Author's Note:
I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG.
I have literally had the worst writer's block for this story, and for some reason, this chapter was being the BIGGEST butt to write! Nightstalker and Nightfall just wouldn't cooperate. XD And too boot, it's a short chapter. T.T You've got NO IDEA how many times I wrote and rewrote this chapter because I wasn't satisfied with it because I KNEW I could write better than what was coming out on the page. I'm still only so-so about the chapter, but I think this is the best it's going to get.
I decided to get the major movie plot points done first and focus on other things in the next chapter. Next chapter should be a lot more interesting, and I can promise that there will be some sweet revenge. ^.^
In conclusion, Nightstalker decided that she would rather fly than ride on a dragon.
First, the obvious, she loved flying. But no one had prepared her for her butt aching so much from just sitting and holding on to Predaking as he soared over Cybertron. Plus, it wasn't all that smooth of a ride. He had to pump his wings to keep his flight. And it took longer. He wasn't as fast as a jet.
In all, her spark began to ache more for Ratchet, not only to fix her wing, but also to see her family in general. How was one supposed to deal with homesickness?
Nightstalker released a shrill shriek when Predaking abruptly angled down and dove to the ground. Grabbing on to his back and hanging on, she felt his bulk tense and reel sharply up at the last second, and his transformation changed him back into his bipedal mode. Nightstalker plopped on his massive shoulders with a breathless squeak.
Trying to situate herself a touch more comfortably, Nightstalker started to ask, "What are we—" and then bit her glossia and grabbed on to him again when he bent down, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He touched the ground, and Nightstalker's orange optics widened at the deep claw marks etched into Cybertron's hide.
"Tracks," he told her. "The Autobot spoke the truth!"
Nightstalker wrinkled her nose, still irritated that he had seen them and chased them off. "Of course he did. Bumblebee doesn't lie."
"And that means . . . other Predacons DO exist. But it seems they took flight here."
Looking about, Nightstalker saw what he was looking at—the markings ended. He was right. She supposed he would be, part dragon and all. He knew how to track, not her.
She watched his mouth press from the dead end. "Locating my brethren will be a futile endeavor . . ." His optics sharpened. "Unless I allow them to locate ME."
Nightstalker yelped again when he transformed, and immediately heat collected and pooled between her legs. Nightstalker shrieked and ducked, covering her helm as a searing line of flames were jettisoned into the dark sky as a stark beacon.
Well. So he definitely respected her enough NOT to kill her, but he clearly was displaying that he wasn't taking orders or allowing her to make decisions. Nightstalker huffed an annoyed vent from her systems. So, he was having her along, but as of now, she was just getting toted around like a toy.
When the stream of fire ceased, she rapped on his shoulder. "Hey, Predaking?" She received a pensive rumble in response, and the spines on the back of his head flexed as he turned his head just enough to acknowledge that she existed. "I'm glad you're going to be reunited with your own kind and have some family for yourself. But can you tell me why you're kidnapping me along for the ride?"
The spines flexed and relaxed again, as if the question was probing. Finally, he transformed once more, sending her arms flailing for a clutch-hold. He turned his face to her, a brow raising. "You are flightless. To leave you without protection would be to leave you for dead."
Nightstalker blinked. Then, she remembered Jack telling her about a bird he had found—he had nursed it back to health. That was right. Wingless animals would perish in the wild. She had to stifle a laugh. A desolate Cybertron wasn't exactly "the wild" but he was treating her as if she was a Predacon.
Her processor stalled. He was treating her . . . like she was one of his own. More like a disabled, child-like underling since he wasn't taking anything she said into account . . . but one of his, nonetheless.
Clearing her vocalizer, Nightstalker scooted back on his shoulder so he didn't have to strain so hard to see her. The large, curved pauldron sank a little with her weight, but only marginally. More than ever, Nightstalker felt insignificantly small, and her wings fluttered.
"Surely that can't be the only reason," she said. She quirked a brow and crossed her arms. "You DID leave me at one point, perfectly crippled before."
She watched his features flatten in irritation that she was pulling it up again. He turned his face away and looked up at the sky for anyone that could possibly show up and save him from the conversation. None coming, she heard nearly every vent in him open up to release a heated puff of air.
