Date: The End of the War
Summary: There are three legendary sets of nemesies in the Great Cybertronian War. Megatron and Optimus Prime. Elita One and Shockwave. And then there is the third war. The war for information, for tactical superiority. The war of Blaster and Soundwave.
In the final days of Cybertron, Blaster learns of a most precious, most surprising fact. Something that may yet save the Cybertronian Race. And yet he is not alone in this information. And the two will butt heads for the final time. Soundwave vs Blaster - Their Last Encounter
As logged by AU-Blaster - Monday, April 10, 2017, 7:01 PM
Uraya - Eastern Equatorial Cybertron
- Uraya was once one of Cybertron's city-states. It was the largest of the Tri-Peninsular Torus States, and bordered Tarn, the Sea of Rust, and the Neutral Territories. Now it lies in ruin, nearly swallowed by rust and silicon sand.
Cybertron is silent.
Well that wasn't entirely true. There was a broadcast playing.
Footsteps in the rust. The light wind ripples against metal scrap. The day is a dusky hue. They're all dusky hues now. And there was a mech standing alone.
Broken, beaten, in another life he was someone of renown. The red sun glinted off of his optical visor. He raises a thick blue finger to wipe the rust off.
He walks. The camera shows a vacant world. There's a massive warship, crashed partially into the planet. Buried partially into the planet's surface, its seen the rust of years.
It wasn't the only thing.
Soundwave is the mech. His silhouette is distinctive, even without his pepperbox missile launcher.
He crouches at the small peak overlooking a city's remnants.
And there are graves there, upon the hill.
The sun reflects off of his visor. His expression changes. If the unchrasimatic one could ever display sorrow, it would be now.
He stands, his joints creaking as he struggles to rise to his feet. It was going to be dark soon.
Footsteps in the rust.
He approaches a high ridge, where an old base still stands, the faint outline of the Autobot factional symbol on the wall.
It's small, and without much to work with, but he didn't need his rudimentary home to be that large. On the counter was a group of small objects he'd been trying to fix.
Not that he really had a reason to do so, anymore.....
Blaster sits alone in his studio in the remains of Triax. He prefers to spend his time alone whenever possible -- it's hard enough to do the Voice over the radio, much less in person. The cables of his ruined left arm are plugged into the mixing console in front of him. For a moment, he simply stares in front of him with his one good optic. The Voice. He has the messaging from Elita One loaded up -- all he needs to do now is what he's supposed to be best at.
Blaster stares for another long moment. Every cycle it gets harder. Get out the message. Speak the word of Prime. Lift the spirits of what few Autobots remain. As things get worse, it get harder and harder for Blaster to pretend. There is no future. No matter what Elita One says, there's nothing to look forward to. Blaster is a fake. The Voice of Cybertron is a lie. And Blaster's not sure just how much longer he can keep up the illusion.
In the middle of the wastes, beneath debris from the crashed starship, dwells a truly wretched creature. Sickeningly yellow optics flicker to life in the darkness beneath an engine cowling. There's a crackle of static as his vocalizer tries to boot up. Dreadwind emerges from his gloomy cavern as he hears a distant shuffling across the landscape. His cockpit his shattered, a portion of his right wing has rusted away, and his faceplate has been missing for millenia, exposing a rat's net of mangled wiring wrapped around facial framework. He peers into the distance, coughing as his vocalizer comes online, "Still not dead yet... how awful..."
Blaster sighs, an affectation he picked up while on Earth. Earth -- can't think about that now. Need to focus. He has a job to do. Mentally donning his mask as the Voice of Cybertron, Blaster begins to inhabit the persona. "Fake it 'til you make it," he says aloud to the empty studio. He pulls up the outline Elita gave him. One groon -- that's all the time he has to fill. Frowning in semi-darkness, Blaster begins to write.
Soundwave sits in at his workshop table. There was one broadcast that still played, but he didn't listen. The graves on that hill were enough to ensure that. He set down his small case, fashioned together from flexible materials to resemble something of a knapsack. Subspace storage was too costly. He produces a rudimentary tool, that he uses to fiddle and adjust with what appears to be an optic. Not a sound is heard, except for his quiet fiddling with the item. After a few minutes, it lights up, signifying that it was working finally. He disconnected the power source from it and set it aside, in a pan that held several other body parts. A few fingers, an optic, and a vocalizer.
