Transformers: Salvation

“Well I helped these guys fix the engine.”
He said, gesturing to the pipe.

“Outside of that, nothing else really.”

'while that would solve the * Gulp * problem, It would present a whole new plethora of issues, anyway, I’ve got find the med bay, farewell." He then strides away, moving at a prety good clip for someone so large.

“What broke it?”

“Apparently Wildsong shot it down to crush some 'cons during that raid.”

“That’s my girl.” he said proudly.

“Yeah.”
Broadwing said, having not much else to say.

“Anyway… If you’re looking for her, she is in her messy lab.”

The sentinel speaks in a low voice with a serious tone.

“Only the worthy may cross the threshold. You do not hold the key.”


The rest of Requiem-IX was assisting a cleanup crew with some terrorcon remains. They were keeping a fair distance from the crew members, and not making much of an effort to socialize.


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“How very touching,” Greasemonkey comments on Gronius and Broadwing’s moment. It was difficult to tell if the old cyborg was being serious or sarcastic.

“Truly. If I could, I’d shed a tear. However, if you three can’t be of any more help, I must ask you to stand aside while I keep us from making history in a rather unpleasant way.”

“Hang on, girl,” he whispers, patting the surface of Salvation’s main reactor before transforming to beast mode and clambering back to the transwarp drive connected to it.

“Right. Sorry.”
Broadwing said. He transformed to beast mode and flew up to his nest in the ceiling.

Actaeon keeps an eye on them, while going over to help the cleaning crew.

“I’m not going to cross the threshold; I want to see the door itself and maybe know how I can find the key by looking at the door.” Zepar said to the statue.


“What can I do to assist?” Epsilon asked Greasemonkey.

The cleaning crew was placing the ancient corpses in large, hovering coffins, while others sucked up the liquid Dark Energon on the floor.

Suddenly, the corpse of a Knight that had been split in half jolts to life, purple lights flashing across it’s upper half! It snarls, and swipes a mangled claw at Actaeon.


Wordlessly, the sentinel detaches from the wall and steps aside, revealing the door.

It was small, round, and bulbous, protruding slightly from the wall. It around it was an encircling trim of gold metal, decorated with the sigils of the Thirteen (including, oddly enough, that of Liege Maximo), and below them the following phrase, written in cyberglyphics:

The light of the Allspark shall light even the darkest hours, and thwart the forces of chaos and evil, until comes the day when its children return to its embrace, and all are one

The door itself was divided into fourths. One made of a blue-hued metal, one of a deep red, another of an oxidized-copper green, and one of a dark purple.

Each quarter was adorned with odd diagrams and cyberglyphics, and in the center of the door was a a single, large cyberglyph.

In some contexts, this symbol could be translated as " divine light"


“Nothing right now, I’m afraid,” the chief engineer replies. “Broadwing already helped to repair the coolant pipe, for which I’ll be sure to pay him appropriately, however that was not the only problem vexing us, unfortunately.”

Actaeon unsheathes his energon swords and goes to cut the terrorcon apart.

Zepar cross references the glyph and diagrams to every source he could think of in his mind.

The terrorcon is swiftly cut apart.

Primus,” a startled Shakedown hisses. “Y’know when I shoot a guy, I typically prefer he stay dead. How many holes do we have to put into these guys, for spark’s sake?”


Unlike those on the golden orb, these diagrams likely were modeling something- but what that was was unclear. The mysterious disappearance of the Knights of Cybertron had left a scientific and technological void that modern cybertronian society was still trying to fill, and wouldn’t completely until roughly twenty million years into the future.

Actaeon looks at Shakedown,
“Enough so no limb can move.”
He cuts apart the rest of the terrorcon to assure no more surprise attacks.

Zepar growled, “Why must everything you Knights create be hidden under a seemingly infinite number of riddles and trials?”

“How does one acquire the key to this room?” He asked the sentinel.

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“Wait, you were there the entire time? Wgo even are you?”

“My point,” says Shakedown, gesturing with his right hand.

“…I think. Only folks who got business bein’ so tough to kill are Megatron, Ultra Magnus, and… scrap, I can’t think of a third one. Help me out here, Toss-up?”

“The Dinobots?” the other twin suggests.


"That which you seek, you have already found," the sentinel offers.


Greasemonkey turns and tilts his head, reverting to robot mode.

“I’m Greasemonkey, sir,” he says. “The chief engineer aboard this ship.”

“Greasemonkey?” he said, jumping of the pipe, transforming mid-air and landing in front of him. He looked ar Greasemonkey from his mouthplate to the tips of his boots, till rusing his hand. “Gronius.”