Thrift snaps his fingers and whips around to face Epsilon.
“An outstanding idea, my friend!” he compliments the bot. “It worked for the Chronicler’s Company, after all…”
“I don’t see a chance like that comin’ t’ the likes of us,” Breakout says. “We’re stuck with ya for the time being.”
“Like what?”
“We need to send them to prison.”
“Like that one time we went to war for five hundred years and the Decepticons turned entire planets into inhospitable death zones?” Salvo quips.
“And that’s just one of the more recent developments.”
Shakedown sighs.
“Whelp, there it is,” he says.
“Why can’t all Autobots be as cool as that one guy?” Tossup laments.
“Ah… Oh… Yeah… Sorry, I was born into the war, so it kinda became my reality.”
Song’s Autobot innerself striked back.
“Because you all are heretics!”
Epsilon nods in agreement, not getting the reference but rolling with it.
“We’ve all done horrible things over the course of this war; nobody’s hands are clean of committing atrocities that have been involved in this conflict.” Zepar said.
“But this doesn’t mean that we can’t punish ourselves.” Song said.
Spectrum covers her her ‘ears’ as the doors open.
She peers into the hallway.
“So, we need to assemble a task force then. Well, we will need to find some volunteers.”
“No time.” Epsilon said.
“True, but we can grab people on the way.”
Salvo takes a short step back; this came as a surprise to her.
“Really,” she reacts. “Wouldn’t’ve guessed that.”
“…So, what’s that like?”
“Uh… what if we just promise to be good little boys and not kill anyone?” Shakedown weakly offers.
The hallway was void of life- save for her own, Facelift’s, and those of the three neutrals, of course. Small rivulets of glowing energy could be seen marbling every surface- it would come as no surprise that it looked the same as what permeated the rest of Planet Omega, but they seemed especially bright here, in this facility.
“That… What?”
“We can’t trust you.” she said in a quite weurd way, almost like she was trying to convince herself of that.
Spectrum approached one of the statues.
“Being a war-born,” Salvo clarifies. “Never met one of you guys before.”
“Well, maybe you can’t…” Tossup tries to respond, “but…”
######“…Hey, Shakedown, help me out here…”
This particular statue was of a tall Knight bearing dark grey armor, and stood on one leg, its back pressed against a pillar. Veins of red energy marbled its right side.
“Well… I don’t know what to tell you. This period of peace seems… Not right.”
She raised an eyebrow.
Spectrum looked closer at the red energy, reaching out a blocky finger to poke it.
Salvo shifts and looks down at the ground.
Ah, slag, she thinks. That’s the most depressing thing I’ve heard all week.
The gunsmith is awkwardly silent.
Taking the hint, Shakedown pipes up.
“W-well,” he says. “We’ve… got enemy intelligence! Yeah, that’s it!”
Tossup plants his face in his hand.
Spectrum would feel a mild, painless shock as she touched the veins. For a moment, she’d feel quite energized, but it would pass quickly.
Spectrum quickly pulled her hand back.
She stepped back and looked around at the other statues, walking further into the hall.
“Be careful.” Zepar said as he went to try and figure out what was going on with the Key.