Still, there was something else to do, and despite it all, despite being a hermit. Soundwave had someone he occasionally looked in on. Despite his better judgment.
He murmurs just a bit, his vocoder sounding like a low rumble. A light flickered on in his home, something to help wayward travellers in the lost.
He returns to his knapsack and reveals what he had scrounged from the ship. A small block of energon.
Part of it is dumped into a vent, after which the station's light grows brighter. The rest....
He wordlessly closes the knapsack and returns to the waste as darkness approaches.
He approaches Dreadwind's shelter. He's made this trip before. And while nobody would ever call Soundwave generous, his life has had a remarkable shift from eons ago. Perhaps he'd never be valiant, never be compassionate....but there were occasionally those that needed his aid.
Even if they were Dreadwind.
He approaches Dreadwind, the small light shining off of his ruined cassette loader as he does. He produces the small cube, a faint trace of energon left in it. << I.... >> His voice is a rougher rumble than the smooth autotune of ages before. << I found a new optic. >>
He could still repair people. He was still good at that.
After a groon of work, Blaster leans back, unplugging from the mixer. He stretches his tired endoskeleton. This is good -- this will work. At this point, Blaster's not even sure who's still listening out there. How many Autobots are even left? A hundred? A dozen? He hasn't seen or heard from a neutral in several stellar cycles -- without the Autobots to protect them, the last could have been picked apart by scavengers by now. Can't focus on that, however. Have to be positive. Produce The Voice.
Dreadwind reaches forward hesitantly. It's not Soundwave he doesn't trust, but more the fact that Energon sustains life and life might get worse. However, he accepts it after a moment, tilting his head back and placing the corner of the cube into his intake and greedily drinking what little remains. He looks back to Soundwave, "A new optic... Can it see the silver lining?"
Soundwave regards Dreadwind for a moment. He was at least accepting the fuel. It was something of their trade, Soundwave'd siphon from the crashed cruiser, and donate some for the cause. He looked back towards his home. 'the Lighthouse' he called it. Not that he got many visitors other than that Junkion raider that kept stealing from the ship.
A broadcast signal boots up, an old and antique tone, letting out a forgotten tone, much akin to what the Earthlings'd call a 'weather alert'.
<<NO...>> He says distractedly, his head raising to the sky. It was the first thing he had listened to in quite a while.
A knapsack hit the rust, spilling a few spare parts from it as it falls.
Soundwave stands there, frozen.
A new protoform? There was a production factory still working?...There was....a new life?
The planet whistles softly as wind picks up.
"DID...DID YOU HEAR THAT?" Chances were good that Dreadwind didn't. It didn't matter. He didn't wait. The potential of this was astounding. A new life. Here, on the dead planet.
Soundwave starts to trudge off into the waste, with darkness approaching. This was something that could not wait.
A call is sent out. A signal, weak, but steady. It's on a frequency that Blaster hasn't intercepted in a long, long time. At first the Voice of Cybertron tries to ignore it. 'Protoform,' huh? It's probably nothing, and Blaster has gotten his hopes up too many times just to have them crushed once again. But the signal continues, transmitting, nagging at him at the back of his receptors. The source even seems relatively close.
"Fuck it," Blaster mutters, and stands. He looks around his empty studio in Triax. Blaster reaches across his cramped broadcast space and snags his blue and yellow Flight Pack. He brushes the rust off of it and studies it closely -- will it still fly, or is it likely to blow up half way there and kill him? Does it even matter? Blaster stares at it a moment, expression blank. At last he shrugs his one good shoulder. He'll risk it. At worst case he'll die and this'll all be over at last.
After one last check to make sure it's not leaking fuel, Blaster dons his backpack and spins the handle to open the airlock leading out of his studio to the outside. He stumbles out into the dusk, glancing upward, trying to spot Citctus Minor through the haze. He shakes his head and reaches up with his one good hand to taps his radio receiver, zeroing in on the weak broadcast. Following the signal, he starts walking through the haunted ruins that were once the bustling city of Triax.
When he reaches the former city's limits, Blaster stops at the edge of the silicon sands. He reaches back with the tentacular remains of his ruined left arm. Snakelike wires socket into backpack control ports, activating his jetpack. Its small rocket engine coughs a few times, and then slowly lifts him in the air. Staying close to the rusty, broken ground, Blaster traverses the derelict landscape. "It's nothing," he tells himself aloud. "Don't get your hopes up." Nonetheless, he spurs he jetpack a little faster.
