The Matrix. A mysterious artefact that came about before even the glorious golden age. A symbol of knowledge and wisdom, peace and harmony. Carried only by those blessed by Primus. They were named Prime, a cybertronian who could speak for all of Cybertron. Looks of awe and respect followed every Prime who came before the Thirteen.
The most recent Prime, Optimus, was said to be the greatest of the Primes who came before the Thirteen. Beloved by many cybertronians and more than one autobot's reason to continue fighting. Continue their path towards extinction, because that's what this war was doing, and nobody cared enough to notice.
In his eyes, Optimus was no saint or holy figure. Optimus was a fraud. Despite spouting all his peace-driven ideals when it came down to putting them to practice he failed. Every time the war could have been won and finally stop, the Prime stood back and allowed the enemy to regain their strength. It was a continuous, cruel cycle that showed no sign of stopping. Until, the fateful day where Megatron got his hands on the Matrix, brutally torn from the Prime's battered frame.
Rodimus knew a chance when he saw it, and this was it. Hundreds of plans were considered and thrown away in his bid to retrieve the Matrix. He abandoned Bumblebee and his crowd to find a way of the damned planet called Earth. He knew his plan had risks, honestly, who trusted someone who was named Swindle? That was just asking for trouble.
Finally, after the battle that was so very inevitable and obvious, Rodimus was free from the chains of Earth and could pursue his foe. He knew that he might not come back from this mission alive, but if he could find someone truly worthy of the Matrix… The high stakes were worth it many times over in his eyes.
The cruiser was massive, and the corridors were mazelike in their build. It was too quiet for his liking but there was no choice but to press forward. In the throne room, the rogue autobot fought Megatron and retrieved the Matrix but at a high cost. Drifting in space, his frame flickered from red to grey as the large hole in his chest fritzed constantly.
There was no pain where he was which was disconcerting because he knew there was a gaping hole his frame suffered from. Rodimus tried to move his hand and discovered that he had no hand. Or body. Around him was the familiar sight of space but not. The atmosphere was lighter and the colour's' mixing playfully in the sky were purple, red, and pink instead of an endless shading of blue and indigo.
Time spent in this odd world was immeasurable but Rodimus found he didn't mind. There was a feeling of peace wrapped around his spirit that he had not felt in eons. Pleasure was the only thing his spirit could process; warmth, joy, and safety. It could have been a minute or a century before something changed. Pain began to filter back and his spirit began feeling the chill that was space chip away at his returning frame. He didn't want to leave and tried to prolong his stay in this world as long as he could. In the end, he closed his eyes and allowed his spirit to merge back into his frame.
When Rodimus woke, the Matrix was a pleasant hum against his chest plates and he was falling quickly to an unknown planet. He felt regret that he left the world, but he had a mission now: Return to Earth and find someone who was worthy of the artefact around his neck. He would tell no-one that he dwelled in the Matrix or that he was blessed by the artefact itself in his lifetime.
