!*
A familiar car horn blared. Sam turned his head, spotting the yellow Camaro speeding toward him at breakneck speed.
— You?! — Sam shouted. — Please, help me!
The car accelerated, ramming straight into Barricade just as he reached out for Sam. The clash of metal rang through the air.
Sam didn't stop to look. He kept running, panting and shouting in panic.
— I need a vacation… and a better bike!
He suddenly collided with Mikaela, who was racing in on a motorcycle, sending both of them crashing to the ground.
— Mikaela, what are you doing here?! — He gasped, scrambling to his feet.
— I should be asking you that! Why do you look like you're being chased?!
— Run! This place isn't safe!
— What do you mean…?
Before she could finish, Sam's familiar Camaro abruptly returned. Part of its body transformed into a massive mechanical arm, grabbing both of them and yanking them into the car. In the distance, Barricade—now in police car mode—was speeding toward them like a furious predator, his siren wailing.
— What the hell? Sam!? — Mikaela shrieked.
— I don't know! But if that thing has seen both of us… we're not getting away easily!
The car roared and sped into the scrapyard, leaving behind the thunderous growl of an engine closing in.
The yellow Camaro tore through the scrapyard's narrow alleys, its tires screeching against the dusty, rusted terrain. Barricade was right on its tail, closing the distance with each powerful burst of speed.
— Are you sure you can shake him off?! — Mikaela yelled, gripping the seat.
— Shake him off? What do you think I am, Houdini?! — Sam shot back, his face pale but still attempting a joke.
The Camaro suddenly swerved sharply left, narrowly avoiding a towering pile of wreckage. Barricade was so close that one more second would have crushed the car's rear. The roar of engines filled the scrapyard, metal clashing in a brutal symphony.
— Hey! Don't let him get so close! — Sam shouted.
The car radio crackled to life, playing a quote from Churchill:
"If you're going through hell… keep going."
— Not the time for philosophy! — Sam hissed as Barricade rammed into the back of the car, nearly spinning it sideways.
The Camaro twisted and slipped through a tight gap between two old excavators. Barricade, only seeing its tail lights, slammed straight into one of them, triggering a small explosion. Smoke and dust billowed in the background.
— See?! Told you to be Houdini for a second! — Sam laughed nervously, his hands still trembling.
— Don't celebrate yet! — Mikaela warned. — He's not dead!
From the smoke, two burning red eyes reappeared.
Barricade had risen again.
And this time, he was smiling.
[Keep running. But you won't hide forever.]
—-
The Camaro sped toward the nearby abandoned power plant, its rusted metal panels and massive pipelines looming faintly in the dusk. Behind them, Barricade remained in relentless pursuit, his engine roaring with such fury that it seemed he was pouring every ounce of rage into each passing meter.
— You said he wasn't dead — I believe you now! — Sam shouted, nearly screaming to drown out the roar of the engine.
They weaved through rows of pipelines, darting down a narrow passage, but Barricade didn't slow down. He plowed through a line of old oil drums, igniting a small explosion behind them.
The yellow Camaro streaked past Barricade like an arrow, overtaking him from behind and kicking up a cloud of dust in the air. Sam and Mikaela barely had time to cry out as the Camaro suddenly swerved in front of Barricade, forcing him to swerve sharply. Bumblebee slammed on the brakes, the car doors flung open, nearly tossing the two humans to the ground.
— We have to run!
Sam and Mikaela stumbled to their feet, barely managing a few steps before a faint noise echoed from behind.
— Wait… — Mikaela gasped. — What… what is that?
A small figure crawled out of Barricade's chassis — wiry, hunched, its glowing blue eyes flickering with malice. The sharp clatter of metal echoed in the oil-scented air.
It was Frenzy.
He hunched low, joints creaking as his metallic frame stretched to the size of a full-grown man. His movements were jerky, his head tilted awkwardly to one side as if every motion was painful — but his eyes were different. They burned with fury, not out of duty.
But because he was truly angry.
[I'M GONNA SKIN YOU BOTH!!!]