Dreadwind looks up at the noise echoing across the wastes. "A new protoform?" He looks around at the rustscape, "Do we really want to activate it? Into all... this?" He doesn't expect an answer to his question. After all, his questions have largely gone unanswered for millenia, even before Cybertron fell to ruins. He watches Soundwave walk off and stands there, considering skulking back into his Cavernous Hovel of Gloom and Despair. (Trademarks and Copyrighting are too energon-consuming.) Eventually, though, he opts to trudge off after Soundwave.
The Cybex Forge hadn't been operational in...Primus, twelve eons now. It was a minor manufacturing assembly, nothing like the great Assemblae Cybertronae, that great Golden Era manufactorum that was considered its own citystate. Still, how long had it been since ANY reports like that came to bear?
Much like his nemesis, there was the irksome idea that it was a malfunction, a misidentified report...a glitch. And yet Soundwave soldiered on.
It may've been that it just didn't matter anymore. If it was true or not.
"Its....probably nothing." He rumbled, "Some raider probably was tampering with something he shouldn't have. But...."
Soundwave paused at the top of a hill. His hand squeaked as he fidgeted. "A new protoform....the matrice of construction within it."
He turned to face Dreadwind, "It could be a template, Dreadwind." Again the wind picks up, and Soundwave shields his eyes. "And perhaps you may have given up...."
He shows his back to the ruined one, "but I haven't."
It was kismet perhaps that the three arrived to the signal's location at about the same time. Dusk falls upon Cybertron, and the sounds of feet crunched against the ground.
Soundwave crouched behind a piece of hull for several moments, the mech already closer to the base's entrance than he and Dreadwind. His fist creaked as it clenched...and then Soundwave did something different.
He stood, and approached. Soundwave comes out into the open, a sense of determination in his stance, something that he had not felt in a long time.
There was no way in hell he was going to let this monster take anything from this facility. And he damned sure was going to kill him today.
His voice echoed across the dunes. It pierced the silence. It was eons of frustration and rage. Of personal issues.
And he waited...
Blaster slows as he approaches the source of the signal. He lands on a low ridge overlooking the Cybex Forge, scanning around the rusty dunes. If Blaster heard the broadcast, others might have to. Even... no, don't even think about him.
Instead, Blaster sends out a narrowcast to Elita One and what remains of Autobot Command. "Elita -- I've picked up an old signal. It's probably nothing, but I'm checking it out just in case. Sending you my coordinates in case something goes wrong."
Blaster now steps off the crest of the ridge, sliding slowly down the slope, keeping his optic peeled for any hostile activity. Powering down his jetpack, he uncouples his wirearm and uses it to help draw his massive Electro-Scrambler Gun.
Although difficult to fire one-handed, Blaster has learned to brace it on the stump of his ruined forearm and make due. Making a small adjustment to his radio receiver, Blaster slows as he reaches the bottom of the elevation and begins to move more cautiously.
The large red and yellow Blaster was never built for stealth, even back when he blasted Earth music almost night and day. So, being spotted by Soundwave isn't a surprise. The fact that is Soundwave, however, almost is. "You!" Blaster says, wheeling around towards the nearly-familiar voice. "I thought you were dead," Blaster exclaims, bringing up his rifle. "I'm glad you're not, you bastard, because I'm going to kill you myself!" Navigating the uneven ground, Blaster races towards his old and hated rival.
Soundwave grips his hands, tensed. Blaster was charging him, a scream on the Autobot's mouthplate. He didn't want this anymore. But he couldn't forgive, nor forget.
- Soundwave looms over Mute and Freestyle's bodies. Nonchalant, he looks towards Blaster's strike team. "I DON'T NEED THEM ANYMORE. TAKE THEM THEN." Silently, Blaster screamed and raised his weapon.
- It was the midst of the great Ionic Storm, Soundwave was laying on his side, a smoking hole in his loader. He huddled with his tapes. A look of concern on his faceplate. Laserbeak lay on the ridge, unmoving. Ravage had curled up next to him.
- He could suffer the ill effects of the storm. He was built for it. Rumble finally stopped talking, energy crackling over the few.
- A cannon was raised on Magma-Ventu, Soundwave took deliberate aim, launching plasma at Blaster's tapes, even as the Commander tried to shield them at the last moment.
