by Destroyificator Prime » Mon Nov 03, 2008 10:32 am
whole of Seibertron gave off its own unique scent which no matter how faint, was overpowering. He could accurately discern the location of every last thing he could smell, which to his own reckoning was the whole of the galaxy. He knew that in the far reaches of his minds edge there was a reason, a purpose, some thing or task he was set to do, but whatever that was, was insignificant. He was ravenously hungry, and that beat out any other pressing task he had at the moment. Powersurge made one last feel of the surface of the planet to confirm his decision. There, in his chosen spot, lay a bounty of energy in such delicious forms! The colors, flavors and smells he perceived were most certainly those of his favorite meals; self aware programings! He summoned up an impossibly small amount of his rapidly dissipating energy and moved the whole of his being, body and mind, instantaneously to his eating place. He felt/saw thousands of beings, all of which seemed disturbed or puzzled by his presence. It did not concern him. He was hungry and thousands of potential meals lay there for his taking.
He separated his material form into a mass of wriggling tentacles of glowing gold metal. After a moment of motor-skill co-ordination, he lashed them out at all possible targets. The feeble lesser beings had no chance to react as he ensnared the whole of the City or Iaocon, while each strike was independent, he attacked with such speed that all the inhabitants though they were hit simultaneously. Thousands of Seibertronian sparks we dissolved and absorbed into the collective that was known as Powersurge. In less than an instant ten percent of the whole of the Transformers’ race had perished. For less than that time Powersurge felt satiated. As soon as he dined, he knew without a doubt, it was time Powersurge smelled and tasted the whole of the planet. Every last spark of energy on the to eat again.
Ultra Magnus stood on Lookout Point alongside his aide Crossroads. From their vantage, it appeared the whole city had momentarily been covered in gold-plating and then dissolved. Crossroads retracted his visual enhancers. He grew weak in the knees at the sight they beheld. Ultra Magnus seemed unmoved. He stood, motionless and expressionless, gazing at the mass of gold liquid that was slowly moving across the surface of his beloved city. Crossroads thought of trying to say something comforting to his Commander, but decided against it when he saw he had his hands clenched into fists so tightly his digits were piercing through his exo-skins causing a trickle of lubricants leak
“Boss, what do you reckon that thing is?” Crossroads asked. “ And what do you think we should do about it?” He had never in his young life of 35,000 years seen anything like it.
Ultra Magnus stared intently at the gold glowing liquid. “ I don’t know what it is. But it melted my city. And it is going to be deleted.” He turned to face his aide. “ Just like it deleted my family.”
Crossroads gave a small gasp. He remembered that Ultra Magnus was in fact related to the most noble of all Autobot factions, the Family of Primes, which for countless eons inhabited Iaocon City’s affluent North Side. It was the same area that had just been wiped from existence by a completely unknown thing. Suddenly it became boldly obvious what had just happened. “ Boss, you don’t mean..” Crossroads began.
Ultra Magnus turned away from Crossroads and stared back at the scene of carnage. “That’s right. Optimus Prime is dead.”