“Well, there goes it all…” Zip mutters, dropping his gun to the ground.
Cargo and Coalburn are speechless.
Liege Maximo clutches his grievous wound with his left hand, his right arm now only barely attached by sparse strands of bloody cabling. His breathing ragged, his sparkchamber is visible within the wound on his front, and he is clearly fighting to stay conscious.
“I’m sorry…” is all he can faintly, bleakly pant. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”
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“Primus, please let me heal this man!” Seraphicon said as he brought the Forge down on Liege with the desire to repair him.
“I’m going to make sure you survive, even if I have to carry your Spark in me to do it.” He said as he hammered Liege, “We will find a way, we will find a way…” He repeated, trying to give himself and everyone in earshot hope as he tried to repair the Prime of Lies.
He wasn’t going to let the Heralds take hope from these people. They want a Prime? Liege will have to do.
Liege Maximo emits a strangled cry as the Forge strikes him, however the hammer’s power does begin to heal his wound.
“No. No. No, nonononono, this can’t be-… we can’t-…” Bootleg frantically, hopelessly sputters. “No…”
Ironclad drops the broken Rhisling with a clatter and sinks to his knees, speechless.
Seraphicon kept hammering at Liege, he wasn’t going to let this life be taken away. This was an act of defiance: The Primes and their legacy will not be destroyed by the Heralds.
He worked too hard to fight The Heralds, he wasn’t going to lose hope; he was going to find some way to stop the Heralds, no matter how long it took, he’ll find a way.
Firestorm flies over and sees the pieces of The Matrix, it did happen. Now, Primus and the Allspark were next. He held the pieces in his hands, unable to put to words the turmoil he felt.
Father Auros prayed for some way to be revealed to the relic hunters of how to save Cybertron.
The three hunters sit. Cargo is distraught, burying his face in his hands. Coalburn is depressed, his fire burning slower than ever. Zip even struggles to keep happy.
At this point, Seraphicon’s hammering was now hurting Liege.
The other NPCs who had remained on the ship follow Firestorm to the city. Once they become aware of the situation, they react much how one might expect.
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Seraphicon stopped, stepping back and looking at the Forge and broken relics, wondering if he could repair them as well.
He asks Firestorm if he could look at the pieces of the Matrix and Rhisling.
The Knight, mournfully, complies.
Seraphicon takes a deep breath and hopes, with every ounce of his being, he could fix the relics.
Primus, Primes, hear my plea. he thought, Give us a sign where to go to save our home, our very existence, from those that seek its destruction. he prayed with all his heart. This is our darkest hour; help us to spark and ignite the eternal fire of hope so we may bring about the dawn of peace and victory.
There was always a way, always a path to follow to stop the Heralds. There had to be…there has to be.
This was the looping train of thought in Seraphicon’s mind as he tried to keep hope alive in himself.
Liege Maximo, still in need of medical attention, falls into stasis lock.
The two halve’s of the Matrix’s shell rest close together, though its’ crystal core was scattered about the rooftop, in thousands of tiny, dark shards.
Ironclad loosely holds the damaged Rhisling. The many cracks along the blade were far from the extent of its’ poor condition.
Nothing. There was no beam of light cast down from the heavens, nor the voice of the Creator whispering in the air to guide our heroes.
Firestorm saw Liege enter stasis,
"MEDIC!!"
He yells.
Seraphicon tries to fix the Matrix and Rhisling using The Forge.
Bootleg was nearby, but he was on the streets below and could not fly up to him.
Arcs of the Forge’s energy trace across Rhisling. Ever so slowly, the Blade of Time begins to mend itself, though this would take some time.
The Matrix, however, was beyond even the Forge’s power.
OOC: Sorry for the inactivity. I was busy.
IC: As soon as the anomaly was repaired, the combiner fell apart and the other two Maximi faded away.
When Primal opened his optics, he found himself in a prison cell, within the fire depths of cybertronain hell.
“Wait a minute. Here again? SON OF A-”
Minumus awoke in his quarters on his ship. He walked out of his room with a hand to his head and a splitting headache.
The moment he stepped foot out of his room, he was tackled to the ground by a beautiful maximal girl with blazing red and orange feathers.
“Maximus! Where have you been! I’ve been worried sick,”
Two predacons walked up behind her and looked at Maximus. One was red, tall and muscular, with two halves of a dragon head placed as shoulder pads. The second was short, brown, and bulky. The lower jaw of his beast mode was on his chest, and the upper part of the beast head was on his back.
“Where have you been?”
Said the short and brown predacon, though not sounding quite as concerned.
“To hell and back Bluntforce. To hell… and back.”
Maximus replied.
“Isn’t that the name of those human songs you listen to?”
Asked the tall red predacon.
“Yes. Unrelated, but I’m glad you remembered.”
Maximus replied.
Meanwhile, back in our current dimension, Axis returned to her normal body, in just a painful process as before.
Maximus was on his back, barely able to move.
“I hate myself… so slaggin’ much…”
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Father Auros puts on the Tryptich Mask, “Primus, Creator of all Cybertronian life, we crave thy guidance.” He said.
Firestorm quickly tries to get Bootleg up to Liege.
Seraphicon looks at the Matrix’s remains, trying to hold out hope.
Maximus was still somewhat out of commission.
Axis however, was able to bare witness to all that had happened. She was on her knees, almost speechless.
“That’s it… we’re done… No victory, no new prime… Not even a ride home…”
The scene changes. Father Auros was now standing on a cliff on Primus’ birthworld, overlooking the luminous sea. Up in the black, starry sky was Cybertron, its’ two moons, and the sparkchamber of Unicron. Primus stands near the cliff’s edge, arms limp at his sides as he looks up at the planet.
“So…” he quietly says, his voice barely coming up to even a whisper, “it begins.”
“I-I can’t fix 'im 'ere!” Bootleg laments. “Don’ got the right stuff!”
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Axis slowly rose to her feet. Without saying a word she started walking forward. No destination in mind, and no idea where she’ll go. Just silently walking past the others as her mind struggled to rationalize the situation.
Auros asked how they can stop The Heralds.
OOC: GTG.
Axis continued moving forward with a blank and expressionless thousand yard stare.
Primus turns to look at Auros. Though the Creator was making a great effort to hide it, there was both sorrow and fear portrayed in his warm red-orange eyes.
“Only the power of the Matrix of Leadership, and its’ rightful bearer can defeat Nemesis Prime,” he says bleakly. “And with it now destroyed…”
Primus looks out to sea, then around at the landscape of his home.
“Perhaps, now, in the Darkest Hour…” he muses to himself, “…The secret that I, in all my eons, have entrusted to only one, living soul…”
She might pass Salvage as she walks.
“H-hey,” the red pickup hesitantly says. “Where’re you going?”
Axis stopped, and stood motionless for a few moments before speaking.
“Away…”
She quietly responded, vague as could be.