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Primal Fear
"Freedom is a lie, fear is the only right of all sentient creatures..."
Level 5 Decepticon
Primal Fear's Bio
Intercepted comms chatter was one of Evil the Car's favourite radio stations, especially the Autobot emergency channel. He loved to have a good cackle at his enemies misfortune, and the days when their secret weapon was on deployment were the greatest. He delicately tuned the frequency modulator, hacking into to the electronic whispering of the war, knowing that his bastard of a team mate was out there ready to lure a group of hapless do-gooders into yet another trap.
Its was comical really. Optimus Prime, the glorious hero of the Autobot resistance who rallied his downtrodden and reluctant troops against Megatron's evil rampaging decepticons, would occasionally deem a group of them worthy of his presence, lift his chrome-plated aft from his gilded throne and bail out his bedraggled minions as they were cut to ribbons in whatever suicide mission they have been deployed to that morning, bringing 'hope' to his people again.
Hope. What a pointless concept.
The ability to lie to your troops and pretend everything was fine, when in reality they were getting killed in their thousands. The Heavy Metal War they had been fighting for millennia was littered with the wreckage of teams who had given up the fight, but still Optimus Prime spoke of 'hope' and those idiots kept on fighting, blindly trusting every single word he said, time and time again...
Something had to be done about this jumped up archivist, and it finally fell to WarPorn Industries, media empire and subterfuge specialists of the RDD. Their role was simple; Sow discord into the autobot ranks, and break their spirit. To tarnish the legacy of Optimus Prime so that when the autobots see their 'great' leader they wont know whether to trust his word or to believe in his message, as it might be a trap, a lie, a ruse.
He can no longer be a symbol of 'hope'.
The 'greatest' Prime's physical build was well known to everyone. His strengths and weaknesses had been closely studied by both enemy and ally alike, but none had studied him closer than Psychout, the decepticons chief psychological warfare architect, and CEO and head alcohol-consumer at WarPorn. Every last detail about that giant red beacon of banality had been recorded, cross checked and triple checked by the meticulous cassetticon, who then passed his data along to Mal Practice.
The work began in the height of secrecy, hidden away from everyone initially including even the decepticon command, but their discovery only led to further funding for the project, speeding its development. In the dark and forbidding labs of the great Mal Practice, components, diodes and circuits were stolen, altered and manipulated. Body shells were cast and then re-cast to ensure perfection. Weapon technology was studied and enhanced to ensure it was just right. Personality matrices were programmed and re-programmed a thousand times to ensure the perfect neural match was created.
A willing sacrifice was found - a fanatic who believed in the Decepticon cause and willing to give his programming for it, was selected. His chassis modifications were simple, but millimetre perfect. His colouration, build, posture, weapon and even this thought processes were changed to be an exact duplicate of Cybertrons greatest hero. Not even Soundwave's telepathy would be able to tell the difference between this newly minted soldier and Optimus Prime, the shining beacon of 'hope' to his soldiers. Once the build was completed, it was time for it to be handed over to the teams true Master.
The only light in the vast chamber were two sets of glowing optics, and the white flaming heat of enraged metal from a dais in the centre. Suspended over the radiant cogs of the Necronomitron's altar, the duplicate of Optimus Prime hung, motionless, near unconscious after its reformatting ordeal. It's quiet groans of agony as the electrical flames kissed its spine matched its original perfectly, its eyes filling the room above with a perfectly-copied blue hue. Below, shrouded in an ancient robe bearing the faded sigil of 2 linked cogs on its back, Hazard, rotated the near catatonic clone to face him and slid his sacred blade along the sternum of his victim, exposing its spark. Tendrils of acrid purple and grey smoke eminated from the glowing metal gears on the platform below, and wove towards the handle of the blade in Hazard's yellow-plated hands. Taking it from the cowled cardinals claws and covering it in a caustic shell it plunged deep into the chest cavity of the slumbering autobot doppelganger without warning, flooding the chamber with an invasive and painful absence of light as it was all banished from the chantry. An explosive energy wave threw Hazard across the room with enough force to thrash him instantly into stasis lock, as the false savior above writhed in pain.. The Prime's scream as the demon flooded his essence shook the foundations of the vast compound, and a deafening silence descended as the shock drained away from the other inhabitants. The Master had spoken. As the light faded, the cogs of the Necromonitron, auditor of reality and bringer of death crackled as they melted even further into the alter as they cooled. The Master's work was finished.
Hazard was booted back into consciousness, and quickly fled to find his boss, their job complete.
...
"We're taking heavy fire... We're outnumbered, Impactor is down and he's our only... and, oh Slag, they've got Gore with them! ...oh wait, I can see Optimus! We're saved!..." Evil leant forward in his chair, riveted to the 'bots battle chatter, chuckling to himself, These rookies are in for a shock. "Optimus is here? We're saved!" came an elated reply, and the transmission was filled with the static of naive cheers of relief and joy. A voice broke the cacophony, one that was instantly recognisable;
"Autobots, form up on me! We can not allow the Decepticons to prevail, we must protect the shipment back to Iacon! Now transform, and roll out!"
The voice was eerie, a perfect match in tone, accent and inflection. How Evil the Car wished he could see the autobots faces on a visual feed right now, but he could hear the glee in their voices as their 'savior' returned to give them hope. Parasite silently crept in to the chamber and stood behind Evil to listen as well, both bracing for the trademark follow up line their clone colleague had become so revered for. The sound of transformations filled the airwaves as the autobots moved to their more nimble vehicle modes, preparing to escape now their leader had come to save them, but on cue the decepticons sprang their trap. The crashing boom of explosions muffled the screams, their intensity causing their speakers to crackle and smoke with feedback, as both Parasite and Evil reverently whispered the words as Primal Fear spoke them to his doomed autobot victims;
"Freedom is a lie, fear is the only right of all sentient creatures..."
Primal Fear's recent battles
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| ARENA HISTORY |
| Primal Fear does not currently have any arena logs available. |
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