For all the potential jokes about his weight and size, Barricade would have liked to see their faces when the jokers found out he was on the smaller side of his species. It was nice having someone like Blackout or Starscream looming over your shoulder to prove a point, but neither of them were here. One was dead, the other AWOL. Business as usual.

Barricade walked further in, not quite as afraid of having the place come down on him as Demona. He'd tunneled his way out of worse. His headlights swept over the floor just like the one above, catching particles of sand as they drifted down from the ceiling.

"Aside from the sand getting everywhere and from what little we've seen, it doesn't look like anything's shifted," he said. Who knew how far down the foundation was, but it must be made of something impressive to stay rooted in a desert. "Nothing's warped beyond recognition here. So far, we're golden."