Transformers: The Warning After - Issue #1

Panel One:
(Flashback) A close-up of a robotic hand, holding up a small hologram-emitter. The emitter shows a sleek Cybertronian vehicle. In the background, we can see the day-to-day goings on of a street on Cybertron.

Euramis (OS): Would you quit looking at that. You’re gonna wear the thing out.

Veer (OS): I can’t help it -- it’s beautiful!

Panel Two:
(Flashback) An angle from in front of Veer and Euramis (in G1-scale bodies) as they walk through a Cybertronian street. Veer is smiling broadly as he continues to look at the emitter, which now shows a robot body design. Euramis has a look of great trepidation on his face.

Euramis: Maybe they can dial down your vanity while you’re in there.

Veer: And maybe they can dial up your courage. I’ve never seen you so pale.

Panel Three:
(Flashback) An angle from behind the two figures as they walk. They look like giants compared to everyone else walking around, who are in small Proto-Matter bodies. The city around them shows signs of being rebuilt. There are cranes dotting the skyline.

Euramis: Under that smile you’re as nervous as I am.

Veer: Not. One. Bit.
Link Panel: Look around. We’re just about the last two left. It’s time we joined our fellow Maximals.

Panel Four:
(Flashback)Two small Maximal speeders dart between the giant pair. Euramis nearly loses his balance.

Euramis: Hey!

Maximal Speeder: Watch it, relic!

Panel Five:
(Flashback) Euramis regains his balance as Veer puts an arm around his shoulder.

Euramis: It’s not so much look around as look down.

Veer: That’ll be you this afternoon -- weaving in and out of the legs of outdated Autobots.

Panel Six:
(Flashback) An angle from behind the two figures again as they stand in front of an imposing building. It is the MATRX (Maximal Activation Transference and Reformatting Exchange) facility. Veer still has his arm around the shoulder of his friend.

Panel One:
An extreme close-up of the eyes of Veer, which are wide open in alarm as he wakes from his dream. Veer is in relative darkness apart from beams of flickering yellow light shining on the right side of his face.

Dialogue Panel: Optimistic is never something I’ve been accused of being. Yes, I chose to view the world through gloom-filled lenses, but that doesn’t mean I was necessarily fearful of death -- just expectant.

Panel Two:
We are in Veer’s small residence/apartment. He is sitting on the floor at the foot of his bed. On the back wall is a large window, but its shutter is closed. Sneaking through the cracks in the shutter are beams of yellow light. Veer is now in a Proto-Matter body. Apart from the light coming through the shutter, the room is in complete darkness.

Dialogue Panel: With the dark inevitability of war hanging over your head, it’s sometimes hard to see the positives, so in that respect, I could be considered a realist. But beyond all my wildest of reckonings, I am still alive. I survived the war.

Panel Three:
Veer shields his eyes as he stands at the window as the shutters raise. Light streams into the darkened room.

Dialogue Panel: That astounding turn of events has brought with it a new-found sense of positivity.

Panel Four:
An angle looking over the top of Veer’s head as he looks out the window. The skyline of the newly reconstructed Iacon stretches out into the distance. It is night-time. The tall building opposite has flames pouring from one floor, roughly on the same level as Veer’s. There are two helicopter bots trying to fight the flames by squirting water on them.

Dialogue Panel: It’s perhaps because of my remaining pessimism that I find myself writing this -- to alert others of the dangers looming in the future.

Panel Five:
Veers turns from the window and hammers the switch to close the shutters. Light from the fire continues to pour into the room as the shutters close. Veer puts his head in one hand.

Dialogue Panel: For the first time, I can see the possibilities for Cybertron’s new beginning and I don’t want to have to watch them slip away.

Panel Six:
A small panel of complete blackness.

Dialogue Panel: This is the warning after.

Panel One:
Maximal Councillor Trojus stands on the rooftop of a building at night. He has his back to the reader. He is looking out into the distance where we can see the same building still on fire. A voice comes from behind Trojus.

Freon (OS): By Primus... I hope no one was hurt.

Panel Two:
An angle from in front of Trojus. Freon walks up behind Trojus. Trojus’ focus remains on the burning building.

Trojus: Is that actual concern, Freon?

Freon: Believe it or not, I do have a spark, Trojus.

Trojus (2): But its warmth only goes so far.

Panel Three:
An angle from beside the two figures. Trojus has a stern look on his face, whereas Freon has a pained expression.

Freon: Wasn’t this all supposed to be getting easier?