"You . . . impressed me. I threatened you with death, and you . . ." He looked back at her, and a servo almost as large as her hovered above her head. "Tiny. Crippled. INSENSIBLY small. You reacted toward me without fear and challenged me to think. Only one person has challenged me to think, that believed I was more than just an animal to do their bidding." She witnessed his brows cinch at the thought. "You also claim you care about me, and as of yet, I have no reason not to believe it. You may not have my trust, but certainly my respect, for your spark," and he fisted his servo and gave a solid hit to his own chassis, "is strong."
Nightstalker tried her best not to blush, but she felt heat fill her cheeks anyways. One of the most dangerous mechs on Cybertron . . . was impressed with her. Embarrassed and beyond knowing what to do anymore, she stuttered, "W-Well, um . . . Yeah—Okay. Thank you? I um . . ."
Predaking stared at her. "I will bring you back to your own family." He paused. "I was . . . excited to meet some of my own."
She felt herself smile immediately. "I can imagine," she said, tickled pink that he was enthusiastic about something. She could honestly imagine the excitement he was feeling. After having lost his brothers and now he found out some were alive? Nightstalker felt her lips curl. Yeah, she could imagine that.
Lithely, Nightstalker slid from his shoulder and landed on her peds. "Where will you all go?" she asked him.
He squatted down to her height obligingly so he didn't tower over her. Even crouched down, he was massive. "I do not know." He looked over the horizon. "Perhaps the peaks in the distance. Far enough for solitude."
Nightstalker looked, and her optics widened. She snapped. "I know that place. They're the . . . the Manganese Mountains. I used to fly over those."
His optics lit up. "You did?"
Nightstalker grinned and nodded. "Yeah, I did! That was back when I was a Decepticon, but I used to do all sorts of tricks up there. The drafts were hard to use since the wind blew through the mountains and not so much over it. I used to love it out there."
Predaking paused. "What made you choose the Autobots over the Decepticons?"
She looked up at him, and following his gaze, her optics landed on the Autobot symbol on her chassis. "Ah, well . . . I used to be a torturer." For some reason, the words came out more easily than they ever had. She took heart in that. "And I was in the middle of my work on an Autobot when . . . I don't know, something just changed." She smiled softly. "And if you want to know the real irony, that mech I was torturing eventually became my mate."
Predaking gave a grunt of approval. "Cliffjumper," he stated. "Then you both must have come a long way."
She crossed her arms, holding both elbows. Her cheeks brightened as she actually thought about all they had gone through. "You have no idea, Predaking."
A soft silence settled between them. With it, Predaking stood, looking to the sky again. Nightstalker chafed her arms and walked quietly away, suddenly missing Cliffjumper so much it hurt. She closed her optics and took a deep breath, letting her wings relax and dip low.
"Nightstalker."
Her wings snapped upright and she turned quickly, almost thinking the Predacons had come, but Predaking was looking at her. He paused. "The Manganese Mountains . . . After we part our ways, will I see you fly over them again?"
The edge of her lip curled up. "I'm sure I can manage it," she promised. He seemed pleased, and he nodded his helm to her and wandered a little farther, head craned to the sky in anticipation of his coming brothers.
Sighing and letting her wings drop again, Nightstalker walked off to the side, seeing evidence of a struggle. What had happened? Did they fight? Her servo touched a large slab of wall that had fallen. She could see the empty spot above. A scorch mark scarred the area across from her.
Then, she heard a faint engine in the distance.
"The beacon . . . it worked!"
Nightstalker whirled around to see Predaking farther ahead, and the engine noise grew to a sharp pitch before the large jet transformed.
She felt her energon drain from her features. Her peds welded to the ground in abject terror, and she felt her wings sag limply.
Predaking's face immediately swapped from one of excitement to one of anger. "Megatron?"
He stood to his full height, upgraded, massive, as large as Predaking. Nightstalker felt her knees wobble. What had he done to himself? Surely he wouldn't have wasted his time hunting them down . . . surely not . . .
"Warrior!" Nightstalker flinched and covered her mouth so a scream wouldn't slip out. She ducked behind the slabs, trembling. He hadn't seen her. He hadn't seen her, he didn't know she was here. "I call upon you to serve your master!"
Her processor lit up as she realized something was wrong. Turning on her knees and peeking over her hiding place, she gazed at Megatron. Was he insane? He had to be. Predaking was NEVER going to serve him again.
