“No!” Sprocket steadfastly refuses.
“Sprocket,” ■■■■■■■■■■■■ calls to the scientist. “Head back upstairs and find out what had Gatecrasher in such a rush. The rest of us will continue on.”
Looking a little displeased at accepting orders from a Decepticon, Sprocket reverses course. The rest of the party continues downward, eventually reaching the central chamber.
Inside, the newcomers would see Facelift and Spectrum standing on a circular platform, around a half-finished cybertronian body. Around them were Lady Corona, Sidewinder, Epsilon-5, Laslow, Daria, Thrift, and Deus. It seemed an argument of some kind was taking place as Corona conversed with the hologram of a chaaran transformer nearby.
“How soon will the be here?” The prophet asks the hologram.
“I’m not sure, my lady,” the chaaran replies. “An hour, maybe- perhaps less.”
“Well, that settles that, now doesn’t it?” Facelift says. “I’d would love to revisit this discussion, but first we should tend to the more pressing matter at hand.”
On the other side of the chamber, a group of pilgrims were at work activating an ancient machine.
Below Gatecrasher, Sprocket exits the forge, assumes his helicopter mode, and takes flight.
“I don’t see the harm in it,” Forcep says. The doctor assumes vehicle mode and drives off.
A harsh buzzing sound rings from the console as the Omega Key resists Delta’s pull; she would be able to almost feel the artifact fighting her grasp.
The model of Salvation shudders as the holograms around it flash frantically.