Salvation: Part II

Facelift transforms, with little regard for the fact that Spectrum may still have been on his person.

“What in the holy flying frak was that?!” he shrieks. “Am I seeing things, or did I really just shoot at the ghost of Nemesis Prime?!”

Thrift transforms into a muscle car.

“Right behind ya!” he says.

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If Magenta happened to be on the planet, she might see Laslow, trying to talk to people in the crowd, but being ignored.

“Excuse me! have you–” HE’s buffeted by someone walking past. “OW! hey!” he says. He sighs, “Excuse me! has anyone seen a cybertronian, her alt-mode is a Terran car?”

If she was on the Salvation she might see Gatecrasher walking trough the hallways, avoiding the wreckage from the battle, or cleaning up where the hall was impassible.

Spectrum squeals as she is thrown off of Facelift. She hits the ground and bounces several times, before finally skidding to a stop.

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The kidnappers assume robot mode.

“That was only a phantom,” the female guard assures Facelift and Spectrum. “They’re very common on this continent.”

Back at the ancient spaceport, Requiem-IX lounges about in the control room that Actaeon, Zepar, Daria, and Wildsong had found. Gearbox, the youngest of the squad, takes a sip from a bottle of engex, before setting it down upon the flat table extending from the center console the Omega Key was plugged into.

“How much longer are we gonna sit here?” he impatiently asks his comrades. “I wanna get back to the action! Back to the questing! All this standing and admiring the scenery is getting boring!”

While Gearbox was talking, thin rays of blue light scan his bottle for a moment, before turning green. There is a flash as the engex suddenly disappears.

“Whoa!” Gearbox exclaims in surprise jumping away from the console. The other three Decepticons start as well, as Gearbox deploys his gun an aims it at the Omega Key.

NO!” the twins Tossup and Shakedown exclaim as one, immediately seizing their comrade and directing the barrel of the rifle away from the important artifact.

“It stole my booze!” Gearbox protests.

Spectrum slowly unfolds, still quivering.

“…And what’s that supposed to mean?” Facelift asks his kidnappers.

“That wasn’t Nemesis Prime,” the guard continues. “Not in any way, shape, or form. It was only an… well, I’m not sure ‘illusion’ is the proper term, but…”

Spectrum walked up behind Facelift and peered out from behind his leg.

Facelift looks down at Spectrum. Then, he kneels down and pats her on the head, for seemingly no reason.

The guard shakes her head.

“Maybe… apparition,” she decides. “This place was exposed to more of the Omega Lock’s energies than the rest of the planet, which had left it with some unique characteristics.”

“Wai-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa- hold up,” Facelift reacts, holding up his hands. “I think I’m missing some vital context. When was the Omega Lock here?”

Spectrum blinked.
She began bouncing up and down excitedly.
“Th1s is 1t!” She squeaked.
“w3 f0und 1t?”

The guard chuckles at the display.

“In a sense, you’ve had it all along. Well, part of it, anyway,” she says to Spectrum.

“For the love of Primus and his kids!” Facelift exclaims, grabbing at his head. “Are you incapable of answering a question in a definitive and clear manner?!”

Spectrum frowns.
“Th3 Omeg@ key?”

The guard nods.

“Yes,” she affirms. “It’s a piece of the Lock- from what I understand, at least.”

“Perhaps we could catch them up later? On the way, maybe?” the four-armed neutral suggests. “The phantoms might be harmless, but the wildlife most certainly is not.”

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Spectrum bounced excitedly.

Epsilon runs as fast as he could to the Ground Bridge.

The group transforms and continues driving. As they went on, the white fissures increased in prevalence, size, and brightness. Small pieces of rock and dirt floated above the ravines, and more phantoms of figures familiar and not drift about the landscape.

Thrift follows, eventually overtaking Epsilon. They would arrive at an entrance into the underground portion of the spaceport, flanked by two pilgrim guards.

Spectrum hops back onto Facelift.

The group travels a ways further, until the reach a clearing in the jungle. The land sloped downward, forming a deep, rocky bowl many miles in diameter. The bottom of the bowl was concealed beneath a dazzling white aura- the same mysterious energy present in the fissures seen throughout the continent- with jagged crystal formations rising from the pit’s depths.

In the center of the bowl, suspended by wide, sturdy bridges of ornate construction, were the ruins of an ancient cybertronian facility:

Ragged holes had been blasted into the walls of the building- as if a tremendous explosion had once occurred inside. Some of the bridges leading to it had been destroyed, but Facelift, Spectrum and company were close to one that was largely intact.

The sun shines through a cloudy sky overhead, though it was nearly drowned out by the shafts of white light being cast upward by the pit and the fissures that spread out from it. The primordial energies in the air felt much more potent here.

Gronius was flying above the city, exploring it and looking for something to do.

She’s on the planet

She looks at Laslow. "What’s her name? The bot you’re looking for?

“Her name is Juliana, she about as tall as me, extremely beautiful, and had a car alt-mode. She’s my… cousin for lack of a better term.” He explains.