His voice shrieked, like metal grinders screaming against steel. Frenzy lunged at them, his clawed fingers gouging the concrete, leaving deep, jagged scratches in his wake.
— Holy crap! — Sam shouted, voice catching in his throat. — What the hell is that!? Why does he want to skin us!?
— Does it matter?! RUN! — Mikaela grabbed Sam's hand and yanked him toward the exit. Her heart pounded so violently it felt like she could hear each beat echoing inside her chest. — Wait! How do you understand what he's saying!?
— Huh? What? — Sam gasped, eyes wild with panic. He was too scared to process what Mikaela had just said.
— Forget it! Just run!
Frenzy charged after them, shards of metal flying with each pounding step. He howled, but there was something different in his scream — not just rage.
It was personal hatred.
Not for the mission.
But because he was genuinely pissed off.
The humiliating journey that had brought him here had eroded every shred of patience he had left.
After nearly being left for dead by Blackout in Qatar, he had clawed his way into the cramped cargo hold of a civilian airplane — tight, sweltering, and shaking like it was about to explode. That was nothing compared to the first task Barricade had given him upon arriving in America: crawling through the stinking sewers, digging through piles of sludge for a device Barricade could have easily requested a replacement for — but no. The bastard thought it was beneath him.
Frenzy didn't care about the reason. He only knew he'd been treated like garbage, and now, every punch, every breath was dedicated to venting that fury on the two humans in front of him.
A journey of humiliation and frustration — enough to drive anyone mad.
—-
Meanwhile
In the tense atmosphere of the power plant, both machines transformed almost simultaneously.
The Camaro shuddered violently, metal plates snapping apart with a series of clanking noises. The car doors shifted into something resembling insect wings, the grille sliding down to form a solid chest. The rear wheels rotated backward to become part of the ankles, while the front wheels folded onto the back. Hydraulic pistons locked into place, completing the sturdy form of a battle-ready soldier.
Barricade retaliated immediately. The police cruiser exploded outward with a deafening mechanical roar. His doors folded back over his shoulders into two sharp fins. The hood split down the middle, pressing down against his chest with a jagged, mask-like emblem glowing fiercely. The headlights shifted from yellow to burning red, and the wheels slid onto the backs of his hands, forming a hulking, vicious frame — brutal and monstrous.
The two machines stood tall, facing each other — no words left to say.
[Bumblebee, you have no idea how long I've been hunting for your head.]
Bumblebee — the being disguised as the Camaro — stared at his enemy.
He didn't want to fight.
Not out of fear, but because he knew this fight wasn't in his favor.
Barricade wasn't just powerful; he was ruthless and methodical. A predator who loved to play with his prey before delivering the final blow.
Bumblebee swallowed the growing sense of unease. He knew that if given the chance, Barricade would crush him without hesitation. But Sam… Sam was still out there. And Sam mattered — more than Bumblebee's own life at this moment.
He clenched his fists, the engines on his back rumbling softly as his combat systems came online.
Barricade chuckled, eyes flashing with twisted delight.
[I can see it in your eyes, Bumblebee,] he sneered, voice low and grinding like metal on metal.
[You know you can't win.]
Bumblebee said nothing. He only lowered his stance, ready to charge.
[But you'll fight anyway, won't you?] Barricade tilted his head, the grin on his face widening. [Good. Because I'm curious to see — how long you'll last before you break.]
Then he lunged.
Fast. Strong. Like a living nightmare crashing down on Bumblebee.
Only the fight remained.
—-
The battle between Bumblebee and Barricade erupted violently in the cramped space of the power plant. Steel pillars shook under the weight of the two colossal machines. Metal clashed with ear-piercing shrieks, sparks flying through the thick night air reeking of oil and smoke.
Barricade charged like a predator, his punches heavy as sledgehammers, crushing everything in his path. He didn't rush — each strike was slow but precise, driving Bumblebee further into a corner. Concrete cracked, pipes shattered, and steam hissed through the haze.
Bumblebee fought back, but Barricade was always one step ahead. A brutal uppercut pinned Bumblebee against a steel wall, the impact so forceful the metal bent under the strain. Barricade didn't stop. His metallic fingers dug into Bumblebee's shoulder, piercing through the yellow armor, bending and breaking the plates under monstrous pressure.