Trojus: “The war is over. Now the hard part begins.”
Link Panel: The Golden Age didn’t spring up overnight, and this current era of prosperity will be the same. We just have to keep working at it.

Freon (2): Not ready to call this a new Golden Age?

Trojus (2): I know how the last one ended, and bots in positions similar to ours didn’t have a good time of it.

Panel Four:
A voice draws the attention of both Trojus and Freon from the building which is now showing a lot of smoke, but no more flames.

Twister (OS): Councillors.

Trojus: Councillor Twister.

Panel One:
Twister comes to stand beside his fellow Councillors and stare out at the smouldering building.

Freon: Predacons.

Trojus: We don’t know that.

Panel Two:
A Maximal with a helicopter alt-mode transforms and lands inside the apartment that had been on fire.

Dialogue (Twister): With the already heightened security, it’s a worrying occurrence nonetheless. I pray it’s naught but an accident.

Dialogue (Freon): Unbelievable.

Dialogue (Twister (2)): Councillor, the amendment has passed, and as of tomorrow will come into effect. You and your like-minded thinkers had your say, but after a century of peaceful coexistence and partnership-

Panel Three:
The Maximal rescuer surveys the blackened scene with a flashlight. Lying on the floor is the charred robotic body of the triple-changer, Springer.

Dialogue (Freon): Peaceful? Peaceful?! It wasn’t all that long ago that one of our number got blown to hell by a Predacon. If that’s your idea of peaceful...

Dialogue (Trojus): You must miss Bulwark greatly. The two of you clearly had a lot in common.

Panel Four:
Trojus and Twister look skyward, but Freon looks at his two fellow Councillors.

Freon: He was mad, but at least he knew where the Predacons belonged.

Trojus: Almost as mad as the one that championed this crazy idea after his death.

Twister: A touch of the familiar to an otherwise unfamiliar sky.

Panel One:
An angle from behind the three figures, looking upwards into the sky. There is a moon in Cybertron’s orbit.

Trojus: More than a few Predacon sparks skipped a pulse when Bulwark first suggested it, thinking it’d be used as some kind of prison.

Freon: That, I’d have voted for.

Panel Two:
Twister looks skyward with a small smile.

Twister: It was an opportunity to engage with the Predacons that I could not -- would not -- allow to be missed. Their efforts in helping rein in the wayward planetoid were invaluable. I believe it will give those involved a tremendous sense of achievement when it’s finally brought into a secure orbit.

Panel Three:
Trojus and Freon both look at Twister. One with admiration, the other with contempt. The sky is lightening as the sun is almost about to rise on the horizon.

Twister: An ever-present reminder of what cooperation between our two factions can achieve. A perfect symbol of unity.

Trojus: Well said.

Freon: It’s probably part of his speech.

Panel Four:
A close-up of the chest of a dead Predacon whose body is heavily damaged. We know it’s a Predacon because he has a tattered Predacon logo on his chest.

Dialogue (Freon): But at the end of the day, it’s still just a hunk of rock.

Dialogue (Twister): As was Cybertron once.

Panel Five:
The ‘camera’ zooms out from the previous panel revealing a figure staggering down a Cybertronian street in the cold light before dawn. He is heavily damaged but still functional. He is dragging the tattered body of the dead Predacon along the ground. One leg torn in half. An entire arm missing. The figure is dragging the body by cables coming out of the dead Predacon’s arm socket.

Dialogue (Twister): It’s the future we’re headed for, Freon -- not the past.

Panel One:
Rodimus walks swiftly down a corridor inside Maximal Security HQ. He wears an expression of anger that doesn’t come close to doing justice to the real fire burning inside him. Binder, a Maximal analyst, tries to keep pace with him.

Rodimus: Who is he?

Binder: We have no idea.

Rodimus (2): That’s impossible.

Panel Two:
Binder refers to a data-pad as Rodimus continues to barrel through a hallway.

Binder: The body isn’t on record, it’s devoid of any allegiance programming and he’s refusing to answer any questions.
Link Panel: He’s a walking, talking blank -- well, walking, anyway.

Rodimus: For now.

Panel Three:
Rodimus and Binder emerge into the central holding point for the facility. In the middle of the room is a large, transparent cell, in which sits the figure previously seen dragging the dead Predacon through the street. He is still showing all his signs of damage. He sits at a table in the cell, opposite an empty chair.

Binder: What are you going to do?

Rodimus: I’m going to forcibly and repeatedly place his skull against the wall until he starts to talk.