He wouldn't take this one. He wouldn't take anything anymore.
Soundwave shifts to move forward, to get in close. All he had were his fists, such as they were. He dove forward into a tackle onto Blaster, his hands reaching straight for the mech's throat.
He wasn't going to take this one....
Not this one.
Not ever again.
>> Soundwave strikes AU-Blaster with Roundhouse. <<
Dreadwind was never particularly light on his feet even when he was at his 'best' and transforming is just far more energy-consuming than he can afford to be right now. He can't keep up with Soundwave, since the mech is fueled by rage and determination. Dreadwind, on the other hand, is fueled by misery and depression, which actually amounts to a negative sum. He hangs back, limping along the perimeter of the imminent battle.
<< Blaster...Is this...I....I'm on my way. >>
Miles away, the shadowed figure of Elita One pulls herself onto a small one-mech transport, and drives off into the night sky...
Blaster rushes towards Soundwave. He doesn't hesitate -- he opens fire. "You're gonna die!" he yells. His optic narrows. "This is for what you did to Docket, you motherless son of a glitch!" He tucks his rifle into the crook of his good shoulder and shoots. In his haste and rage he misses and Soundwave is on him.
Blaster is driven to the ground. He whips his rifle at Soundwave's head, aiming for his delicate audio sensors. "I'm going to rip out your speakers!"
>> AU-Blaster misses Soundwave with Roundhouse. <<
The two struggled upon the ground, Blaster, as always, all noise and bluster. Soundwave raised his arm, blocking most of the rifle's shot, the discharge rippling past his head, sending static across his head.
- There were small graves upon the hill.
"HE DESERVED IT, BLASTER!" It was an outburst that caught even Soundwave off guard. It felt...good. Even as he drives his fist down towards Blaster's head, he explodes. "HE KILLED SEVEN THOUSAND MECHS WITH THAT INTEL." Soundwave throws another punch down at Blaster's faceplate. "MY ONLY REGRET IS THAT I COULD ONLY DO IT ONCE!"
>> Soundwave strikes AU-Blaster with Kick. <<
Dreadwind's left hip actuator sparks and makes a rude grinding noise and his limp worsens. With a groan, he shakes his head, "Of course..." He moves back away from the fight, though still well within view, and finds a rusted piece of scrap to sit on. "This just gets worse and worse..."
Soundwave's fist crashes into Blaster's face. His creek cracks with an audible snap. Energon splatters. The smell of it lingers in the close quarters. Blaster howls in frustration and pain. Rage boils within him. His one optic fixes on Soundwave. "And what you did to Steeljaw... Raindance? Did they deserve that? You have this comin', sucker."
Blaster reaches up with his ruined left arm. Exposed cables flail and snake. They reach for Soundwave's face. Each probes for an opening -- any crack or orifice. A smile splinters Blaster's broken appearance. "I'm gonna fry your brain. Your burned-out core will be my new paperweight."
>> AU-Blaster strikes Soundwave with Electromagnetic Energy <Medium>. <<
>> Soundwave temporarily loses motor functions from the attack! <<
A lone hovertractor kicks up a trail of rust and dust as it zips along towards the battle.
Electricity crackles, and instinctively, Soundwave raises up his hands as a synthesized scream is triggered. He sizzles momentarily, before being tossed onto his back. With a mighty echoing noise, he lands shoulders first, splayed and stunned on the ground. His hand twitches instinctively, as he tried to clear his processor, tried to focus.
Blaster was coming, and he was going to die.
He turns over, getting his arms beneath him, and slowly, he starts to pull himself up. He had to get vertical, to continue this fight. His leg gives out again, sending him slumped back down onto the ground, as he groaned in agony.
Blaster takes the advantage. He climbs shakily to his feet and then launches himself onto Soundwave. He pins Soundwave to the ground, wires snaking around his throat. "You like your hearing, don't you Soundwave?" Blaster yells. "So proud of it. 'Can hear a fly sneeze,' right?" Blaster reaches down and comes up with fist-sized speaker. He jams it against Soundwave's audial sensors. "Well, hear this!"
>> AU-Blaster strikes Soundwave with Sonic Blast <High>. <<
Sonic waves washed over him, his optical visor cracks under the pressure. The mech wheezes. Dizzy and disoriented, Soundwave wasn't deafened by the attack, but it rattled his processor regardless. He fumbles against Blaster's one-handed choke, his hands moving to it, trying to break the grip.
