CHAPTER THREE
Planet X
“Did you know about any of this?”
Convoy glanced at Rodimus Prime as he sat across from him in their shared holding cell, listening to the screams of those being tortured by the Quintessons. “Why do you ask?” he muttered.
“Was any of this part of what Liege Maximo told you?” Rodimus pressed him. “Like Primus being the Grand Architect or the Quintessons being involved.”
Convoy sighed, not meeting the younger Prime’s gaze. “Yes. Or at least, it was part of what he told me.”
“Listen,” Rodimus said carefully. “I know whatever it was he told you made you… lose it for a bit. But if what’s just happened has given credence to his story… then maybe now is a good time as any to let me in on it, if only so I can have a better understanding at what’s going on.”
Convoy looked up at him, his expression stoic. “You won’t like it. It will break you, as it did me.”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Rodimus said.
The older Prime stared at him, as if he couldn’t decide whether Rodimus’ courage was remarkable or foolish. In any case, after a few moments of silence, Convoy began to speak.
Convoy's Tale
You know the truth by now, I’m sure. Or, at least, the truth as you understand it. The thirteen who called themselves Primes were not demigods created by Primus to carry out his will; rather, they were simply the last thirteen left after so many others had fallen to their own hubris. The alliance they held was a fragile one at best and one that quickly fell apart thanks to the machinations of Liege Maximo and his accomplice Megatronus.
But little is spoken of the time that preceded the Thirteen; the era which people today remember as the Age of Wrath. After the departure of the Knights of Cybertron, the five-faced aliens who called themselves the Builders arrived, claiming to have been sent from the heavens to protect Cybertron in the absence of the Knights. This was a lie, of course, and they used this deception to bring our race to heel, turning us into slaves for labor.
What no one realized at the time… no one save for a select few… was that this was not the first time the “Builders” had been to Cybertron.
You know about the legend of the Guiding Hand, yes? A pantheon of five gods created from Primus himself? Well, as I’m sure you realize by now, there is truth in that legend. The Builders created Primus as a combiner made up of five components. Four of them were given the names Adaptus, Epistemus, Mortilus, and Solomus. The fifth component — who you know as Rung — was never named. His sole purpose was keep the other four connected and to eventually create the Matrix of Leadership.
Not long after, Cybertron’s twelve hot spots were ignited, bringing forth the first generation of Transformers. This generation — led by twelve who called themselves “the Covenant” — were what became known as the Knights of Cybertron. Under the guidance of the Guiding Hand, the Knights built the civilization that all Cybertronians live in today. The Builders had departed from Cybertron by this point, for reasons that I am not clear on.
Alas, like the legends that were based on them, the alliance between the Guiding Hand did not last. However, it was not Mortilus who turned against the others, but rather Adaptus. It was Adaptus’ belief that the Cybertronians needed to make their mark on the rest of the universe so as to be respected as the metal giants that they were. The others objected to this, advocating that they remain peaceful and isolated from the rest of the universe. Outvoted and outnumbered, Adaptus fled from Cybertron to one of its two moons. There, he fired a weapon on Cybertron that erased the memories of everyone dwelling on the planet, forcing them to forget about the Guiding Hand and for the remaining “gods” to forget their own identities.
Life went on as normal, with the Knights leading Cybertron in place of the now-amnesiac Guiding Hand, who ended up creating new identities for themselves. Mortilus took on the name Censere, who you may know as the Necrobot. Solomus named himself Tyrest after one of the first cities the Knights had constructed. Epistemus was christened Oculus, and Rung… well, you already know him well enough, I’m sure. Only Adaptus remembered who he was as he observed the rest of his race from afar, while he tasked the newborn natives of Luna 1 — Lunarians, as he dubbed them — with building a set of engines to make the moon mobile.
Realizing what had happened, the Builders returned to Cybertron and quickly subjugated the planet. It would be another five hundred years before we were finally able to overthrow them and drive them off of Cybertron. By that point, Adaptus’ minions had finished their work and Luna 1 disappeared from orbit. I know not to where he had departed, and Liege Maximo was not willing to divulge that knowledge to me.
Of course, the Builders’ hadn’t truly left. One of the Primes — Quintus Prime — was in fact another one of their creations and through her they continued to manipulate the Cybertronian race for their own schemes. Everything that happened from that point onward — from the War of the Primes to orchestrating the return of the Chaos Bringer — all leads back to the Builders and their attempts at bringing the Cybertronian race back under their control. They wanted to break us, to bring us to our lowest point as a society, to make us so vulnerable that we wouldn’t stand a fighting chance when they eventually returned.
What we’re dealing with now — Primus and this God Gun of his — is their last ditch effort. From what I have gathered from Liege Maximo, the Builders had for the most part ignored Adaptus and his work as the Grand Architect. They had no faith in him actually getting this far. But with Quintus Prime and Unicron gone, they pretty much have all their money on him. I’m not quite sure what Primus’ endgame entails… but I doubt it can be anything good.
Bottom line is… everything we’ve done… everything anyone has done… has all been part of the Quintessons’ game. Name one major event in the past ten, hundred, even thousand years and you can tie it all back to them. Never for a moment have we been truly freed from their rule.
The Age of Wrath never ended, Rodimus Prime. We are still living in it.
* * *
Convoy fell silent, his tale finished. Rodimus Prime sat in silence, still taking in what the older Prime had just told him. While it had answered his initial questions, it had also brought up a dozen others. Not wanting to press Convoy for information that he likely did not have, Rodimus instead decided to shift focus to more present matters at hand.
“We need to get out of here and rescue the others,” he said quietly.
“And how exactly do you propose we do that?” Convoy asked. “We can’t exactly pull off the trick we did last time.”
Before Rodimus could reply, he heard someone approach their cell. He looked through the bars to see a tentacled figure with an oblong head flanked by a pair of Allicon guards. The Quintesson Prosecutor had a sinister grin on his face as he regarded the two captive Primes with a mocking look.
“My apologies for keeping you waiting,” said the Prosecutor. “We have been preoccupied with our current series of trials. Two hundred prisoners is a lot to go through, you know.”
Rodimus Prime scowled as he got up to his feet, storming up until he was face-to-face with the Quintesson, with only the bars of the cell separating them. “As the current Matrix-bearer and leader of Cybertron, you Quintessons holding me captive isn’t exactly a good look for you.”
“Ah, but you do not currently carry the Matrix, do you?” the Prosecutor said snidely. “Therefore, you have no more authority than the average grunt. Not that you had much authority to begin with.”
Rodimus gripped the cell bars, glaring at the tentacled alien. “I demand to speak with whoever is in charge. I don’t care if it’s Primus, Liege Maximo, or one of your five-faced judges. I need to see someone.”
“And exactly what is it you hope to accomplish by speaking with them? Doing so will not change the outcome of your sentence.”
“So, what, I don’t even get a lawyer? Some justice system this is.”
“Seeing as how one-fifth of your beloved creator is a former Chief Justice, the odds were never in your favor to begin with.” The Prosecutor then made a gesture and one of the Allicons pulled the cell door open. Before either Rodimus or Convoy could make a move, the other guard pressed a switch on a remote control, causing energy rings to suddenly appear and wrap around the two Primes, binding them tightly.
“As it so happens, however, your presence is called for elsewhere,” the Prosecutor went on. “Who knows? You might just get your wish.”
As the two of them were dragged away by the Allicons, Rodimus glanced over at Convoy. “How worried do you think we should be about this?” he whispered.
“If you have to ask,” Convoy replied, “you already know.”
No comments:
Post a Comment