Victory

Hollow

The Dark Star Saber spun through the air, knocked from his grasp by a lucky blow. Instead of turning his back to retrieve it, Megatron caught Optimus’ right arm and turned to fling him away with considerable force. Their battle had been going on for more than a few minutes now, and both combatants had scored good hits, though not enough to fell either one. Many Autobots and Decepticons had all but ceased fighting to watch the two leaders locked in one of their legendary duels, but now Megatron had been disarmed, and the Prime stood between him and his sword. A soldier nearly tripped forward, in an attempt to go for the weapon from behind.

::NO!:: The warlord snarled through his command channel. ::The first one to interfere will be executed!:: He did not need assistance to dispatch an impostor. The Prime’s alternate pointed his ancient sword away. “I will ask you a final time to surren-” He was forced to block a barrage of cannon-fire as the roaring gladiator relentlessly advanced, and was thus unprepared for the kick that knocked his feet out from under him.

Optimus choked in pain as he fell onto Megatron’s waiting blade, severing fuel lines and hydraulics in his waist. The warlord twisted it under the Autobot’s weight and fired several shots directly into his midsection. Even with his opponent’s much thicker armor, the blasts melted into his internals before Prime managed to push him away. Megatron threw the slag that had melted into his servo on the ground as he stood.

The red titan backed off, bent with an arm covering his wound, sword half-raised in an attempt to guard. It would not take much now, he could barely stand. Balance was his undoing, after all. The fighting around them started up again as the Decepticon warlord yanked the Star Saber from his hands and threw it on the ground. The alternate Prime’s vents wheezed as he struggled to look him in the eye. “..M-egatron…”

Steel sliced through the cables and struts of his neck as the gladiator thrust his blade upward without ceremony. It was not enough to behead the larger mech, but the light faded from his optics before Megatron let the heavy frame hit the ground. Out of habit, the warrior raised his energon-stained arm over his helm and looked out at the crowd. If there were cheers, he didn’t hear them. There was no cry of triumph, no crazed grin on his face nor rush of victory coursing through his lines. Only the same cold glare. A silent ping was sent to Soundwave to record a message.

“Autobots!” The air went still as his voice rang through it. “The mech that lies before you is not your beloved Prime! It is an impostor! Sent here to die in your leader’s stead! Optimus Prime has abandoned you, to live in comfort on some other world!” He picked the holy sword up from the ground, affixing it to his back. The dark energon within him protested, but he ignored the sensation.

“I offer you a choice! Join me in rebuilding our planet and our race! Or meet the same fate as this pretender. Decepticons! Capture each Autobot alive!!” Megatron walked calmly in the ensuing chaos towards where the Dark Star Saber had been flung.

::Soundwave. Distribute that video across as many channels as you can. I want him to see it.::

The End…again

cold-eye-of-science:

vehicon-kenny:

The vehicon doesn’t have time at all to process the full horror of what happens next. One moment there’s an unwieldy vat resting on the edge of his usual work bench, and the next there’s vile-smelling, horrid yellow liquid covering everything--including him.

Kenny’s servo is already gone by the time the pain hits him. And then the metal of his peds is oozing away, sinking him towards the ground like a pile of ice that’s been doused in hot water. Or alternatively HORRIBLE BURNING, YELLOW ACID. Kenny gets one good scream out before the bit that splashed up against his chassis burns its way into his neck cables and silences the mech’s agony. The dissolving pile of metal that was once K3N-N13 gets a few last desperate flails in, trying to scrape the ravenous liquid off of himself as it sinks him to the floor. Wherever he touches it, his dermal metal sloughs off—then his internal cabling and endoskeletal structure. Anatomical components become thick, grey slime. Blue energon mixes with the yellow fluid, turning it bright green and then sickly brown. The mech’s helm is melted well melted through by the time the hull of his spark chamber is breached. Contact between the flammable sludge and the remainder of his life-force explode violently—splattering the burning muck across the room.

It takes less than a full klik from the time of the accident for the once-vehicon to be reduced to a flaming puddle. Kenny’s remains drip through a hole in the floor. The gaping maw where the acid ate its way through to lower levels. Cries of pain and alarm ring up from below where other mechs now find themselves experiencing milder, though nonetheless horrible, versions of the same plight.

A quiet “What the Hell?” echoes through the labs before Shockwave starts dumping neutralizing agent on the puddle, er, hole.

And then a ping to Megatron.

::There has been an accident in the lab.::

The warlord growls from his seat on the ground in the dark of his shared quarters. All of the recent goings on had his spark whirling in near-constant irritation that stung if it worked him up for long enough. The wound left by the Star Saber may never fully heal, but if it meant this level of pain from his daily routine, something had to be done about it. Sitting in darkness and focusing on the ventilation of his frame helped to keep him calmer.

Until of course, the next thing went wrong. Shockwave wouldn’t comm him if it wasn’t important. He stood and began down the hallway.

::I am on my way.::