It wasn't working. He reaches away from the mech, and grasps a shard of hull.
With a grunt of absolute effort, he shoves it as deep as he can into Blaster's remnant of an arm!
>> Soundwave strikes AU-Blaster with Stomp. <<
Dreadwind shifts and starts to get up as Blaster gets Soundwave on the ground. He isn't even aware that he's doing it until he's halfway up and his hip actuators locks up. What was he planning to do, anyway? Rush in to Soundwave's aid? Play the hero? He sits back own, "I'd probably just break down and be immobilized here until I waste away..."
Blaster blasted Soundwave with pure white sound. Blaster doesn't play or listen to Earth music anymore -- it's just too painful. A vengeful smile touches Blaster broken face.
Then Soundwave strikes. A horrible wrenching noise and Blaster is forced to let go. The wires from his ruined arm hang lifelessly as he stumbles back. He falls. But his gun is there - he snaps it up. "Game over, sucker!" His optic narrow and at near pointblank range he fires.
>> AU-Blaster strikes Soundwave with Electro-Scrambler <High>. <<
>> Soundwave temporarily loses motor functions from the attack! <<
He falls back to the ground as that electro scrambler hits him again. Part of his mouthplate is blown off as he staggers back to the ground, a note of finality as he hits the dirt. His little-seen mouthplate is visible now, as he lays there, electricity washing over him again. His elbow tucks beneath him as he tries to prop himself up. "YOU....ARE NO PRIMUSSPAWN."
Weakly, Soundwave reaches up, as if he could just grab the gun before him. "I WATCHED THEM DIE...AND..." He straightens out his arm, trying to get his feet beneath him now, "AND YOU...WONDER WHY I'D DO IT AGAIN?"
Dreadwind watches the two fighting, mindlessly slamming a fist into his hip to knock the actuator gears back into place. "Knocking each other senseless over a wasted scrap of a planet..." He pauses thoughtfully, and his head pivots toward the Cybex Forge...
Blaster laughs as Soundwave falls again. He stands over his longtime nemesis. "It's over, you bastard!" He lifts his foot, and kicks out Soundwave's support arm. "Remember Grand Slam?" he asks. "Rewind? Nightstalker?" The smile leaves his broken face. "You deserved to watch them die. You should watch it a thousand times." He brings up one black boot. "But you'll never touch anyone I love ever again." He brings his boot down on Soundwave's right arm. There's a sickening crunch. Blaster does it again.
>> AU-Blaster critically strikes Soundwave with Stomp! <<
Soundwave grimaces, groaning loudly, as his arm snaps with a sickening crunch. Wires and sparks fly as it goes bouncing off and away. In panic, he raises his remaining arm, and pushes Blaster away. He stands sluggishly.
The two stand there against each other, silhouetted by the darkness. Soundwave's hand flickers, as he taxes his meager energon reserve, his concussion cannon. Slowly he raises it, obviously straining to get his signature weapon up, and his nemesis in his sights. "I REMEMBER THEM. THAT WAS ALWAYS THE WORST THING ABOUT YOU DURING THE WAR. PRETENDING YOU WERE SO DAMN NOBLE, IN THE RIGHT. FIGHTING FOR FRIENDS...FOR LOVE. YOU PUSHED JUST AS MANY BUTTONS AS I DID. YOU SENT JUST AS MANY PEOPLE TO THEIR DEATH...BUT THAT DOESN'T MATTER BECAUSE 'THEY'RE THE BAD GUYS'. YOU THINK FLAME NEVER TORTURED ANYONE? YOUR MUCH-LAUDED WRECKERS? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT PROWL DID TO THE MECHS ON GARRUS-2, OR HOW MANY BLACK HOLES BRAINSTORM CREATED TO DESTROY ENTIRE SOLAR SYSTEMS? AND YOU'RE THE GOOD GUYS."
He pauses for a moment, all that anger just seems to leave him. "CYBERTRON WILL BE BETTER WHEN WE'RE ALL DEAD."
Dreadwind slowly stands up and begins moving toward the Cybex Forge, glancing over his shoulder at Soundwave's closing words, "Finally, somebody gets it..."
Dreadwind speaks mostly to himself, "Well... except, of course, Cybertron is already doomed, anyway."
