Alpha Trion


The High Council summons me, once more.

They are curious again about the human femme, as they should be. As a previous Prime I am aware of the Shield's innermost energy, as it is a part of the Matrix, which has synched itself to me from my time bearing it. I have found that the Matrix is a trustworthy source of strength and knowledge, as it is also a strong giver of advice, for the knowledge stored within it transfers from one Prime to the next throughout its travels.

I told them what they wanted to know about her. I also told them all I know of this planet called Earth, which I have seen before in the Covenant and history logs from the Hall of Records. I told them she is strong and good, and that is wise, and that Optimus Prime—as well as the living Matrix—trusts her, deeply. They were satisfied with this, and ordered me to oversee a task which I am most unpleased with. This task has been forgotten; erased by time. One thing a historian does not do is reopen time's doors when they have closed, and this I fear is exactly what the Council is bidding me do. A task which I cannot bring myself to say quite yet, for I am still cemented in denial of such a subject that I refuse to speak it forth from my mouth.

The Council, forced from the face of Cybertron's beautiful Iacon and deep into the miles of waste-land below her, have lost their vision of Iacon. They have lost their vision of hope, with their talks of annihilation and christening a new Prime. They forget that what makes a Prime strong is not just the Matrix but his honor and his strength, and his sense for life and recognizing its potential. They forget that a Prime sees hope even when there isn't hope—even when he has to draw his hope from his Countess. The Council has lost this vision of hope, in their asking me to do what they have.

The Shield has power. So much power that it holds the potential to move galaxies with a single blow. It has the power to shake earth, to change souls, to rob life. This power has been transfixed into an organic understanding, into an organic outlook of life and freedom and hope. Perhaps this is a good thing, but not knowing the way of organics I cannot say. This power has been harnessed by one Optimus Prime, creating out of nothing the ability to equalize two very separate worlds. The Matrix heard his statement, his profession of love for this world that is not his own. I do not believe he has forgotten us, but I do believe he has lost sight of his original mission: to restore equality between Cybertronians.

For that matter the creators are waiting. Waiting for him to slip up so the world may see the Optimus Prime is really no Prime at all, but that he is indeed just another Cybertronian who could speak eloquently. They have called him forth, through the doings of one bounty hunter Lockdown who this planet fears in trembling chassis. The time will come for him to choose between us and them, and I dishearteningly admit I know not which he will choose at this moment.

All is not lost. Hope is on the horizon of Cybertron, as Shockwave has stopped taking prisoners into his "tower". He has come to see me more than once, warning me of the coming future, warning me that his time on earth taught him much. They will be coming, he said, and if you are not careful they will overrun us, and our High Council, just as they have overrun law in their own world. I know not if this is true, but I know that Shockwave talks much more than any other mech I know, and that he is a mech of knowledge and logic. Perhaps I am to examine the logic of the situation.

My logic is this: the human femme, Mira as Optimus called her, will be seeing us soon. How, I am not sure, but as I am not meant to be sure now, I won't speculate another minute; for now the High Council has called me back into the depths of Cybertron to set forth their commissioning of a burden I wish not to carry.

A burden, I am afraid, that will change history.