Redemption

Prologue

"In order to both protect the Allspark and secure Unicron's defeat, it was necessary for me to empty the vessel's contents."

"Into where?" The once scout asked.

"The Matrix of Leadership." The Prime answered simply, anchoring Knockout back to the situation. It's not like he was actively ignoring the words of his former enemies, but he found it hard to focus on anything other than the whole 'Megatron changed his mind about everything, go home' thing Optimus had informed them of. It was almost funny, and coming from any other bot he would have laughed. Actually, he had laughed. And Bulkhead had too. It's over? Just like that? "As such, my own spark can no longer be separated from the multitude of others within me," Optimus Prime continued.

"Are you telling us," Ratchet's shoulders slumped in what could have been defeat, "...that you are now..." Knockout watched carefully as the senior medic actually lost his words, something he hadn't believed to be possible for one as well spoken as himself. "...one with the Allspark?"

The blue racer to Knockouts left, Smokescreen, they called him, let out an empty chuckle. "That's what you say when someone kicks the..."

'Bucket' Knockout said to himself.

Hey wait a minute, what? The Prime is actually going to offline? If someone told him that this morning, well, lets just say it would take a lot of high-grade to convince him. Primes don't die, not nowadays. They're too good for that. Foot soldiers die, foot soldiers break down. Primes don't do that, they just don't.

'Do they?'

"To not return the Allspark to the Well, would be to prevent future generations of new life from existing on Cybertron." Knockout craned his neck up to where Optimus stood over the others, like a poppy before a great statue or a withered tree. For a brief moment, they caught each other's eyes. Like a flower startled by the wind, Knockout swayed in unease. "My quest must be completed."

"Optimus!" Ratchet attempted to reason, "I didn't return to save a life, only to lose the one I care most about."

'Now is my cue to leave' Knockout thought, but found he was boxed in by the enemy. The friendly? Bulkhead put a hand on Ratchet's shoulder in comfort. 'Friendly to each other, I am not one of them.'

The Autobots are arguing with him now, looking for a way, an excuse, to save their leader. And he is telling them no.

"While this may very well mark the end of the age of the primes, leadership can be earned with or without the matrix. And in my view, you have each acted as a prime." The Prime's eyes fell on Knockout once again.

The cherry medic, who begged to differ, swayed in discomfort, "Well I never really had the best role models." Knockout attempted to deflect the eyes which burned holes in his spark, and the subtle guilt that bled from them.

"Every sentient being possesses the capacity to change." Was Optimus Prime's only reply. And it was enough.

Optimus turned to the small group before him, smiled, and then turned away. His gentle expression eclipsed the rising sun behind him as the dust of battle swirled and settled by his feet. His silhouette stood striking as a statue of the Primes of before, something to be admired. But this statue didn't stand to be gawked at, but to rise. Wings activated from his back, and with that, he lifted off.

Optimus Prime didn't simply fall away, but soared up into the sky. The peds that had once only knew the stomp of battle now high in the sky where the full picture became clear. At least, that's how Knockout imagined it was. He dived down into the Well where a lonesome archivist once journeyed years and years ago.

And in the same place where he had indirectly started the war that extinguished countless sparks, Optimus Prime came full circle.

Orion Pax won.

An explosion unlike any other erupted from the Well of Allsparks. New life cascading from a geyser of fire and soul. With each spark that flew by his faceplates, Knockout found himself mesmerized. Cybertron was a jar, and around him swarmed thousands upon thousands of fireflies.

Briefly, he allowed himself to hope. Perhaps a navy blue and orange spark in the swarm of energy would return to him. Only for a moment.

Briefly, he put away that hope. A navy blue and red spark in the swarm of energy returned to them. Because Primes don't die. Foot soldiers die. Foot soldiers break down.