Salvation: Part II

She sighed a sob, and smiled with her eyes closed.

OOC: Well, we finally have reached a new level.

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“Feeling better?”

She looked up at him smiling. “I always feel better around you Blight.” She said.

“Aw,” he purred. “That’s the first time anyone’s ever said something like that to me!”

OOC: that’s an odd word choice.

IC: “It can’t be. Your too nice.”

The guards shake their heads.

“I was going to ask the same to you,” one asks. "You seem to be in a hurry.


Driftburn!” Corona calls, trying to get the bot’s attention. “I haven’t ‘split you into two people’. Not necessarily; your mind and spark are still the same, singular being- your body is all that’s been changed, and that can be undone very simply.”


Deus shuffles around in a circle for a minute, before stopping and pointing down a darkened passage.


Nearby was the gigantic Autobot quartermaster, Salvo, retracting her exo-suits weaponry.

“Another time, then…” she sighs to herself, miffed at having missed the prison riot.


This building just so happened to be a turret jutting out from the cliff just above the control center in which the Omega Key currently worked its magic on Salvation. Wildsong was well within earshot of a commotion with in the room:

There is a sudden, echoing hum that resounds throughout the space between the cliffs, as a rippling wave of green energy washed over the skeleton of Salvation and the field of her parts that hovered around it.

Epsilon gives a quick summary of why he was sprinting for a Ground Bridge, not slowing down at all.


Zepar looks at the energy and thinks this may have something to do with the Omega Key (because precedence), he dismisses the Terrorcon of Thunderizer by having it find a place in the medbay before returning to being a dead corpse.

The dragon begins to walk in the direction of the control room.

Spectrum "oooooh"s in awe as she gazes upon the buildings.

The guard’s reaction to the news of Epsilon searching for a ground bridge was… curious. For a quick instant, he almost seems to do a double-take. He regains his composure almost instantly, however.

“The energies on this planet wreak havoc on equipment, you know,” he reminds Epsilon, following him urgently. “It’s possible your ship’s systems gave you incorrect readings…”

The other guard swiftly departs.


Forcep was busy readying the injured under his care for transport; he couldn’t properly tend to them with half his medical bay in pieces. Grumbling to himself about the inconvenient timing of this “repair protocol”, the chief medical officer at first doesn’t notice the hulking terrorcon that was once Thunderizer stomping into the room.

Forcep’s assistants, however, immediately react to the zombie’s presence. Unlike their boss, they were not averse to using weapons to defend themselves, and may of them immediately ■■■■■ their forearms into a variety of guns to aim at the terrorcon. Some of the conscious patients even join in, jumping up on their beds to raise their own armaments.

To everyone’s surprise and relief, the terrorcon’s violet lights extinguish, and the corpse falls to the ground with a crash!, now lifeless once more. As the medics stow their weapons, Forcep takes charge.

“Get that thing into a quarantine center!” he barks. “Now!”


Facelift transforms… once again forgetting that he had a passenger atop his tank mode.

“Eh,” Blight shrugs, pulling away a bit. “I’m usually quite awkward around people.”

Zepar continues to the control center.


“One way to find out.” Epsilon said as he tried to run faster.

“You wouldn’t know from looking at you.” She said.

“Too slow, eh?”
She teased jokingly.

She tried to get inside to see what happened.

Spectrum, once again, was thrown off.
This time, she rolled to a stop and stood up, dusting herself off.

“Um…” Blight stuttered. “R-really?”

“Yes!” She said. “You’re much more socially adept than I am.”

The guard follows along, quickening his pace.

“I certainly wouldn’t know of any bridges!” he says. “Not any that could be functional, at least! It’s possible your friend is still on the island…”


Wildsong (and Zepar, once he arrived on the scene), would see two Decepticon twins holding back another soldier with a blue visor and copper-colored armor. Their commander, a four-eyed bot with black armor accented by dark blue, watches on.


Salvo shrugs here large, weapon-laden shoulders.

“I’m a weapons platform; not a race car,” she says.


“Slag!” Facelift swears, clasping the sides of his head. “Sorry about that, little lady!”

Zepar growled, “What happened?”


“I doubt it.” Epsilon told the guards.

“1s f!ne.” Spectrum replied, skipping back to where the group stood.
@m ok4y.”

Breakout, the squad leader, shrugs apathetically.

“Pit if I know,” he says. “We were ‘avin’ ourselves a drink when Gearbox starts screaming about 'ow the Omega Key stole 'is bottle.”

“That thing’s d*mn lucky it’s the key to salvation or whatever!” Gearbox vows.


The guard was making a good effort of hiding it, but he was running out of ideas.

“Look, pal, we know how these kinda situations work,” Thrift says. “Facelift’s been kidnapped so the local cult of Unicron so they can sacrifice his soul to the Chaos Bringer, and you’re trying to get in our way, either out of ignorance…”

Thrift pauses for a dramatic beat, then swiftly transforms to robot mode, skidding to a stop on his feet as he points dramatically at the guard.

“…or you’re in league with those spawns of glitches!” the junkion accuses of him.


Facelift sighs, slouching down as he did so.

“Well, that’s a relief. Now’s not a very opportune time to harvest your organs, so it would have been very inconvenient of you to die right then.”

The three neutrals exchange disturbed glances amongst themselves.

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