BRAINWASHED || BATTLE CRY (Transformers Prime)

Chapter Twenty-Five | Victory to Me

VICTORY TO ME

"Brainwash, brainwash,
B-b-b-brainwash, brainwash."

⬵⤁

Optimus entered the Sea of Rust with Bumblebee remaining diligently at his side, his blue optics scanning for any signs of life. He half expected the Decepticon army to be waiting for them, but everything was far too quiet for his taste. The expansive sea was empty, save for its waves of rustic materials.

"Be prepared, there may be an ambush," he warned, Bumblebee whirring in confirmation before following his leader. The terrain was too rough for them to use their alternate forms safely, the pair instead opting to walk and look in every direction they possibly could for a sign of Decepticon activity.

That sign soon appeared in the form of a tremor, the ground shaking beneath them as a bright blue glow lit up the horizon. Optimus realized with horror that Megatron had already reached the location of the Omega Lock, and now was no doubt powering it up. It confirmed that the tyrant had also listened in on Alpha Trion's message as to the Omega Lock's location and abilities, giving him more of an advantage than Optimus had given him credit for.

"We must hurry!" He said, Bumblebee not needing any more motivation to follow his leader. The young scout feared for his team, and the young human boy he had left on Earth. They had not been able to tell one another goodbye before he had to leave for battle, and it was something he regretted dearly. He swore he would get back to his charge alive.

The trip to the Omega Lock took a long time, almost too long, but once they arrived only Megatron appeared to be standing at its center. His servos were folded behind his back, claws wrapped around black digits. The Star Saber was resting on its makeshift hilt across his shoulder, the powerful weapon glowing softly in the presence of what it believed to be a Prime. The perversion made Optimus sick, anger making his spark flutter.

Megatron stood at a console, one Optimus assumed controlled the entire Omega Lock, and it seemed as though he was alone.

"Optimus, so pleased you could join me," Megatron turned, his red optics starkly contrasting with the blue pool of energon and mystic power above him. Those same optics settled on Bumblebee briefly, though the warlord took little consideration of his presence. "And your scout. It appears as though you are the last two standing."

"You know what happened to Arcee," Bumblebee accused.

"Indeed," Optimus felt his spark sink as the tyrant flashed them a sharp-denta grin. "Let us say she . . . requested a deal. I opted to make one which was most beneficial to me: her life for that of the pathetic human's."

Bumblebee's large optics were the easiest watch shrink into shocked pinpoints, disgusting satisfaction spreading across Megatron's face as the pair of Autobots came to shaky terms with the fact that the femme was one with the Allspark.

"Megatron . . . why?" Optimus demanded, his remaining servo curling into a fist. "You already have us outnumbered, and outmatched. Why must you insist on slaughtering more lives?"

"Insurance," The response was cold, almost unlike the normally emotional dictator. "The more of you that are left alive, the more I must deal with in the future. And unlike your medic, I could not simply persuade her to join me."

"You manipulated Ratchet," Optimus snarled, deploying his sword. "I cannot allow your tyranny to reign any further."

Megatron laughed, the grating sound sending chills through Bumblebee's back struts. "You say that I insist on killing your kind, and yet you continue to provoke me, attack me. Surely, Optimus, you would rather surrender and live?"