True to her thoughts, Predaking's face warped with a hideous sneer of fury. "In the name of the mighty legions of Predacons who preceded me, I shall never again yield to your charge. But I will heed your previous advice and face my true enemy—AS A BEAST!"
Nightstalker's optics popped when Predaking transformed and opened his maw, releasing a powerful stream of flames at Megatron, literally scorching the warlord's new frame. Megatron roared out in anger, voice modulated and distorted unlike she had ever heard it before.
Predaking roared and charged. Nightstalker watched as Megatron's frame, glowing from the heat, was snatched up in the dragon's maw. He fought for a second, like she knew he would, but Predaking blasted him away with a fireball. She swallowed. She knew there was only going to be one survivor, and as much as she knew she would rather it be Predaking, she couldn't help but hope that both would leave alive.
She shook her head. What had Ratchet called it? Stockholm? She didn't even know if it was right to call it that at this point anymore . . .
Before she could contemplate it longer, she had to slap her servos over her mouth to suppress a cry when she saw, from his hands, a feat like magic. Around him, the sinister, poisonous glow of Dark Energon heightened and glittered as it formed around his arm like a massive, spiked canon. She flinched and ducked into her hiding spot when he blasted Predaking. She shook.
Dark Energon? What was he thinking! He would never go back to the stuff! Not after what it had done to his ship, not after knowing Unicron could tamper with his processor. She knew Megatron, and if there was one thing she knew, it was that he would NEVER let anyone into his processor. He would despise it. WHY would he ever go back to it? What sort of desperation could have possibly pushed him that far?
Among the sounds of battle, Nightstalker froze when she heard Predaking give a low, pained whine. Her body stiffened when she heard a thunderous crash, and then silence.
"Now," and Nightstalker popped back up, seeing Megatron looming over Predaking. "Let us learn more of these mighty legions of which you spoke."
She shrank when he placed his servo on top of Predaking's unconscious head. He wasn't killing him? That was not like Megatron. He delighted in battle and savored the kill. Come to think of it, he didn't even speak like that . . .
Dark energon.
Unicron could control his . . . MIND . . .
She almost gasped. She felt it lodge in the back of her throat as she forcibly swallowed it down, and she ducked into hiding again. Unicron. Oh Primus, Unicron. Had he been possessed by Unicron? What did Unicron want? HOW had that even HAPPENED? Her spark sputtered nervously in her chassis as she prayed to Primus very, VERY hard for Unicron not to notice her.
"Ah . . ." She felt a sickened shudder shake her frame. "Now I know what I require to tear this world asunder!"
A transformation sounded, and Nightstalker winced when his engines kicked hard and sent him flying off into the sky. For several breathless moments, Nightstalker waited in the silence, spark hammering in her chassis, and when Predaking didn't stir, she leapt out of her hiding spot.
"Predaking!" He lay in his dragon form, completely knocked out. She ran to his side and knelt at his helm. "Predaking! Predaking, come on, wake up!" She shook him. "Dark energon reanimates the dead! He's going to desecrate the burial ground for the Predacons!" She shook him again. "Pred—!"
Swallowing mid shout, she caught sight of his damaged helm. It was caved in, partially cracked, and energon was slowly leaking from it. Seeing that he wasn't gaining his consciousness anytime soon, she set to work on doctoring him up as well as she could.
He had to wake up soon, or there was no telling what would happen to them.
Never mind that Unicron was rising. Never mind that he had missed out on all the action for dead end rescue missions with the Protectobots. Never mind that Unicron had possessed Megatron's body for the job—actually, he minded that. It gave him a second chance at offlining the warlord himself.
A servo clapped his shoulder. "Hey," Groove said. "Cheer up. We'll find her."
"We've been over the entirety of Cybertron!" Cliffjumper snapped. He flung out a servo towards the remains of Nova Cronum. "We've been over Earth and Cybertron, we've tried everything!" Swallowing a strangled breath in the effort to calm himself, Cliffjumper pressed his shaking servos to his helm.
"Let's not give up hope yet," Hot Spot said, herding his team into the ship. "We know she's still alive. That, at least, is something Knockout is useful for. If she was planning on surviving, she'd clearly have to be on the move. We could have missed her at any point and time."
Cliffjumper hissed in annoyance. "Whatever makes you feel better," he muttered. He squeezed his optics shut. He shook his head and let his shoulders fall. "Sorry. That was uncalled for." His optics scoured over Cybertron's surface again in the attempt to hopefully see her silhouette, but he couldn't help his fading hope.