Bumblebee roared in pain, struggling to break free, but Barricade suddenly lifted him and slammed him into the ground. A deafening crash echoed as the concrete shattered beneath the impact, leaving a deep crater.
Barricade loomed over him, eyes glinting with cruel delight.
[How does it feel?] He chuckled through the smoke. [Not enough, is it?]
Bumblebee rolled aside, dodging the next crushing stomp, but Barricade didn't give him a chance. The wheel on Barricade's right hand spun into a high-speed saw, slamming into Bumblebee's shoulder.
Bumblebee clenched his jaw as the blade sliced through armor, severing cables and energy lines. Electricity surged violently through his frame, causing his joints to flicker. Oil leaked from the wound, mixing with smoke and sparks.
He staggered but refused to fall.
With a desperate surge, Bumblebee lunged, throwing a punch at Barricade's head. But Barricade was faster — a vicious upward kick slammed into Bumblebee's midsection, sending him skidding across the floor. Metal groaned as he left a trail of sparks and oil in his wake.
Bumblebee gasped for breath, one shoulder nearly shattered, engine leaking, joints creaking with every movement.
Barricade approached slowly, eyes burning in the dark.
[That's your problem, Bumblebee,] he said, voice calm and low. [You fight like you expect to survive. I don't… I fight to enjoy it.]
No further warning.
Barricade grabbed Bumblebee's head and slammed him into the ground. Metal cracked.
Bumblebee froze.
One second… two seconds…
Then he roared.
With a burst of instinct, Bumblebee twisted free, swinging his legs to kick Barricade in the midsection. It was strong enough to push him back — but not to bring him down.
Bumblebee stood, smoke rising from his joints.
Barricade chuckled, electricity flickering across his frame.
[Better… But when will you realize… I'm still just playing?]
Bumblebee clenched his fists, engines roaring once more.
No more backing down.
The fight wasn't over.
---
Meanwhile, in another corner, Sam and Mikaela were struggling with Frenzy — but this wasn't a heroic battle. It looked more like a comedy scene.
[Stand still, will you?!] — Frenzy screeched, leaping at Sam, but the boy rolled to the side, sending the small Decepticon crashing headfirst into a trash can.
[What the slag is this stupid thing?!] — He staggered back up, cursing as he pulled out a small blade from his arm.
Mikaela grabbed a nearby metal rod and — *Whack!* — with one swift swing, she smashed it across Frenzy's head, spinning it 180 degrees.
— Oh my God! — Sam burst out laughing but quickly kept running as Frenzy fumbled to realign his head.
[I'll tear you two apart!] — Frenzy howled, but after only a few steps, he slipped and face-planted into a tangle of electrical cables.
A crackling sound filled the air as electricity surged through him, causing his body to twitch violently before smoke started rising.
Sam and Mikaela stood there, gasping for breath. They looked at each other… and burst out laughing.
— He might just self-destruct before he even catches us, — Mikaela exhaled, hands on her knees.
— Yeah… but hey, maybe we should keep running? — Sam nodded toward Frenzy, who was now shakily getting back up, joints clanking noisily.
— Run? Hell yes! — they both shouted and took off at full speed.
—-
Heavy metal footsteps pounded against the ground, cracking the concrete under his overwhelming weight. Bumblebee panted, his engine sputtering weakly as he struggled to stay upright. His left shoulder was nearly shattered, hydraulic fluid trailing behind him in long, dark streaks.
[Get up…] — Barricade narrowed his optics, his voice cold and taunting.
[There's no glory in dying on your knees.]
Bumblebee rose from the rubble, brushing off the dust coating his battered armor. His bright blue eyes glowed — but this time, there was no youthful warmth. Only cold determination remained.
The radio on his chest clicked and shifted frequencies before playing a low, gravelly voice:
"Nobody remembers the nice guy… they only remember the winner."
Bumblebee took a step back, not out of fear but out of calculation. His gaze was calm, his movements measured — as if weighing each decision carefully.
He knew… brute strength wouldn't save him in this fight.
