Cold.

It's so cold. Colder than cold, but not freezing. More like all the heat from his Spark is dissipating into thin air, slipping away like sand through his servos.

Soundwave knows that he's not going to make it without urgent medical help. He knows that his communication systems are fried. He knows that this wasn't even on purpose, that the Autobots would never go out of their way to permanently offline him, and that the trap he carelessly set off wasn't set up right.

He knows that the Autobots, should they find him, wouldn't hesitate to help him.

But Soundwave also knows that the chances of being found in time are extremely low, next to impossible.

Warnings blare behind his visor, informing him that almost all of his critical systems are failing, something that he already knows.

At least his cassettes are safe and sound. He'd ejected them all as soon as he saw the botched traps, with the promise that he'd be safe and return to the Nemesis soon.

It's the first time Soundwave's ever lied to the cassettebots, and he knows that Ravage, Laserbeak and Frenzy (maybe Rumble as well) probably didn't believe him in the slightest but chose to trust him.

It hurts, hurts far more than his impending death, that he had to betray his wonderful cassettes that had given him nothing but their unwavering loyalty and trust.

Soundwave's optics are dimming more and more by the klick, and distantly he wonders if Megatron will be upset. If he'd rush out a revenge plot, or simply not care that his most loyal soldier just didn't return from patrol. Perhaps Starscream would finally manage to overthrow him, and maybe the Autobots would win the war. Or maybe Soundwave not being there anymore wouldn't change a thing and he'd just get replaced.

He wonders if his cassettes would remain loyal to Megatron, or go to the only other Cassette Player they know of; Soundblaster. He hates the mech, but if the cassettes would be happier with him, he can put his hate aside.

Primus, he's cold.