It had been easy enough to fool the guards. Then again, Primus supposed he could have done it just fine beforehand, given how incompetent some of these Autobots were. Most of them, really.
'How in the world did these fools even manage to even conquer Cybertron?' he thought to himself, as he sauntered through the hangar bay of the Lost Light, in search of a shuttle that was already prepped and ready to go. Not being too picky, he came across a particularly gauddy one, built with similar designs and color palette of a certain captain of this dysfunctional ship.
Realising that he hadn't the faintest idea on how to fly the ship, he tapped into the Well, scanning the collective knowledge of all his children who had joined him who had been pilots in life. Snapping back into reality, he went through each initial check needed, and took off from the Autobot warship, making a beeline for the planet below, following the lingering trace of Unicron's call.
Now needing only to wait for his brother's inevitable arrival, Unicron resigned himself to be amongst his creations. Picking up a newspaper, he strolled into the park he had chosen to meet Primus in, and found a suitable bench to rest at, one under a shady tree. He wasn't quite sure what the name of this city was, but he supposed it didn't matter much, as he knew they would not be spending much time here anyways. He observed his surroundings for a little while, now fully taking in what the populace of his being had created.
To try and pass the time, he turned to the newspaper he had picked up, and quickly realised that he had yet to learn the written languages of his own world. Using his bond with Megatron, he quickly scanned over his processor and learned the particular language this was written in, hoping the Decepticon leader didn't feel as though he had been intruded upon.
Unicron still wasn't quite sure what to make of these "Transformers" quite yet. After Primus' lashing out, how could his creations be so…
"Different from me?" a familiar voice asked, startling Unicron. He hadn't expected Primus to get here so soon, let alone for him to mask his own EM signature, making him undetectable.
"Yes. However, your creations certainly share your passion and fire." Unicron said, as his brother sat next to him. Primus' human avatar wasn't too dissimilar from his own, seemingly the same age, height, and size. The only major difference being that Primus just looked so tired.
"Well? You wanted to talk, so what's this about?" Primus asked.
"Your intentions. What are they with this planet? Or these Autobots I have heard about, and how your new Prime leads them in conquering the galaxy?"
Primus could only bow his head in guilt, his brother's words striking home.
"I never intended to be partial in the conflicts of my creations, I just seem to have ended up on the Autobots' side in all of it, and have seen to it that I am no longer affiliated with them. And as for the new Prime you speak of, Optimus Prime… that troubles me deeply. I have not been one with the Well or the Matrix in countless ages."
"What? But I was told that it is your will who becomes Prime via the relic Solus produced."
"Exactly, that is why I am unsure as to how a new Prime has arisen. Unless…"
"Unless what, brother?" Unicron asked, seeing the rare panic in Primus' eyes.
"I fear that in my absence, in my attempt to understand the people from their perspective, I have neglected my duty to protect them, and have allowed a greater evil to rise..." Primus said, abruptly standing to leave.
"It's been so long, brother. Surely this isn't how we should part."
"I know, but some things cannot be put off any longer."
"Where will you go then?"
"The one place I'm needed the most. And, for whatever it's worth," Primus said, turning back one last time. "I am sorry. For everything."
Unicron watched as Primus walked away, and in the blink of an eye, he was gone.
"I… I can't. I won't do it." Optimus pleaded, something he found himself doing too much as of late.
"And why not, my child? Surely you wish for Cybertron and it's people to be safe?"
"But they are civilians! I don't care if they are Decepticon sympathisers, I will not slaughter innocents any longer." he cried out into the blank void he always found himself in when meditating within the Matrix.
"But they are NOT innocents. They disobey you, and in turn, disobey the will of Primus. I am sure the priests at the Primal Basilica would agree."
Optimus could only cower at the rage he was being faced with, on his hands and knees, praying that he would not feel the rage of Primus again. Once was enough a lesson for a hundred lifetimes. But the scolding did not come, and he felt an ethereal hand on his shoulder.
"Forgive me, my Prime. I lost my temper. I should know better than to scare you so."
There was no warmth in his god's words, only the painful, yet miraculously soothing cold he had always known and dealt with. Sometimes other voices came to him, ones he could only assume to be the Primes of the past, but they were always too weak to be heard.
Suddenly, as if he was at the centre of a supernova, the Matrix felt as though it had been set ablaze. The cold hands of who he thought to be Primus were ripped from him, a loving warmth standing between him and the one who had guided him throughout his tenure as Prime.
"YOU!"
"No… NO! It cannot be, you were gone from the Matrix… too weak to show yourself!"
"Leaving the Matrix was my greatest mistake. But puppeteering it, masquerading as ME? That shall be your last!"
An even greater surge of power burst forth from this new presence, the real Primus, his EM field full of warmth, yet also sadness.
"I hereby banish you from the Matrix of Leadership, and the Well of Allsparks. Your treachery is unbecoming of a Prime."
"No… NOOOOO!" the old voice cried out, as they dissipated, only a patch of cold left where they once existed, quickly dissipating as well.
Optimus could only imagine how pathetic he must look, still cowering on the ground in front of Primus, even though deep down he felt that the danger had gone.
"You need not bow to me, my child," Primus said, pulling Optimus into an embrace.
. . . . .
Optimus onlined his optics, gazing out onto the Iacon skyline from the balcony of his chambers in the Primal Palace, his usual spot for meditation. He noticed that the Matrix still hummed quietly in his chest, it's soft blue glow shimmering off his rich purple and blue frame.
Shakilly standing up, he forced himself to walk back inside to his berth, not daring to give into his fatigue and crawl, in the event someone out to get him was watching.
Falling onto the large berth, he pulled the thermo-blanket over him, an eerie sense of dread still enveloping him, as he tried to fall into recharge.
But one question still haunted his mind.
If it wasn't Primus who had been encouraging him to wreak so much havoc and commit such atrocities, then who had?
He was too tired to notice as the cold ran their hands over him once more.
End of Season 1