Barricade charged, his right arm shifting into a high-speed rotary saw, tearing through the air with a deafening screech. Bumblebee dodged right, deliberately a half-second too late, allowing the saw to scrape across his side, ripping away a chunk of his armor.
Sparks flew.
Barricade sneered.
But Bumblebee had planned it.
He clung to Barricade.
Not to confront him… but to lead him.
As Barricade continued to swing with bone-crushing force, Bumblebee weaved through the machinery, timing each dodge so the attacks slammed into pipes and transformers. Every missed blow sent explosions rippling through the factory, steam and sparks filling the air, obscuring Barricade's vision.
Bumblebee used the darkness.
He moved fast. Silent. Weaving through the thick smoke.
[Hiding?] — Barricade's voice was calm but laced with scorn.
[How disappointing.]
He swung the saw again… but this time, it stopped short — tangled in the thick electrical cables Bumblebee had deliberately led him into.
Barricade roared, yanking at the saw with all his strength. But the more he pulled, the more the electrical system overloaded. Sparks exploded, arcs of electricity surging through his body.
Bumblebee didn't waste the opportunity.
He lunged forward, jumping into the air, twisting mid-spin, and landing a spinning kick straight to Barricade's chest.
*Boom!*
The impact was powerful enough to send Barricade flying out of the tangled wires, slamming him into a steel wall. Bumblebee raised his arm, the hand shifting into a cannon, bright blue energy pulsing as he fired straight at Barricade.
Barricade snarled, twisting to the side — but not fast enough. The blast grazed his shoulder, tearing away chunks of armor, leaving sparks flickering in the open wounds. He staggered but quickly regained his footing, his red optics blazing with fury.
[You Autobots… always the same,] — Barricade growled, brushing away the sparking circuits on his chest.
[Fighting like you're begging for a chance…]
He charged forward again, each step hammering the ground, shaking the concrete with the force of a freight train. Bumblebee fired another volley, but Barricade raised his arms, letting the blasts detonate harmlessly against his armor.
As the distance closed, Barricade swung, his fist colliding with Bumblebee's chest. The force hurled Bumblebee backward, slamming him into a steel pillar. Metal groaned and cracked under the impact, sparks exploding in all directions.
But Bumblebee didn't fall.
Before Barricade could move in for the kill, Bumblebee twisted to his feet. His blue optics flared with fierce determination. He didn't wait — his engine roared as he charged forward, slamming his shoulder into Barricade, sending them both crashing through a row of broken steel beams.
Barricade howled in pain, but Bumblebee didn't stop. He followed up with an uppercut strong enough to shatter the plating on Barricade's face, sending him staggering, his feet scraping against the debris-covered floor.
*"I told you…"* — the voice on Bumblebee's radio crackled again. — *"Nobody remembers the nice guy… they only remember the winner."*
This time, Bumblebee raised his cannon, firing a powerful blast into Barricade's chest. The explosion sent him flying, crashing into the ground with a deep, smoking crater.
Bumblebee panted, his frame trembling from the brutal fight. He stared at the wreckage for a moment… but his blue optics flickered cautiously.
From within the thick smoke, metal shifted slowly.
Barricade was still alive.
He pushed himself up, sparks crawling across his broken frame. One optic was dim, half his face collapsed, but he smiled — a bloody, stubborn grin.
[I gonna tell you…] — he rasped, his voice rough and mocking.
[You only win… when I let you.]
Suddenly, he deployed a face shield.
*Clunk!*
From his shoulder, a small launcher popped up — a tiny, unassuming cylinder. Bumblebee realized it too late.
*Bang!*
A blinding flash detonated right in front of him, engulfing everything in painful, searing white. Bumblebee stumbled back, his optics flickering as he desperately tried to reboot his vision sensors.
He growled through his radio, his engine revving furiously.
For those few seconds of blindness, only sound remained.
Roaring.
Tires screeching over shattered concrete.
Metal clashing.
And then, the high-pitched whine of tires sliding to a stop.
As Bumblebee's vision gradually returned, he caught only the fading trail of flames on the road — and the last glimpse of Barricade vanishing into the smoke.
