On the outlands of Haven, the Badlands are surging to life.
Megatronus stands with his brother Alpha Trion, the two as different as night and day. The picture of calm, the thinner Trion stands behind the bulwark that is his more physically inclined sibling, massive tome in hand. Optics and biolights aglow with concentration, he stands vulnerable and distracted as clawed shadows rage on either side of them both. Some come within arms-reach before they - and swaths of their fellows - are cut down by Megatronus' blade, pieces trailing burning cinders and ash.
The Prime Guardian of Entropy moves like a wraith, the shadows no match for his flame and fury - if it were not for the sheer numbers
they have, replacing the fallen, the outcome of the battle would have already been assured.
Alpha Trion seems unfazed, the glowing gaze flicking briefly toward the camera with only a nod.
"I am a bit busy concentrating at the moment, but I think I've managed to establish a link to the network. Megatronus, if you'd please issue the call...
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