Physically pushed away, Blaster takes a step back. He leers at Soundwave's ruined arm. "At least now we're even," he laughs, energon running freely from his broken face. He slowly raises his Electro-Scrambler, mirroring Soundwave. Sensing movement, however, he glances towards where Dreadwind is moving towards the Cybex Forge. About to pull the trigger, he pauses."
We're not all going to die, Soundwave -- just you. If there is a new protoform there, the Autobots will have it. Elita One is already on her way." Blaster glances over at Dreadwind in disgust. "And you have, who -- Dreadwind?" Blaster hoots with insulting derision. "You're on the wrong side of history, Soundwave, and you've lost. We ARE the good guys, and you will be remembered for what you are -- a villain."
Soundwave's face is impassive. He's had a lifetime of showing no emotion, and his outburst was finished. He wasn't going to win this fight...but it occured to him that it didn't matter. it....That protoform. Blaster was going to get to it.
"OF COURSE. THE MOMENT I'M DEAD, THE WORLD WILL REVIVE PERFECTLY, AND EVERYONE WILL THANK YOU. I'M SURE EARTH WILL THANK YOU. REMEMBER EARTH, BLASTER? REMEMBER YOUR PLEDGE TO KEEP IT SAFE?" He shakes his head slowly, "HISTORY IS WRITTEN BY THE VICTOR. AND WE WON THIS WAR. THIS...IS JUST YOU AND I."
He thought of his loss. The rest was easy.
The concussion rifle roared.
Blaster aims for Soundwave's broken faceplate. "You call the near complete destruction of Cybertron a win for the Decepticons? THIS is why you are the villain in this piece, Soundwave -- and this is why ultimately you will LOSE."
Blaster frowns deeply, struggling to stay vertical as the damage from his wounds starts to catch up with him. Nonetheless he is almost calm as he squeezes the
>> Soundwave strikes AU-Blaster with Concussion-Cannon <High>. <<
>> AU-Blaster strikes Soundwave with Electro-Blaster <Medium>. <<
Dreadwind hears his name called, but doesn't look back. Soundwave seems to have the Autobot pretty well distracted. He makes sure to save a little power for his wrist blasters, but diverts more to his movement systems, heading straight toward the Forge's entrance.
Blaster's shot was off-target, catching Soundwave in the same wounded shoulder.. It hurt, but it wasn't life-threatening. Blaster still stood though. And most of his Energon was used up in that single shot he had. Soundwave's knee gives out, and the mech crashes to the ground. Instinctively, he tries to catch himself, and is only mildly successful, getting his arm beneath him as he falls. His body refused to cooperate, glinting purple energon oozing out of his shoulder.
Soundwave stared up at Blaster. "YOU FAILED TO UNDERSTAND. THIS WAS ABOUT SURVIVAL. AND IN THAT.....WE LOST. WE ALL LOST." He slowly draws his weapon out, and raises it, propping it up on his elbow.
"MAYBE WE CAN YET SURVIVE....AFTER YOU DIE."
>> Soundwave strikes AU-Blaster with Concussion-Cannon <Medium>. <<
Blaster tries to dodge, but Soundwave's attack tears into him. The concussive blast shatters his rusted armor, revealing more of his oil-slicked innards. He flips around his Electro-Scrambler in his hand and rushes Soundwave, wielding his weapon like a club as he drives it towards Soundwave's optic band. "Just die already, you son of a glitch!" he yells, anger returning.
"You killed my friends! You ruined Cybertron! You are the bad guy here, not me! You! YOU! **YOU!** I am not responsible! We are not the villains!" Energon runs down Blaster's broken face. Standing over the wounded Soundwave, Blaster screams at the top of his lungs as he tries to use his gun as a bludgeon to beat Soundwave to death.
>> AU-Blaster strikes Soundwave with Hammer-Punch. <<
Soundwave is overcome by injuries, losing consciousness.
And again silence echoes over Cybertron, Soundwave sprawled upon the ground, precious little energon spilling from his form. He digs his digits into the ground, his hand trembling.
The Decepticon raises his head. His body was giving out. He glanced past Blaster, towards Dreadwind. In a fit of black humor, he considered if the morose one was right.
His hand clenched again, digging deeper into the ground.
His vision flickered, as he looked at what he had done. Those little furrows in the earth.
They were so small.
Like five tiny graves.
Oblivion took him.