He had escaped.
Again.
Bumblebee watched the horizon but didn't chase. He knew Barricade had lost… but someone like him would come back. And next time, it wouldn't be this easy.
Bumblebee turned and walked away — but he wasn't relaxed.
He knew… Barricade always had another plan.
—-
As Sam and Mikaela dashed through the narrow corridors of the factory, the clanking sound of metal echoed rapidly behind them. Frenzy — small, awkward, but stubborn — kept chasing relentlessly, his clattering footsteps like a maddened predator.
[Stop! Stop right there!] — Frenzy shrieked, his high-pitched, grating voice reverberating through the empty space.
He lunged forward but tripped over a dangling power cable, crashing hard onto the floor.
[What kind of cursed place is this?!] — he growled, adjusting his leg joints before slamming a fist on the ground, his red eyes burning with fury.
Ahead, Sam and Mikaela suddenly split off in two different directions.
[What the…?!] — Frenzy skidded to a halt, looking left, then right, confusion clear on his small metallic face.
He let out a low growl, teeth grinding as he glanced toward Mikaela. Part of him wanted to chase her — but the memory of that brutal smack made him hesitate.
[I'm not getting smacked again!] — he muttered.
Snapping his head toward Sam, he made his decision. In his mind, Sam was the bigger threat — and letting the girl go would at least save him a shred of dignity.
— I'll deal with you first! — he snarled, his tiny legs clanking furiously against the concrete floor.
Sam kept running, glancing back over his shoulder — but halfway through…
— Aaaaah! — He let out a panicked yell as Frenzy suddenly leapt onto his leg. Metal claws clung to his pants, scratching wildly.
[You're not getting away from me!] — Frenzy cackled, his twisted face gleeful with triumph.
Sam kicked frantically, but Frenzy clung on like superglue.
— Let go! Let go!
Mikaela, standing nearby, quickly grabbed a small metal rod.
— *Whack!* — The crushing blow sent Frenzy flying off Sam's leg, slamming into the wall with a loud metallic clang.
[Aaaagh!!!] — He screeched in rage, but as he struggled to stand, a loose metal beam from the ceiling fell and landed squarely on his head.
— Oh my God… — Sam and Mikaela watched as he sparked and twitched before finally collapsing into a motionless heap.
— Did he… self-destruct? — Mikaela squinted, her voice still trembling slightly.
— Looks like it… — Sam exhaled, hands on his knees. But just as he caught his breath…
Bumblebee appeared. His frame was covered in smoke and dust, armor scratched and dented. A thin line of oil trickled down his right arm, but he stood tall, blue eyes glowing with unshakable resolve.
Sam let out a relieved smile.
— Let's go! — Mikaela tugged his hand.
Bumblebee shifted back into his yellow Camaro form. The doors swung open, ready.
As soon as Sam and Mikaela got in, Bumblebee sped off at breakneck speed, tires screeching over the shattered concrete. Behind them lay the ruined factory and two defeated foes.
Frenzy — now a twitching pile of scrap metal with faint sparks flickering.
Barricade — vanished into the night, but not for long.
—
The yellow Camaro raced down the empty highway, leaving behind a trail of dust hovering in the golden hues of sunset. After the heart-pounding chase with Barricade, the atmosphere inside the car finally began to calm. Sam sank back into his seat, letting out a long breath.
— Hey… do you think we're gonna be running for the rest of our lives? — Mikaela exhaled, her hands still slightly trembling from the pursuit.
— Well… — Sam chuckled softly. — I guess we just need to keep our spirits up, like those famous historical figures.
— Like who? — Mikaela glanced at him, raising an eyebrow.
— Like… George Washington. You know, he lost a bunch of battles before becoming the first president of the United States. But what made him great was… he never gave up.
— That's nice, but did Washington ever get chased by a psycho police robot? — Mikaela laughed.
Sam shrugged. — Well… no. But hey, at least we're not freezing our butts off crossing the Delaware on Christmas Eve, right?
Bumblebee suddenly played a radio clip in a comedian's voice:
— "So you think being hunted by a killer robot is no big deal?"
