"This is a one time offer, so speak now or forever hold you peace!" One of the Junkions hollered, many yelling and cheering similar things. Slowly, they urged Prism to step forward, and she did as such. She neared the center of the crater, where one slightly larger Junkion stood out among the others. She looked to him as he looked back, smiling as he stepped up and proudly offered his hand.
"Well well well Welcome to the show! please say your name for the audience at home!" He was rather eccentric, motioning towards the others in his group.
"I'm Prism." She answered rather dryly. It was rather awkward for her, having so many eyes on her at once. She crowd cheered, and the boy before her smiled.
"Well hello Prism, it's wonderful to have you here tonight, we're just about to get started! My name is Wreck-Gar, and I'll be your host for tonight." He sped around her and grabbed her shoulders, pushing her towards the pod in the center of the crash site. "one easy payment, just one easy payment, and then you'll have the time of your life! Party with your friends, party with your enemies, but just don't let mom and dad find out!"
She beleived that she understood what he was going on about. He wanted for her to open up the pod, but she wasn't quite sure that she could be able to. Some about it struck a familiar chord, but she could not remember where from.
She stepped right up to the pod, looking at it up and down. The group around her slowly began to quiet down, watching her with baited breath. The pod was much larger than she originally believed. It was well over her height, and wider than she was, but still not enough for any sort of transport.
Interestingly enough, there was a single button on the pod, which she pressed to activate a screen of hard light. The crowd 'ooh'd' and 'aah'd'.
The face on the screen was one that was all too familiar to her. He was the one that had trained her after all, and most likely one of the oldest autobots out there.
It was Kup.
"This is a message to any and all active Autobots still remaining on Cybertron." Kup spoke. It was only obvious now that he was rather damaged, and his voice was worried and rushed. "The mission has gone critical, I repeat, the mission has gone critical."
Prism's eyes widened as she watched his warning.
"We were able to launch another space bridge to the general location of Cybertron, so I have no idea when you will be getting this message, but please, for everyone's sake, report to your raking officer immediately. If your superior is here, please, enter in your security clearance code and move the cargo where it will not be found."
Gunfire and heavy clanking could be heard in the background, as well as some voices that she did not recognize at all. Kup looked behind him, a slate grey figure standing behind him. Whoever was behind him locked eyes with the old sargent, something happening that she could not see. Slowly, Kup turned his head to the camera.
"Primus help us."
She heard the unmistakable sound of a fired energy round, and the only things still in view were the grey figure and a large hole where Kups face once was. The video was cut off just as a red figure launched at the grey one, and a small yellow bot rushed to the video, his face seen only briefly before the video ended.
Had she been able to, she would have cried right there. Her mentor and almost fried was just killed on video. Though she was unsure how long ago the video was taken, she needed to know what was in that pod.
Her hands, shaking as if she were freezing, reached for the little number pad that displayed itself. After having lived in Iacon for so long, she knew many of the security codes and clearance codes to open whatever she wanted.
She spend a solid minute rapidly entering in codes before finding the right one.
Pressure released inside the pod, the heavily secured doors unlocking and pushing forward before sliding to the side. The large doors, pushing side the scrap that it was lodged in, opened fully, revealing a horrifying sight.
It was Optimus prime.
His body looked as if it had been to the pit and back, taken apart, put back together, and went through once more for good measure. His arms, legs, and even many spots of his chest were riddled with holes, burn marks, slashes, and anything else that could have possibly damaged him. The only way she recognized him was the faded red and blue paint scheme and the crest on his head.
She took in a sharp breath, looking up at his dead eyed before dropping to her knees.
Optimus Prime was dead.
Forsythe