One In A Billion | TFP

𝟎𝟎𝟗

I sat perched on the yellow chair in the Autobot base's human area in deep thought. My fingers absentmindedly twirled a lock of my scarlet hair as my eyes were fixed on my phone. The screen displayed the ominous text that had shaken me earlier in the day. I chewed my lip, deep in thought, as my mind spun through possibilities.

"Who could have sent this?" I mused to myself. The message had hinted at knowledge about my unique abilities and seemed to hold a threat against me and the Autobots. The idea that someone knew about my powers was disconcerting enough, but the notion that they might pose a danger to the Autobots, my targets, was even more unsettling.

Who was behind the text? Why had they done it? It just didn't make any sense. I looked around the silo, eyes darting from every bot to every human. Sure, these guys were like acquaintances, but they didn't know about the existence of my powers so surely none of them could've sent the text.

No one except Wheeljack, that is.

Quickly, I assessed the room to look for Wheeljack, spotting him leaning in a corner, meticulously polishing his gleaming katanas. His gaze was sharp and focused on the shiny pieces of weaponry that glimmered in his optics, carefully polishing the blade from the tip all the way back up.

Suspicion crept back into my thoughts. Wheeljack was the only person, or should I say car, that caught the use of my powers at point-blank range, back when I didn't know what his true identity was. In his car mode, he could've caught my face, and back when I saved his metal ass several nights ago on that midnight-robo-magic-showdown, Wheeljack could've also spotted me wielding them. I stared daggers at my so-called guardian since my best guess was that he had pretty much everything to do with the text.

Then again, the text mentioned something about Autobot protectors, which I basically was in the custody of as of this moment. The Autobots wouldn't do anything to hurt anyone, I was sure of that.

It made me slightly guilty of knowing how much I'd hurt them when this mission commenced, but I pushed all those thoughts aside and instead tried digging deeper into the mystery text fiasco, chiding myself for even considering Wheeljack as a potential suspect. Pulling out my phone, I opened the texting app and pulled up the unknown caller's texts. Scrolling through them, I assessed each speech bubble and read over the texts again and again. 

Watch out, Praxina Chenkov. Beware. We're coming for you.

Your doom. 

Your Autobot protectors won't be able to shield you forever. And neither will your powers.

It seemed pretty legitimate, nothing but a wake-up call to remind me that this indeed was no accident.

Whoever had sent me those texts was probably someone I didn't know.

The sleeper agent side of me started kicking in as I tried to do a mental investigation on who sent me such strange texts and why. The bots were clearly out of the question. And Jack, Miko, and Raf obviously had nothing to do with it since I had all their contacts. Someone from school maybe?

I pondered on the thought for some time, taking trips down memory lane in hopes that I'd catch something I missed. Even after a month of going to school, I didn't know anyone but Jack, Miko, and Raf, and I guess now that Vince kid counted too. Vince. The guy was too proud to even want to involve himself in all of this, Jack even said it himself. I remember him telling me a brief story about a time when he went street racing with the blowhard and he ended up in enemy hands, knocked out by a Decepticon named Knockout, simply because Knockout mistook Vince for Bumblebee's charge.

If Vince hadn't been out that long, he would've discovered the Autobots' existence and god knows how he'd react. But for now, it was safe to say that Vince wasn't to be considered, and probably no one at school. Even though the person behind the text was a mystery, I vowed to uncover the truth soon, and possibly exact my reven-