Mikaela burst into laughter while Sam leaned against the steering wheel, grinning.
— Alright, alright! But seriously, I've always admired guys like Washington or Alexander the Great. They weren't perfect, but they kept moving forward no matter what. Did you know Alexander once said, "Nothing is impossible to him who will try"?
— That's pretty cool. — Mikaela nodded. — But I think you should focus less on philosophy and more on staying alive.
— Hey, I'm just trying to boost morale! — Sam laughed. — And besides… not everyone gets to run from killer robots with a beautiful girl.
— Thanks… I think? — Mikaela shook her head but smiled anyway.
Bumblebee suddenly played a triumphant piece of music.
— So… who are we meeting, exactly? — Sam asked curiously.
Bumblebee was silent for a moment, then played another radio clip with a calm, serious voice:
— "The ones who will change this war forever."
The mood inside the car shifted to something more serious. In the distance, the red hues of sunset dipped below the horizon — a brief moment of peace before the storm returned.
---
Barricade hid in a corner. When he was sure the enemies had left, he staggered out into the empty lot behind the power plant. Each step left deep dents in the ground, his armor peeling off in jagged chunks. His joints screeched with the strain, and dark oil mixed with glowing blue fluid dripped steadily onto the grass.
Not far away, Frenzy lay sprawled on the ground, his hands twitching uncontrollably. One arm bent at an unnatural angle, sparks crackling from exposed wires. His mouth emitted weak static noises — a sight that almost made Barricade chuckle.
[Get up, you little runt.]
He flicked Frenzy hard on the head. *Thud!*
[Ow! Damn you!]
Frenzy yelped, clutching his head as he rolled around on the ground, groaning and hissing in pain.
[Who's gonna pay if I lose my brilliant mind?!]
Barricade shrugged, his tone flat with a hint of mockery.
[Don't worry... there's another one in the group anyway.]
Frenzy blinked, narrowing his eyes in irritation.
[Yeah? Like he's any better than me.]
But then his gaze shifted to Barricade. He sniffed and curled his lip in a sneer.
[Now that I think about it… So much for being tough. You got wrecked by a scout.]
Barricade stayed silent, merely raising an eyebrow. Frenzy went on, his voice dripping with scorn.
[Look at you. Couldn't even catch a couple of bugs, and now you're falling apart.]
He ground his teeth, his blue eyes flaring with anger.
[Are you talking to me?] — His voice screeched, high-pitched and grating like metal scraping against metal. [You got trashed by some low-level grunt, and you're calling me out?!]
He let out a distorted, mocking laugh.
[If I were your size, that punk would've been scrap metal by now.]
Barricade didn't respond right away. He simply stared at Frenzy with cold contempt. Then, in a low, deliberate voice that seemed to crush every word, he spoke.
[If you were my size?] — He sneered. [You'd get smashed just like I did.]
Frenzy froze for a second before letting out a frustrated growl, stomping the ground.
[I'm smarter than you! I swear I'll—]
[Shut up.]
Two simple words. But Barricade's voice was sharp and cold as a blade. Frenzy's rant came to an abrupt halt, his twisted face trembling with rage. Barricade narrowed his eyes, leaning casually against the debris. His tone remained calm, but there was something chilling beneath it.
[If you want to prove yourself, then do it. Don't just bark.]
Frenzy gulped and took a small step back. He muttered under his breath, no longer daring to push further.
[Anyway…] — Barricade straightened up, casually brushing a loose shard of metal off his armor.
[I've already achieved my objective. Look at this.]
His eyes flashed, projecting a hologram. A map appeared, with a blinking red dot pulsing steadily.
Bumblebee.
Frenzy stopped smirking. His expression shifted to one of awe.
[You… planted a tracker on him?]
Barricade smiled coldly. His gaze burned with deadly calm.
[He has no idea.]
[I don't need to win the battle… if I can win the war.]
Frenzy shuddered — not out of fear, but excitement.
[You bastard… I like the way you think.]
In the distance, lightning split the sky, briefly illuminating the night before plunging back into darkness.
End of Chapter 6