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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Solus stands poised with the fully-assembled, towering form of Nexus Prime at the opening to one of the subterranean tunnels. A small herd of acolytes is accompanying them, carrying crates of supplies - metal, energon, and raw materials. While the combiner-Prime would normally just barely fit in the smallest of Solus' tunnel workings, this tunnel dwarfs even him.

It is a vast, primary shaft; wide and formal and clearly important enough to have earned additional detailing in the very walls. It carries an air of reverence that is obvious even over the comm, that of a temple, rather than a simple maintenance shaft.

This is something special.

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The view from the sky is - for lack of any other word - chaotic, with fully half the wide field of view dominated by either the vast orange spires or the maw-filled void of the Lambda. Small, flying shadow-drones cloud the area, traveling in swarms and converging on the attackers. To the First Forged, they are nothing more than an annoyance and - more importantly, a distraction to the swift Primes, who are apparently attempting to converge on the attacking world.

Both Prima and Vector flit through the air with ease, though even their sibling-leader cannot best Vector in his home domain of the sky. Where Vector dodges, distracts, and teleports his enemies - away, or even into each other - Prima carves, cleaving his way through groups of fiends, doggedly charging his way across the sky-bound battlefield.

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While his brethren are out, seeking to destroy the dual incursions of Demons and Unicron...

Liege has waited, patiently.

His goals have always differed from those of the other thirteen, and now that they are distracted he can put forth a bid for his true desire: Control of the Lambda.

He appears on the network standing on a snow-capped balcony, shadowed by the near-perpetual darkness of his frigid towers.

"Listen, and listen well. To fight is hopeless. We have no guarantee of Primus's return, and we have even less guarantee that we can hold our own against this dual-sided assault. There is another way."

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