[center][img]http://fontmeme.com/embed.php?text=PRISM&name=4114blasterc.ttf&size=100&style_color=00CCFF[/img][/center] Prism wasn't even sure what day it was anymore since she had activated and maintained the beacon. She had no idea why her memory banks were failing, but she knew that her self-tinkering wasn't going to be enough to keep it steady for long. The only thing that Prism did know was that she was one of the very last Autobots to stay in Iacon since Prime's departure. What was once the home of the elders, as well as the central base for the heroic faction, was now almost entirely abandoned. Anyone left was either a scavenger who had given up on the Autobots and Prime, or was Prism. In an instant,her eyes flickered to life. The colorless areas of her body began to glow a bright and powerful blue to match the colors of her eyes, two tails of hard light appeared on each side of the bright orange crest atop her head, flaring out at the end. Her body shot forward in a rush, her breathing quick and light. The dim, almost non-existent light in the hangar made it easy for the lights on her body to be seen from even the other side of the hanger that once housed the Ark. It took Prism a moment to collect herself. While the area around her was void and empty of life, her mind flashed images of the hangar back when it was operational. She saw Optimus' main team with him, all of them boarding the Ark, ready to leave. She had even seen herself running up to Optimus in an attempt to stop him. [i] [color=00aeef]"Optimus!"[/color][/i] She could hear the echoes of a time long gone. [i][color=00aeef]"I wasn't told that it'd be launching today, I'm sorry I was late for briefing!"[/color][/i] He was not there, but Prism still remembered her leader turning around to look at her. She was just under his own height then, her eyes on level with his nose, or the top of his face plate in some cases. [i][color=ed1c24]"Prism. Not everyone is boarding the Arc. We need Autobots protecting the planet from any remaining deceptions."[/color][/i] His voice was calm and powerful, fitting of a leader like himself. He could clearly see the sadness in her eyes, as well as the thought process she was going through. [i][color=ed1c24]"Just as I need great warriors with me to fight Megatron, I need great warriors to look after our home."[/color][/i] Prism believed she knew better. He was saying that because he didn't want to say that she wasn't good enough to travel with the others. She was second rate compared to Brawn, who was joining Prime to take the fight elsewhere. [i][color=ed1c24] "Look after Iacon. Make sure that those who remain here do not loose hope. We will return, and with us, victory over the deceptions."[/color][/i] The image faded away from her eyes. The picture of Autobots working on the last touches on the Ark was now gone, and replacing it was a hollow and unused shell of what once was great. Prism looked to the beacon in it's shoddy glory. The beacon wasn't anything special or magnificent, but it worked for what she needed it to do. It was small in size for a beacon, about the size of her forearm, and had a similar orange and sky blue color scheme to that of Prism herself. A small red light blinked off and on at the top of the beacon, causing Prism to groan. She leaned forward in her sitting position against one of the hangar walls, her hand reaching for and grabbing the beacon to inspect it. Her ears tuned to listen to the frequency that the beacon was on to make sure it was working correctly. Her silver fingers opened a small panel, a soft groan escaping her lips. As she expected, it wasn't holding up well. She signal with her location and request for help was fuzzy and distorted. She tried to play with some of the wires on the inside, but nothing seemed to improve the signal. Maybe it was the fact that she was operating from within a hangar instead of using the telecom station, but she would have an even more difficult time using that instead of her little beacon. She had given up, and hit it lightly with her free hand. She had no idea why or how, but hitting it seemed to work a little, the repeated message seemed to play a little better now. [color=00aeef]"This is Demolitions expert Prism broadcasting from Iacon. If there is anyone out there who want's to rebuild Cybertron with the scraps out leaders left us, the doors are open, and report in the Ark hangar as soon as possible."[/color]