Prompt 2
Blackout frowned, though the expression was hard to read in his physiognomy. Metrotitan was burning. Only…burning didn’t seem a word big enough, violent enough for the conflagration that seemed to light up the entire northern horizon. The city was burning and with it, the future of Cybertron.
They hadn’t listened. Megatron had warned them about the aliens, but they hadn’t listened. Too caught up in their petty power games, too caught up trying to line their nests with luxury. They had been blind. No. Worse than that. Deliberately blinded themselves , ignored the warning signs. Blown off Starscream’s alarm when he had first encountered them as poor Rules of Engagement. Mocked Megatron’s exhortation for more resources, more freedom of movement in deploying his troops.
And now…they were reaping what they sowed. Only it wasn’t just the Council paying the price, it was the citizens of Metrotitan. It was Metrotitan itself. Innocents, in a sense, in that they had no warning. In fact, the representatives from Metrotitan had probably fled the city at the first sign of danger, leaving their constituents to be slaughtered, doubtless already plotting how they could turn this tragedy to advantage-recovery funds, special earmarks for friends.
“Entire system’s corrupt,” he heard himself mutter. It was eerie-Metrotitan, from this distance, was dying silently. Neither sound nor heat could travel as far as the slow grim red orange waves of light. Both were swallowed up by distance, but the sky glowed with a kind of anger such as Blackout had never seen. As if Cybertron itself raved at the injustice of it all, furious at its denizens’ betrayal.
He heard footsteps next to him. He turned halfway, not wanting to take his gaze from the flaming death of one of Cybertron’s great cities. It felt like a kind of treason to dare to look away. A cowardice not to stare the worst in the face.
“What do you think, Blackout?” Megatron asked. “What do you think when you see this?” Nothing with Megatron was an empty query. Blackout was being sounded for something.
The rotary hesitated. “I think that the Cybertron that rises from the ash and slag of Metrotitan will be a very different one. I just don’t know how.”
“Yes,” Megatron said. “They will realize that they need us.”
“And…if they don’t?” Blackout could imagine the Council turning against the CDF, blaming them for ‘letting’ this happen. As though they had nothing to do with hamstringing the fighting effectiveness, banning the CDF from fighting within city boundaries, limiting their materiel. All that would matter would be the speeches. Blackout hated speeches. He had seen, was seeing, what empty speeches accomplished.
“Then,” a brittle smile. “We shall make them.”
They hadn’t listened. Megatron had warned them about the aliens, but they hadn’t listened. Too caught up in their petty power games, too caught up trying to line their nests with luxury. They had been blind. No. Worse than that. Deliberately blinded themselves , ignored the warning signs. Blown off Starscream’s alarm when he had first encountered them as poor Rules of Engagement. Mocked Megatron’s exhortation for more resources, more freedom of movement in deploying his troops.
And now…they were reaping what they sowed. Only it wasn’t just the Council paying the price, it was the citizens of Metrotitan. It was Metrotitan itself. Innocents, in a sense, in that they had no warning. In fact, the representatives from Metrotitan had probably fled the city at the first sign of danger, leaving their constituents to be slaughtered, doubtless already plotting how they could turn this tragedy to advantage-recovery funds, special earmarks for friends.
“Entire system’s corrupt,” he heard himself mutter. It was eerie-Metrotitan, from this distance, was dying silently. Neither sound nor heat could travel as far as the slow grim red orange waves of light. Both were swallowed up by distance, but the sky glowed with a kind of anger such as Blackout had never seen. As if Cybertron itself raved at the injustice of it all, furious at its denizens’ betrayal.
He heard footsteps next to him. He turned halfway, not wanting to take his gaze from the flaming death of one of Cybertron’s great cities. It felt like a kind of treason to dare to look away. A cowardice not to stare the worst in the face.
“What do you think, Blackout?” Megatron asked. “What do you think when you see this?” Nothing with Megatron was an empty query. Blackout was being sounded for something.
The rotary hesitated. “I think that the Cybertron that rises from the ash and slag of Metrotitan will be a very different one. I just don’t know how.”
“Yes,” Megatron said. “They will realize that they need us.”
“And…if they don’t?” Blackout could imagine the Council turning against the CDF, blaming them for ‘letting’ this happen. As though they had nothing to do with hamstringing the fighting effectiveness, banning the CDF from fighting within city boundaries, limiting their materiel. All that would matter would be the speeches. Blackout hated speeches. He had seen, was seeing, what empty speeches accomplished.
“Then,” a brittle smile. “We shall make them.”