AUDIO; location - Vector Prime's Temple

[thehardway]

I was debriefed on the situation at hand. I will say this: temporal displacement is specifically against all laws known to me. However, since this was ... an accident and not due in part to any present individuals that I know of, it seems that this is an issue I'll have to let go of.

That aside, I do have other pressing matters at hand.

I am Ultra Magnus, second in command of the Lost Light and agent of the Tyrest Accord. Rodimus, if you are present, respond.

Any other members of the Lost Light should report to me immediately.

If there's anyone else who feels they need to give me additional information, I will accept.

Ultra Magnus, out.

Comments

[Action]

[ichooseboth]

[Vague enough to make Optimus' vents huff with muffled frustration, but he moves to gently rest a hand back on the other mech's shoulder once more.]

By who?

[Because he's already figured out that there is more to this than some embarrassing tumble down a mountain or something foolish like that.

He could find out from someone else, of course. But he'd rather know it from Fort Max himself.]

[Action]

[warborn]

[and Max...well, Max?

promptly flinches away from the touch, then badly tries to cover it by just. moving his hand to wave it away no he's fine don't touch him-]

'Con. Was a 'Con.

[Action]

[ichooseboth]

[Raising his hands back up, Optimus easily takes a step back - and really wishes he hadn't half expected a reaction like that.

He's not oblivious to the clues.]

I didn't expect it to be one of ours, Max.

[His tone is gentle, with no hint of blame.]

...It was Overlord, wasn't it?

[Action]

[warborn]

[if Optimus expects him to respond to that, he's mistaken. at least - verbally. there's no verbal response.

there's utter silence and a tensing of every servo in his body, there's Max going absolutely rigid as though bracing himself for /something/ as his vents stutter...

but no response.

not even a nod.

it probably speaks for itself.]

[Action]

[ichooseboth]

...Easy, Max. Easy.

[Optimus tenses, concerned, but makes no move to touch the injured mech again, simply watching and waiting for any reaction. Good or bad.]

It's alright, my friend. ...You are safe here.

[Action]

[warborn]

[he wants to get up and walk out, but - he can't even get to his feet. that much is obvious. or he can, but he'd fall, and there's further evidence of how he is, and-

-he can't exactly tell Prime to get out, because he's the slagging /Prime/.

Max feels trapped, and he Does Not Like the feeling. his fingers curl in to weak fists, a grimace forming on his face as he stares at the floor.

safe? there is no safety. not where Overlord's concerned. there's moments of rest between torments, and this- this is just one of them, and he needs to stop this, he needs to /end/ this, he-]

Are we done.

[the words are tight and hollow, wanting to be left /alone/]