"Hey, Hot Spot, we've got trouble."
The leader looked up to Streetwise. "Trouble? What kind?"
Streetwise stood on the slope into the ship. "The undead kind," he said grimly. "Bumblebee wants us back at the NEMESIS stat. Unicron's rising, and he's leading an army of undead Predacons. How's that for insane, yeah?"
"It's gonna be a fun battle," Blades said with a grin. "Let's hurry up and get there, already. They need all the help they can get."
Hot Spot nodded curtly. "Let's load up." He took Cliffjumper's shoulder again, and he squeezed it. "Hey. No better way to let out some stress and frustration than to kill something, right?"
Cliffjumper forced a nod. "Might as well. Kill Unicron, and get back to more important things, right?"
When he gave Hot Spot a half smirk, the mech laughed, clapped his shoulder again and pushed him into the ship. "Now you're talking! Groove, get this ship off the ground and rendezvous at the NEMESIS!"
Nightstalker couldn't get her mind off Cliffjumper.
It seemed that, knowing that Unicron was at large and such a vivid threat made her want to see Cliffjumper so badly it hurt. She knew the dire situation last time Unicron had awakened, and she wanted to see him, if just to make sure that if she were actually living her last moments, she would be able to spend them in the arms of a loved one.
She hunched over Predaking's back as he flew them directly back to the graveyard they had left. Primus she missed him so much . . .
Why didn't you listen to him, Nightstalker? You knew as well as he did you loved each other, you were just a coward . . .
Oh Cliff, I should have bonded with you . . .
It would have solved all of their issues. The bots would have been able to find her because Cliffjumper would have been able to speak with her through the bond, she wouldn't have been homesick, she wouldn't have to deal with yearning for him. She thunked her helm on Predaking's back. Stupid, STUPID. She had been afraid for too long in her lifetime.
Her knees tightened on Predaking's back when he began to coast down, and she lifted her helm to see the two mechs below. They seemed to be the only ones left in the barren land that had been strip-mined of all bones.
This time, when he transformed, Nightstalker was ready and landed on his shoulder. He completely bypassed the others at first, distressed, but Nightstalker glanced over her shoulder, seeing their optics narrow and faces wrinkle up.
"The burial ground . . . desecrated! Strip mined of all that remained of our ancestors!"
One of the other Predacons snickered. "You should have been here to see them rise and shine!"
Predaking turned, hesitant to show any hope. "They . . . live?"
"If you call being undead living," the second bit out.
Nightstalker fluttered her wings nervously. That wasn't just an army, that was an entire RACE of skeletons enslaved to Unicron's bidding. What was he doing with them? Hellfire and brimstone, for sure!
"Dark magic!" Predaking barked. "Perpetrated by the demon who lives in Megatron's skin!"
He reeled back defensively, wings tensing. "Just be glad you're alive so the demon can't pull YOUR strings!"
"Do you not comprehend the scope of this tragedy? We three are proof that our mighty race might once again have flourished. Their remains must be reclaimed, if for no other reason than to be properly put back to rest."
The first one hissed when Predaking brushed by them. "And who made you boss?"
Predaking halted and stiffened. "I am not your boss . . ." He whirled, optics flashing dangerously. "I am you're KING!"
Nightstalker heard more than saw Predaking's claws open aggressively. Jumping from his shoulder quickly, Nightstalker took cover from the brawl about to break out. It was a battle for dominance of the pack. How fitting.
And, not to her surprise at all, Predaking put the smack down on them both. She had been briefly worried since it was two on one, but he pinned both Predacons beneath him and forced them to yield. Shortly after—and even though her spark jumped—Shockwave, battered and beaten, showed up to inform them all of what was REALLY going on. Unicron, with an army of undead Predacons, was hellbent on destroying the core of Cybertron itself.
Where did that leave Nightstalker?
Riding Predaking into battle, apparently; swooping in like heroes because clearly the NEMESIS was taking a beating. Nightstalker clutched Predaking's back, spark plummeting to her stomach when she watched the NEMESIS get lambasted hard enough that the rear engines blew. The ship tipped and careened downwards. It crashed thunderously to the ground, screeching and wailing with tension along Cybertron's surface before it skidded to a halt just beside the mouth of the Well of All Sparks.
