Optimus Prime has been resurrected, including the other Autobots who had died during the Cybertronian Wars. The Decepticons have been banished into outer space, on a desolate planet with no supplies, and are slowly dying off.
But what these two races don't know is that yet another titanic event will cause them to restart the epoch-spanning Wars, as something thought to be a myth on both sides turns out to be real. This myth could spell the beginning of universal peace and harmony in the universe. Or, if fallen into evil hands, could spell doom for all.
He was falling, falling, falling into a hole that seemed to reek of nothing but darkness. All around him, hands tried to reach him, moaning as they did. Some screamed. Some managed to grab his head, tugging at it. And he screamed as he fell, fell, fell.
And when he stopped falling, more hands were reaching, reaching, reaching. "NO!" he yelled. For the love of Primus, leave me! he bellowed. But they kept getting closer and closer, until he was drowning in a sea of hands, dead hands that were reaching inside him.
Don't let them get me! Please, please, please don't let them get me! Where that voice came from, he didn't know. But it screamed in his head, and he wept, because it sounded so frightened and he could do nothing. And the hands had gone, only to be replaced by a giant, black Darkness.
And it swallowed him whole, compressing him until he was torn apart. A voice cackled maniacally with laughter. You are MINE! it shrieked in triumph. And the Matrix was gone, vanished into the darkness to an unseen hand that belonged to an unseen force.
And all this while, that same frightened voice was still shrieking, getting louder and louder, until he felt he would explode...