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TFP Emblem Chapter 11: Consequences Optimus and Ratchet stared at Cliffjumper in disbelief. Cliffjumper was killed then reanimated by Megatron with the help of Dark Energon, turning him into a Terrorcon or 'Zombie Con'. Instead of a decaying Terrorcon oozing purple with Dark Energon that Arcee had found, here stood the deep red warrior with a usual smirk and a golden deep voice. Cliffjumper had his arms crossed and looked at Optimus and Ratchet.TFP Emblem Chapter 11: Consequences by *DragonFlame123
"What? Do I have something in my grill?" Cliffjumper asked as he inspected himself.
"Your, your alive." Ratchet stammered in bewilderment, looking between Optimus and Cliff.
"Course I am! What else would I be?" Cliffjumper asked a in a smart alec tone. Optimus had pieced the puzzle together in his head. The Autobots never met the children because Cliffjumper hadn't died. But if Arcee never had the Dark Energon come in contact with her.
"So doc, can you fix me up? I got ambushed while I was on Morning Patrol." Cliffjumper said showing Ratchet a
Safe and Sound--Installment IIISafe and Sound--Installment III by ~primenatorgirl217
I don't know why I haven't snuck away yet. I fully intended to do so, the second Optimus turned his back and walked away. I even had myself convinced that it would just be a few laps around base.
That's a lie. It's the strangest feeling. Almost every single part of me longs to be burning rubber, to be tracking through every old stomping ground. To visit every place where Airachnid got the better of me, out of some pathetic hope she might still be there.
But here I am. Watching moonlight glowing off of the stones that mark Cliff's grave, wondering why in the Pit I'm not doing something actually useful.
I never was one for sitting and thinking. I figure things out on the open road, or even betteroff of it. Something about the ground soaring under you, the wind across your armor and the sun on your backsomething about that makes it easier to think clearly.
I don't sit and ponder the world like the great philosophers used to, back home. I'm too restle
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