Rule of Madness

Remembering

Ratchet ran as quickly as he could, optics set on Sideswipe, unconscious amid deactivated frames, Sunstreaker standing over his twin in a protective stance.

"Give me some slagging room!" Ratchet snapped at the golden frontliner, the younger mech stepping aside quickly, alert for any impending danger to the medic now caring for his twin.

Ratchet quickly assessed the damages to the red mech's frame, taking in the sparking wiring from his knee, the joint twisted awkwardly, warping the nearby plating. There was energon leaking from a large gash in Sideswipe's helm, no doubt the reason for his unconsciousness, and Ratchet patched that first.

It was in this moment, his life had changed. Ratchet looked up at the sound of high-performance engines, optics following the path of a black and blue streak all the way towards Optimus.

The Prime was battered and staggering on his right leg, Megatron looking no better for wear, the two at a stalemate, with neither strong enough to gain the upper hand... That is, until a lithe, black and blue seeker landed on Optimus' back, clawed digits tearing into the big mech's plating and tearing a howl from between the Autobot's lips.

Ratchet saw it unfold in slow motion, Optimus staggering forwards, Megatron grabbing his helm and forcing it back to expose the Prime's intake, then the flash of a sword as Ratchet's friend's helm was separated from his frame. The warlord's next strike punched straight through Optimus' spark chamber, jerking free with the matrix in servo.

The deafening sounds quieted for a moment before a rising cheer came from the surrounding Decepticons... It was then that Prowl had shouted for the retreat, moments before Motormaster shot him down.

Sunstreaker lifted Sideswipe into his arms, a panicked expression on his faceplates as he looked at Ratchet, taking flight.

Unnerved by the fear in the gold autobots optics, Ratchet had been spurred into action, getting to his pedes and running, running, running. Running until he was overtaken by Blast Off and Swindle, the two Combaticons easily subduing him...

Ratchet was dragged back through the carnage of the battlefield, right passed Optimus' graying frame, chassis torn nearly clean away, Decepticons tearing pieces of plating off as souvinours... Ramjet looking at him with a savage grin, servos running with energon.

Megatron stepping towards Ratchet and the group of captive Autobots, holding Optimus' severed helm directly in Ratchet's faceplates, the optics dark, the severed cabling still dripping life fluids...

"You're Prime is gone. There will never be another Prime again." Megatron hissed, and Ratchet could feel the fear and grief from those around him, he himself shrinking back when Megatron leaned in close to his audio. "And I have the Prime's little pet right here... I find myself lacking in that department."

Ratchet jerked upright with a cry, optics wide and overbright with fear and horror, helm swivelling this way and that as he searched his surroundings for the menacing form of the warlord, memory finally catching up to him. Megatron wasn't here. No one was here but him.

Sitting fully upright, Ratchet shivered, partly from fear and grief, and partly from the cold condensation collected on his frame.

Shivering, the old autobot stood upright and moved over to the small window, looking out over a nearly rebuilt Cybertron. Since their arrival a few megacycles ago, more and more Decepticons had been arriving on planet, some he didn't even remember seeing. Some thought offline for millenial.

Ratchet released a sad exvent as he studied the light slowly growing in the darkened skies, painting a symphony of colour in a world full of pain and grief for Autobots.