CHAPTER FOUR
This was not reality.
Or, at least, Misfire hoped it wasn't. Because otherwise that would mean Galvatron was somehow back from the dead and about to kill him.
The purple warlord sneered as he lifted a giant axe over his head. Before he could deliver the killing blow, a blaster bolt tore through his chest and brought the ancient warlord down.
"Be gone, evil doer!" a booming voice called out just as a tall orange bot came into view. He extended a hand to Misfire. "Are you all right, citizen?"
Before Misfire could answer, a voice called out, "Prime!"
Both bots turned around to see Galvatron back on his feet, no longer bearing a hole in his chest.
The orange mech assumed a defensive position. "Give up, Galvatron! The day is mine!"
"No, it shall be mine!" Galvatron roared as he lunged at Prime. A single gunshot was all it took to vaporize him.
"Perhaps now the Darklanders will understand that it is unwise to challenge Sentinel Prime," Misfire's savior boldly declared.
Oh, give me a break. Misfire got back to his feet and dusted himself off. "So," he said, looking up at the Prime. "You do this for a living or something?"
"It is my duty to defend Cybertron all those who dare do it ill."
Misfire slowly nodded. "Right... what did you say your name was again?"
"Sentinel Prime," the warrior proudly stated.
"Sentinel Prime?" Misfire cocked his head. "Aren't you... you know, dead?"
Sentinel laughed. "Of course not! How else would I be standing before you?"
"No, no, I mean... you really should be dead."
"He soon will be!" From behind Sentinel came a raging Galvatron, axe raised high. "He shall fall just like all the others!"
Sentinel laughed as he destroyed Galvatron just as easily as before. "Typical posturing from a Darklander. Where does Megatronus find these bots?"
Megatronus? Misfire knew a Megatron, but not a Megatronus. What kind of a name was that anyway? Besides, didn't Galvatron overthrow Megatron? Why would one be working for the other? He knew none of this was real... but all fantasies were built off of at least some truth.
"Who's Megatronus?" Misfire decided to ask, hoping to get at least some idea as to what was going on.
"Why, none other than the dreaded leader of the evil Darklanders," Sentinel Prime said. "He and his forces are spreading chaos all across Cybertron in the name of Unicron."
Okay, that definitely wasn't right. Either this guy was off his rocker or something else was going on here. Why was he even here to begin with?
"Enough about that though, "Sentinel said. "It is too dangerous for you to be out here, with the Darklanders invading. Let me get you to--"
He reached out to grab Misfire's arm, only for his hand to phase through. The Prime recoiled, staring at the Scavenger wide-eyed.
"You're... you're not real," he murmured.
"Yeah, none of this is," Misfire said. "You're in dreamland, pal."
"You mean this...." Sentinel looked all around him, gesturing to the many Galvatron corpses that now littered the ground. "None of this is real?"
"Nope." Misfire kicked at the ground. His foot phased right through. "Sorry to rain on your parade. Looked like you were having fun."
But Sentinel wasn't paying attention to him anymore. Instead, he was staring off into the distance, a forlorn look in his eyes. Misfire followed his gaze and saw yet another Galvatron standing there, holding something up in his hand. Adjusting his optic, Misfire deduced it to be a severed head.
"Charming," he muttered.
"Is this all Nexus Prime has to offer?" Galvatron bellowed. "These pathetic abominations? These Headmasters?"
Misfire looked to Sentinel, expecting him to shoot at Galvatron again. But the Prime simply stood there, silently staring as Galvatron's laughter rang in their ears.
* * *
"What did you say this was again?"
"The Requiem Blaster," Steel Jaw said, staring at the weapon in question on the table in front of him. "Supposedly."
Thunderhoof snorted as he shot a glance at Krok and Fulcrum, confined to the wall by a steel beam. "And just why would a pair o' Genericon mooks be carryin' somethin' like dat?"
"Who knows?" Steel Jaw said. "And honestly, who cares? Point is, we have it now, meaning no one will question or challenge our authority."
"We'll see 'bout dat," Thunderhoof said as he exited the room.
Left alone with the two Scavengers, Steel Jaw shifted his gaze to the pair. "You know, you don't have to stay there for the whole trip. I would be willing to accept you into the Pack."
"Not in a million years," Krok snapped. "A fancy little toy isn't going to get you anywhere. This endeavor of yours is going to fail like all the others."
"Uh-huh." Steel Jaw then looked to Fulcrum. "What say you, friend? Does Krok here speak for you as well?"
"Uh, well...." Fulcrum cleared his throat. "I mean, I have nothing to go on but his words. I've never even heard of you."
Steel Jaw flashed him a grin. "Is that right? Do you think it's fair to go on just that? Are his words enough?"
"Uh...."
"Don't listen to him, Fulcrum!" Krok said. "His tongue is as silver as a--"
"I think you should leave, Krok." Getting up, Steel Jaw removed the beam and grabbed Krok by the arm. "Let Fulcrum and I have a little chat, so we can get to know each other better."
As Krok struggled in his grip, Steel Jaw made a whistle and a crab-like Monstercon skittered in.
"Clampdown, please take Krok here and find a good place for him to rest," Steel Jaw said. "Maybe near the airlock, in case we need to lighten the load."
Clampdown's grille-like mouth curved into a grin and he moved to take Krok... only to cry out, pointing a pincer in alarm.
"Boss, behind you!"
Steel Jaw turned around in time to see Fulcrum hefting up the Requiem Blaster. Alarmed, the lupine Decepticon released Krok from his grip.
"What in the Pit are you doing?!"
"No one threatens my friend," Fulcrum said darkly, aiming the weapon at the Monstercon. "Especially if they want to gain my trust."
Steel Jaw raised his hands. "Okay. Okay. Let's all just settle down. Put down the weapon and maybe we can get back on the right foot."
Click click.
"First thing's first," Fulcrum said, not lowering the large gun. "Give us control of the ship."
Steel Jaw's expression darkened. "Do you really think you can wrestle control from us? We are more than half a dozen while you are only two."
"I have a weapon that can obliterate you all in one go. Your argument is invalid."
Click click click.
Steel Jaw snorted. "What, and kill yourselves in the process? What do you expect to gain from that?"
"You think I'm bluffing?"
"Of course I think you're bluffing! You wouldn't dare do something that suicidal!"
"You're talking to a K-Con, Steel Jaw. I'm all about suicide."
Click click click click click.
"What," Steel Jaw turned on his heel to face Krok, huddled in a corner, "is with all the clicking?"
"It's not clicking, it's beeping," Krok said. "There are Decepticons in the vicinity."
Steel Jaw let out a harsh laugh. "No, really? I wouldn't have guessed."
"Hundreds."
The Monstercon tilted his head. "Say that again?"
"Ey, Steel Jaw?" Thunderhoof emerged from the cockpit, seeming completely oblivious to what was going on in front of him. "You should come see dis. And let me just say, fer the record: I'm doublin' my price, 'cos I ain't gettin' paid 'nuff for dis scrap."
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