Full-Tilt shielded his eyes as the sun rose over the Obernian hill. Several hours had passed since the conversation with Shockwave at this point. A cold mist hung low in the air, visible due to the flames that danced from the ruins of the scattered buildings.

"I did a bad thing," Trypticon stated. The words came out slowly, hollowly.

Full-Tilt turned his head in the direction of the smoking village, to the charred corpses of the Obernians that lay strewn about. He patted his hand against Trypticon's massive leg, sending a reverberating "clank" throughout the silence.

"No, no," Full-Tilt said with his head lowered and his voice threatening to crack, "You did good. You did good."

A gust of wind spilled across the Obernian plain, lightly brushing the ruins of Sador with its delicate kiss. A scrap of red ribbon spiraled into the air, and then it was gone, carried away by the wind.