Panel Four:
Rodimus begins to type a code into the cell’s door.

Binder: But-

Rodimus: I don’t want to hear it, Binder.

Panel Five:
The door opens and Rodimus stands in the doorway. The figure doesn't look at Rodimus.

Mystery Figure: Close the door, please.

Panel Six:
Rodimus hurls the door back along its track, slamming it shut. Binder, on the outside, is startled at the ferocity.

SFX: Shhhhhh-kn

Mystery Figure: Thank you.

Panel One:
Rodimus comes to stand opposite the figure, who still doesn't make eye contact.

Mystery Figure: Tough day at the office, Commander?

Panel Two:
Rodimus delivers a heavy blow to the face of the figure, whose head is thrown sideways, but otherwise unaffected by the punch.

SFX: KRM

Panel Three:
The figure calmly returns to its prior position, as if nothing had happened.

Mystery Figure: I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.

Panel Four:
Rodimus leans over the table, glaring at the mystery figure.

Rodimus: I’ve killed the odd Pred in my time, but nowadays we’ve got this little thing going on called peace, so when a member of the Predacon Alliance turns up dead, you can understand my frustration.
Link Panel: Why did you kill him?

Panel Five:
The figure politely gestures to the empty chair on the opposite side of the table.

Mystery Figure: I didn’t. Now sit down before you’re made to look a fool in front of your officers.

Panel Six:
Rodimus delivers another heavy blow to the face of the figure.

SFX: KRRM

Panel One:
The figure calmly looks back to Rodimus with a polite smile on his face.

Mystery Figure: If you keep this up I’m going to start to take it personally.

Panel Two:
Rodimus goes nose to nose with the figure.

Rodimus: I can do this all day.

Mystery Figure: Will the good cop be along soon?

Panel Three:
Rodimus tries to deliver another punch, but the figure catches Rodimus’ fist in his hand.

SFX: CHNG

Panel Four:
The figure delivers Rodimus an uppercut, hurtling him backwards through the air.

SFX: KROOO

Panel Five:
Rodimus crashes into the transparent wall of the cell and slides to the floor in a crumpled mess. In the background, some of Rodimus’ officers draw their blasters and make for the door of the cell.

SFX: GRA-DOOM

Panel One:
The figure stands behind the table but hasn’t moved. Rodimus holds up a hand to his officers, giving them the command to hold.

Panel Two:
Rodimus gets to his feet, rubbing his jaw with one hand.

Mystery Figure: My life is in danger.

Rodimus: No kidding.

Mystery Figure (2): Don’t flatter yourself.

Panel Three:
The figure has a stern look on his face. Rodimus remains a slight distance away from the table, still clutching his jaw.

Mystery Figure: Doesn’t it strike you as odd that a heavily-damaged stranger, carrying the body of a deceased Predacon, would turn up on the doorstep of Maximal Security and gladly allow himself to be arrested?
Link Panel: You never were quick off the mark.

Panel Four:
Rodimus’s eyes narrow as he studies the figure before him, who retakes his seat at the table. Binder makes for the door.

Rodimus: Do I know you?

Mystery Figure: The mechanism in your jaw is misaligned. You should have that seen to.

Panel Five:
Binder opens the door and Rodimus walks towards the exit, not taking his eyes off the figure who watches him leave.

Panel One:
Daytime, and a tower-like building is in focus. Around it, other buildings are in disrepair and others are being rebuilt.

Dialogue (Radian): In this building, there are no factions, no labels. In this building, we are all equals, as Primus intended us to be.

Panel Two:
Radian certainly has a flair for the dramatic. He stands perfectly framed by the brilliant, shimmering rift in reality behind him - a TransWarp gateway. A small number of young Maximals and Predacons (standing apart) look on with a mix of awe and trepidation as the metallic cathedral around them seemed to come to life with his words.

Radian: This building is a mystery to all but a few Cybertronians, and mystery often travels with an unwanted companion: Fear.

Panel Three:
The portal pulsates, as if on cue, and several of the Predacons take a step back.

SFX: BWAAAWM

Panel Four:
A close-up of Radian, who smiles warmly.

Radian: But believe me when I say there is nothing to fear here.

Panel Five:
A mid-shot of a broad-shouldered bot, one of the few Predacons managing to fake any kind of confidence. His companions look on.

Gnash: I heard you’re gonna wipe us all out. Flick a switch or something and BAM! We never existed.

Panel One:
A shot over Radian’s shoulder as he looks down to the young bots before him.

