Transformers Until one

Chapter Two - Part Twenty one

Even before the light of Cybertron's sun had fully spread across the horizon, the sound of grinding metal, rattling chains, and mournful cries echoed throughout the slave market at the heart of Micron—the old city of Micronus Prime. It was filled with towering buildings and narrow alleys that seemed abandoned and neglected ever since the Zeta Prime era had ended.

The smell of old oil mixed with rust and a faint burnt odor from the laborers struggling to resist their masters' orders still lingered, despite attempts to mask it with the aroma of iron flowers decorating the shops.

But everything was changing...

Since the day the new Prime took office, the one they called "Optimus Prime," the once foul wind of the decaying system gradually transformed into what slave traders called "the silent threat."

Because the very first decree from the new Prime was the permanent abolition of the slave class system.

The liberation started from the central control station... then slowly spread to the surrounding cities. Even Micron could not escape the gaze of that mercy.

Today, the stalls that once hung chains and price tags on the carapaces of the unfortunate had turned to display "legal" decorative parts—or attempted to disguise their laborers as "volunteer" personal assistants.

But every trader knew well this was not voluntary.

It was a desperate struggle to keep their business from being destroyed by the "Prime," along with the dark past.

"Just seeing his face on the news makes me want to spit oil on the screen..." muttered an old trader to his neighbor while arranging "goods" that had no origin certificates.

Hatred for the new Prime permeated every corner of these alleys, but no one dared speak aloud because rumors said the new Cybertronian police silently patrolled the slave trade areas that were not yet fully cleaned up.

In Micron's market today, silence was not a symbol of peace but a sound of fear — fear that the old world might never return.

Soft metallic clinks echoed in the narrow alley shadowed by darkness in the back market district of Micron.

At the corner of an old shop where iron cages had once confined over a dozen Cybertronian laborers daily, there was now only sighs and quiet conversations among veteran traders who could not yet accept the change.

"I truly hate that new Prime..."

The harsh voice of an old shield-armored trader sounded as he leaned against a battered energy barrel, eyes full of bitterness.

"I agree, friend..." another added, handing a power cup to his companion. "Ever since that Prime came, there's been nothing but chaos. Slavery abolished, many merchants shut down... the war with the Decepticons... and the last thirteen Primes who got assassinated... and so on, endlessly."

The third old man slowly shook his head, once holding controlling chains, now gripping a rusty cup tightly. "I don't want to complain like this... but it won't help... he is the Prime now, what can be done?"

Silence fell for a moment, followed by a collective sigh echoing through the alleys.

"Sigh..."

The atmosphere of the old slave trade district had become ruins of past glory. They sat amidst shadows of the past when they once held power in the filthy economic chain.

Now, everything had been taken away by the man whose name they cursed with hatred... Optimus Prime — a name that stabbed their pride every time they heard it.