Hot Rod gasped and began to struggle towards the wall of the crater. Emissary was safe with Windblade. The Cityspeaker would make sure no harm came to him. As long as the diminutive Titan Master stayed out of harm's way, everything would be all right. The others would find some way to wake Fortress Maximus. Trypticon would be stopped. Peace would be restored.
He had done his part. Now, all he could do was wait. Maybe someone would find him. Maybe they'd rescue him. Maybe they'd kill him. Hot Rod didn't mind either way; he knew that by saving Emissary he'd done enough to prevent Cybertron's destruction. Even if he died today, he'd die knowing he had helped others to live.
As he lay against the wall, unable to move his legs, barely able to exert motor control over the upper half of his body, a quiet rain began to fall, darkening patches of earth and softly pinging off Hot Rod's metal exterior. He didn't mind. Despite the flame decals that had always been part of his signature "look", he didn't hate the water. Not at all. It felt nice. He could die with a little… ambience. He opened his faceplate and let the rain wash over his chrome lips.
The sound of a tank revving on the other side of the crater wall opposite him.
"Oh, great," Hot Rod sighed. Not a rescue party, probably. Most tanks were Decepticons. Sure, they were all "at peace" now, but he doubted someone like Blitzwing or Brawl would miss the opportunity to off one of their most annoying enemies from back in the days of the Great War.
Zrok-zrok-zrik-zrok-zrik. The sound of a transformation from alt-mode to robot mode. Yet it sounded like there were two of them…?
A single figure appeared above the crater's ridge. He was easily twice the size of a "normal" Cybertronian such as Hot Rod. Blue and white were his predominant colors, but large purple cone-shaped spikes adorned his shoulders. "Howdy," he said as he jumped down into the corner, beginning to pace around Hot Rod's fallen body.
Large, blue, and consisting of two vehicles transforming into one robot? Overlord. Hot Rod had never come face-to-face with the feared Decepticon warrior during the war, but he'd heard the stories. Even without his near-invincible Phase Sixer armor, he was one of the scariest opponents any Autobot had ever faced. He had never been defeated- only outrun.
Well. At least Hot Rod could go down with a smile on his face. "I'd offer you a chair, Overlord, but, ah…" He began to get nervous, and even a little… excited… at the prospect of confronting such a powerful enemy. No matter what happened, it would be an interesting encounter.
"Oh, that's okay, thanks," said Overlord. "I've been sittin' most of the day anyway." So he could banter, too. Fine. There had to be some way to pique the massive Decepticon's interest. Maybe a more logical approach would work.
"Come to pick over the scraps?" Hot Rod said. "Not a lot of pleasure in offing someone who can't fight back."
Overlord leaned over him and grinned. "Well, not for you…"
Enough with the games. Time to show Overlord that Hot Rod was no easy prey. He raised his still-functional left arm and triggered his wrist-mounted cannons, choosing his words very carefully so as to make clear his intent. "Suck… my… exhaust… pipe."
The blast didn't even faze the Decepticon. Hot Rod couldn't let it show in his face, but he was impressed by Overlord's incredible power. If there was one thing that he truly admired, it was strength. Even Optimus wouldn't have withstood a direct blast to the head like that.
"Ooh, yeah," said Overlord, his magnificent lips puckering around each word. "You're gonna do nicely."
Hot Rod couldn't help but wonder what this meant. And though he knew there was surely nothing good in store for him, he was filled with curiosity at what Overlord might be planning. Hot Rod had been captured by Decepticons a few times during the war, but he'd always escaped or been rescued quickly. He'd never been subject long-term to their intentions. It would surely be painful and violent. He began to shake mildly at the thought of such a new experience.
"Do what?" Hot Rod asked, teasing his foe. "Kick your hatch back?"
"No, no, no," said Overlord, laughing and shaking his head. "I'm not here to fight you, boy. There's just something I'd like you to… carry. And then… I'm gonna watch the sparks fly. Literally. Mmhmhmhm. Ehehehehehehehehe!" A compartment opened up in the Decepticon's lower torso, exposing… something… that glowed with a brilliant purple light, so blinding one could barely make out what it was.
Hot Rod gasped with shock as he recognized the distinctive silhouette of the tool Overlord had now exposed. He couldn't believe it. He'd heard the rumors of some Decepticons doing this to their fallen enemies, but to think that he was actually going to see it happen first-hand? That it was going to happen to himself? It was breathtaking. He stared at Overlord, as if to confirm what his opponent intended.
Overlord smiled. "Yeah… this oughta put some pain on yer hood. Ehehehehe. Oh! Hahahahaha!" Moving in towards Hot Rod's immobile form, he crouched down, driving the shining purple object into Hot Rod's body with deliberate force.
Hot Rod had expected, even waited for this violent insertion, but he was still taken back by how painful and strong Overlord's thrust was. As the young Autobot lay beneath his predatory enemy, struggling against the larger Decepticon's immense strength, struggling through the horrible feeling spreading from his lower torso, he gave in to the immense swell of emotional rush he was experiencing and let out a moan. "Ohhhh… AHHHHHH!"
The entire time, Overlord continued to chuckle, excited by his utter dominance over his helpless prey. Thrusting his mysterious tool deeper and deeper into young Hot Rod's squirming body, he felt pure delight at having succeeded with his forceful penetration. "Ahahaha!"
The anguished screams of a violated Autobot, the fervently excited laughter of a dominant Decepticon, and the active hum of an unknown object joined the calming sound of rain.