Radian: Your name?

Gnash: Gnash.

Radian (2): And when you say us, Gnash, you mean...?

Gnash (2): The Predacons.

Panel Two:
Radian stepped down from the front of the warping gateway of energy.

Radian: I told you, there are no factions here. We are all the same and what affects one of us affects all of us.

Gnash: I don’t get it.

Panel Three:
The young Maximals and Predacons look backwards to see where the voice is coming from.

Predacon: The Maximals can’t go back and change anything without it affecting them.

Panel Four:
The two groups are looking back at a purple Predacon, standing alone. He looks at the ground, not liking the focus being on him.

Radian: Succinctly put and completely correct.
Link Panel: And your name?

Panel Five:
Gnash fires another question at Radian.

Gnash: But… You guys were gonna use it! You’d have wiped yourself out too?

Radian: The war had reached a decidedly desperate point -- the likes of which I hope none of you ever have to experience in your own lives.
Link Panel: If the Predacons had failed to heed the Autobots’ warning, then yes, they would have attempted to alter the past -- the ultimate consequences of which would have been incalculable.

Panel One:
Radian tries to move on but Gnash isn’t done with his line of questioning.

Radian: But thankfully, calmer heads prevailed and the planet stepped back from the precipice.

Gnash: Why’d you even build this place then?

Panel Two:
Radian gestured to the grand internal design of the building.

Radian: The Temple, as you’ve come to know it, represents a leap forward in both the technological and philosophical evolution of our species. Some have wrongly claimed that we can control time, but that’s a considerable exaggeration of our reach.
Link Panel: We now have an ability to influence time, but as simple as that may sound, it opens up a wealth of ethical and moral questions that we -- as a species -- must answer.

Panel Three:
Radian looked resolutely at the young bots before him, trying to reach them on a deeper level.

Radian: This is why you are all here today. You represent the future, the next generation -- one that inherits a lot of baggage but none that needs greater understanding and respect than this.
Link Panel: TransWarp technology isn’t the Big Stick anymore. I believe it can now be the great unifier of our race.

Panel Four:
On a balcony overlooking the ground floor with Radian and the small groups, Councillor Slate grips the railing as he glares down at them.

Slate: What in Prima’s name are they doing in here?!

Panel One:
Gnash crosses his arms and gives Radian a stern look, backed up by those behind him.

Gnash: I don’t see many Preds walking around in here.

Panel Two:
Radian’s head lowers and his shoulders slump, disappointed.

Radian: One step at a time.

Panel Three:
Back up on the balcony overlooking the congregation of young bots, Slate continues to grip the railing as Veer approaches.

Veer: They’re here by invitation.

Slate: Invitation? Whose? Yours? I think your calculations are a little off, or have you misplaced another day?

Panel Four:
Maximal Elder Silverbolt, looking regal, approaches Veer and Slate.

Silverbolt: They are here by my invitation, Councillor.

Panel Five:
Slate turns to address Silverbolt. Silverbolt looks down at the small gathering of bots who are now filing out of the doorway.

Slate: Your Eminence, I really must protest.

Silverbolt: As is your right.

Slate (2): I am all for the engagement and education of young Predacon minds -- but here of all places?

Silverbolt (2): Where better to instil in them the respect the technology demands?

Panel One:
Slate is fuming, but trying to remain courteous.

Slate: They should be accompanied by armed guards at the very least.

Silverbolt: Councillor Ironhide spoke to Radian and insisted he be armed at all times, and although he wasn’t supportive of the notion, he has agreed to it nonetheless.
Link Panel: Add to that the screening that each and every one of us must go through before entering this building, and you have one of the most secure structures on the planet.

Panel Two:
Silverbolt and Veer walk off, leaving Slate to fume in anger.

Slate: If you’re simply going to make and break rules as you see fit, why even bother with voting in the future? It’s clear the Predacon empathisers have already won.

Panel Three:
Veer’s head drops as he walks beside Silverbolt.

Veer: Maybe it is too much too soon.

Silverbolt: Doubt can cripple the best of us, but only the greatest can beat it. Don’t lose heart now.

Panel Four:
Outside the Temple, the groups of young Maximals and Predacons are leaving. The purple Predacon is walking alone, but is clearly the focus of this panel.

Panel Five:
From inside one of the abandoned buildings near the Temple, we see the half concealed face of Gigastorm. He is spying on the young Maximals and Predacons, and the purple Predacon in particular.