Predaking's bulk shifted, and she leaned down when he slanted his wings back, gaining speed as they sought to align with the Autobots that had been shot down. Hitching her legs up and placing her peds on Predaking's neck, Nightstalker jumped as Predaking transformed and landed heavily on the ground. She plopped on his shoulder pauldron.
"Nightstalker!"
She smiled wide, spark exploding with happiness. "Bumblebee!"
She slid off of Predaking and directly into his arms. With a laugh, she hugged him tightly as he quite literally crushed her into his chassis. In the midst of it, her processor caught up with her audios. As he put her down, Nightstalker gaped, "Bumblebee—your VOICE—!"
Before anything more could be said, she was snatched up in familiar arms. A pair of lips crushed down on hers, and a sound Nightstalker couldn't place emitted from her vocalizer. She grabbed his chassis for stability, and then he embraced her tightly, tucking her helm to his shoulder. Her lips tingled after the rough kiss.
"Primus alive, Nightstalker, I was so worried about you. You beautiful, beautiful strong femme, Primus I'm so proud of you . . ."
Nightstalker took a deep breath of his scent, spark humming and warming at his affections. Finally, she pushed away, saying, "I'm afraid we've got bigger worries, Cliff."
They looked back across Cybertron's surface, and ice chilled in Nightstalker's circuits at the horizon filled with so many undead Predacons. Cliffjumper squeezed her hand, and Nightstalker looked back at him. He grinned at her.
"Eh, doesn't look too bad. I think we can take them."
Nightstalker smiled gently, comforted by his bravado, pointless as it seemed. She squeezed back, spark lodging with adrenaline somewhere in her throat.
"I'm sure we can."
"Well, here we are! Hey, and check out Ugly down there!"
Nightfall looked out the windshield of the ship as Wheeljack brought them down into Cybertron's orbit. Unicron, in possession of Megatron's body, glared directly up at them. "But that doesn't make sense," Nightfall muttered. "What's he doing? Surely he's got something trying to kill Primus! I don't know, undead zombies! Those usually accompany the Chaos Bringer!"
Craning his head back for the nth time, Nightfall looked toward the All Spark container. "All right, clearly I didn't think this through," he started. "But we've gotta keep the All Spark as far away from Unicron as possible or else he's gonna destroy it. All right?"
"Just say the word, Chief," Wheeljack told him, banking around.
"I'm going to go down and head him off. Wheeljack, you take this ship and get as far away from Cybertron as you can."
Opening the back hatch and leaping out, Nightfall transformed and jetted down, wondering what the hell he was getting himself into. Heading straight towards Megatron's warped body, Nightfall watched as in his hand, Dark Energon formed like magic into a deadly lance. Whipping into a barrel roll to dodge it, when he heard an explosion behind him, Nightfall realized belatedly that he hadn't been aiming for him at all. The crash of Ultra Magnus' ship was audible as Nightfall transformed and kicked Unicron in the face.
"Megatron!" He ducked beneath his powerful swings, playing more of a cat and mouse game with Unicron. Unfortunately, Nightfall was the mouse. "Okay, so I know you and I have our disagreements, but you've overcome Unicron's control before, so you can do it again!" He slashed his sword out and cut the warlord's knuckles as Unicron barreled down upon him. "Unless, you know, you're really dead!" Which . . . wouldn't be horrible . . .
Unicron snarled, a lip curling up. "Megatron may hear you, but he cannot help you!" Nightfall squawked and scurried between his spread legs when a massive hand reached down to snatch him up. "For he is enduring eternal suffering!"
Now, eternal suffering for Megatron, that was one thing Nightfall was perfectly fine with. It just kinda so happened that Unicron was also trying to make that a thing for everyone else. A massive fist finally pummeled the young Prime into the surface of Cybertron. Nightfall felt his back and head crack to the ground and his chassis cave in to dominant knuckles. Every breath of air gusted from his systems.
And, his aft was saved again by none other than his father. Dreadwing plowed into the Chaos Bringer shoulder first and sent the mech collapsing back on the ground. Unicron came back to his peds quickly, and before he could bring his Dark Energon weapon down on Dreadwing, the Polarity Gauntlet stopped him cold. Unicron snarled and strained against the mechanism to no avail.
"Nightfall!" Groaning and springing back to his peds, he heard Bumblebee shout out, "Go! Save the All Spark!"
