November 10, 2011 (Refectory, Iacon) --- Hot Spot heads to the refectory in the hope of finding First Aid, but there isn't another Protectobot to be found. He does, however, see a familiar face. "Hammerstrike!" he says and bounds over. "How are you?" Hammerstrike had been sitting one a bench, still as a statue as he is prone to be, his optics barely a dim blue glow. Although he is leaned straight against the back of the bench and hands are placed stiffly at his side, there is almost a relaxed look about the mech. Almost. His stern facade is as grim as ever. Hammerstrike merely nods his head.