Transformers.2007 | FRESH • Workflow |

Lennox’s ears were still ringing from the battle of Mission City. The acrid smell of melted asphalt and burnt ozone clung to everything. In the center of the devastation, Optimus Prime—the towering, red-and-blue leader of the Autobots—knelt on one knee. His optics, usually blazing with the warmth of a campfire, were dimmed to a soft, weary glow.

Starscream.

“He would do it again,” Jazz added, his lean, silver frame flickering with residual energy damage. “It is the way of our spark.”

“A vault built into the core of Cybertron’s moon. Designed to hold artifacts of catastrophic power. The AllSpark’s opposite. A place of absolute silence where no spark lives, no signal transmits. It would be… dead space. The Cube would sleep forever.” transformers.2007

Lennox grabbed his radio. “All units, defensive positions! Autobots, get the hell out of here!”

Optimus gave one last look at Sam. Then, with a surge of blinding light, the Ark’s space bridge tore a hole in reality itself. The Autobots—carrying Bumblebee, carrying the Cube, carrying the memory of a battle fought on a strange little world—stepped through.

Lennox straightened his uniform. “Then we buy you a window. How long do you need?” Lennox’s ears were still ringing from the battle

For the first time, tears welled in Sam’s eyes. Not from fear. From the sudden, crushing weight of farewell.

Optimus placed a hand, larger than Sam’s entire torso, gently on the boy’s shoulder. The pressure was immense but perfectly controlled.

Mikaela took his hand.

“He took the shot for me,” Sam whispered. “Mikaela and I would have been… slag.”

“No,” Optimus said firmly. He stood to his full height, blocking out the emerging stars. “The Cube is creation itself. To destroy it carelessly could unravel a solar system. There is another way. A legend among my people. The Tomb of the Primes.”