"On it!" Nightfall hollered back. He transformed and flew across Cybertron again to the site of the wreck, inwardly yelling at the top of his lungs. What was he SUPPOSED to do to save the All Spark? His best bet had been getting it off Cybertron and away from Unicron, but with Magnus' ship busted, that was completely out of the question. Not with Unicron's swarm of undead Predacons heading directly to the core of Cybertron—that was an interesting development Dreadwing communicated to him through spark. He had to destroy Unicron—NOW. Cybertron wouldn't survive otherwise.
Nightfall landed where Bulkhead and Arcee were helping Wheeljack from the wreckages. The white mech jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "So how we gonna get that thing to safety?"
"The frag if I know!" Nightfall exploded. "The All Spark is the least of our problems with undead Predacons about to kill the core of Cybertron! I've gotta destroy Unicron somehow! What do I do, just declare the Matrix to light our darkest hour?"
"You can't destroy Unicron," Arcee snapped. "He's the core of Earth! You kill him, and you kill Earth and every living thing on it!"
Nightfall threw his servos up. "Well, clearly his life force is here now! So if I can't kill him, what am I supposed to do?"
"Contain him," Arcee stressed, "like Optimus did before!"
Before he could stop it, a sarcastic laugh jumped from Nightfall's mouth. "Contain him? How? It's not like I can just put him in a jar on a shelf!" Stopping short, Nightfall's optics jumped to the All Spark sequestered in its container. He stared.
"Oh frag me flying."
Rushing to the relic that was holding nothing but pure energy, Nightfall jumped up on top of it. "Nightfall!" he heard Arcee cry. "What are you doing?"
"I'm not entirely sure!" he admitted to her, but he opened his chassis. There was only one place to put all that energy, and it had to be in another relic of the Primes. And, well . . . the only one he had on hand was the Matrix sitting snug in his chassis. Nightfall laughed to himself, a touch of hysterics coloring his voice. "Oh, wouldn't it be funny if this killed me or something . . ." he muttered under his breath, wondering just what the side effects would be. Before he could cop out of his own idea, Nightfall opened up the All Spark container.
Like a magnet, the energies rushed into his chassis. Nightfall's wings snapped up and his optics briefly filled with white static at the force filling the Matrix. He felt his spark stuttering as it tried to regulate its steady beat before the energies finally swirled inside the Matrix. His chassis clanged shut and the empty container shut as well.
Feeling a bit dizzy, Nightfall slid off the jar he had acquired for Unicron, bracing himself on the side of it. Arcee stared at him in something akin to horror, and she rasped, "Fli-Ni . . . What did you do?"
He rubbed his brow. "I, um, I'm not entirely sure, and I'm not going to worry about it yet." He jerked to attention seeing Megatron's possessed-by-Unicron body flying directly towards him. "First thing first," and he grabbed the reliquary of the Primes, intending on dragging it even if it was bigger than him, "I've got to keep this thing away from him!"
In response to his words, the three Autobots with him open fired on the incoming Chaos Bringer. Nightfall dragged the container, cursing how big it was and how nothing seemed to be made for a small Prime. He heard violent crashing and cries that came distinctly from Bulkhead, Wheeljack, and Arcee. He whirled around, drawing his shield and sword as Unicron approached.
"Hand over the All Spark!" Unicron snarled at him, purple optics blazing down on him. Deadly weapons of Dark Energon formed on his servos.
Nightfall dug his peds in. "If you think I'm just gonna hand it over without a fight, you've got it all wrong!"
Nightfall launched himself at the Chaos Bringer with a lot more bravado than actually bravery. He traded blows with the mech for only a short amount of time before he was viciously backhanded and went crashing into the side of Magnus' ship. He groaned, lifting his head as Unicron grabbed the empty relic.
His obsession blinded him. "I shall devour your All Spark whole!" The lid swiveled open, revealing its lack of contents. "What? A trick!"
Nightfall cracked a grin when Unicron groaned and howled in fury. He dropped the relic, and from Megatron's body, a repulsive purple spirit was drawn painfully from his chassis. It rose up, swirling in a tempest of hate as the relic sucked his energies into the container, locking him inside. Megatron collapsed flat on his face, knocked out briefly by the exorcism.
Standing up, Nightfall walked over to the container. Unicron's energy writhed on the inside, and he raged inside without a way to get out.
Nightfall grinned with delight.
"That was rather brilliant! If I do say so myself."