Panel One:
(Flashback) In a dilapidated building, Guiledart is standing a short distance away from a small group of Maximal hostages, huddled together on the ground at the back of the room. Guiledart is casually pointing a blaster at them, but his focus is on Magmatron, who stands before him, carrying a blaster, but aiming it squarely at Guiledart.

Magmatron: Put it down! You think you’re the only one with a grudge?

Panel Two:
(Flashback) From an angle behind Guiledart, he looks back at the hostages, still aiming his blaster at them. Magmatron looks on remorsefully.

Guiledart: They’re scared. For the first time in their short, underserving lives, they’re actually scared.

Magmatron: I don’t want to have to kill you... but I will.
Link Panel: Just put it down.

Panel Three:
(Flashback) The comm-link on Magmatron’s wrist cracks to life. He barks back into it.

Comm-Link: Magmatron, you have 20 seconds.

Magmatron: Hold!

Panel Four:
(Flashback) Guiledart looks back to Magmatron and studies him.

Magmatron: They’re going to tear this place down on top of us! I don’t want to die today. Do you?

Guiledart: For the good of our kind, to restart the war...

Panel Five:
(Flashback) Magmatron places a hand on Guiledart’s shoulder and looks down at his fellow Predacon, trying to persuade him.

Magmatron: This isn’t our day. Our day will come, and when it does, the Predacons will need bots like you.

Panel Six:
(Flashback) Guiledart looks up at Magmatron.

Comm-Link: 10 seconds.

Guiledart: Who will we stand behind when that day comes? Who’ll lead the charge?
Link Panel: You?

Panel One:
(Flashback) Magmatron has a pained expression on his face, conflicted.

Comm-Link: 5 seconds.

Magmatron: I...

Guiledart: Give me your word.

Panel Two:
(Flashback) Guiledart looks over his shoulder at the hostages.

Comm-Link: 4.

Guiledart: The clock’s ticking.

Panel Three:
(Flashback) Magmatron has an angered look on his face as he stares down at Guiledart.

Comm-Link: 3.

Guiledart: Your word.

Magmatron: You have it.
Link Panel: Put the blaster down.

Panel Four:
(Flashback) Guiledart holds his blaster in two hands as he gives it one last look.

Comm-Link: 2.

Magmatron: What's needed now is patience.

Panel Five:
(Flashback) The blaster lands on the ground at Guiledart’s feet.

Comm-Link: 1.

Guiledart: It’s never been my strong suit.

Panel Six:
In the present, we have a close-up of Magmatron’s face, as he is resting his head in one hand. We can see one of his eyes through his fingers, and it is black as he’s offline. A voice tries to rouse Magmatron.

Dialogue Panel: Maximals, Code Green. Hold! HOLD!

Prowl (OS): Magmatron...

Panel One:
An exact copy of the previous panel, except that Magmatron’s eye has come to life, glowing brightly.

Dialogue Panel: Code Green, acknowledged.

Prowl (OS): Magmatron.

Panel Two:
Magmatron is seated at a round table in a small chamber. Around the table are the Maximals Prowl and Bigmos, and the Predacon Hellscream.

Prowl: Anything to add?

Hellscream: Forget him -- this is all about you. You helped install the Alliance, but now you want to undermine it.

Bigmos: Predacon voices are going unheard.

Hellscream (2): And that’s your problem?

Panel Three:
Prowl looks to Magmatron while Bigmos and Hellscream face-off.

Bigmos: It’s everyone’s problem.

Hellscream: Ha! Please. The Alliance isn’t playing by your rules anymore so now you want to change the game.

Prowl: Anything at all, Magmatron?

Panel Four:
A shot of Magmatron, with Hellscream giving him a derisive look.

Magmatron: Hellscream is right to question your motives.

Hellscream: Don’t take my side, you piece of slag.

Panel Five:
Hellscream leans forward onto the table as he and Bigmos continue to trade glares.

Prowl: The two of you exemplify the divided nature of your faction.

Hellscream: Oh, cram it. Everyone hates this traitorous son of a-

Bigmos: You’re knowingly complacent to the sorrows of your Predacon brothers and sisters?

Hellscream (2): Yep. It’s every bot for themselves. Did you honestly think it would end up any other way?

Panel One:
Prowl looks to Magmatron again, but Magmatron is shooting Hellscream a dark glance, which is returned.

Prowl: Magmatron?

Magmatron: No one gives a damn about the Predacons purely out of the goodness of their spark -- least of all other Predacons.
Link Panel: We’re political fodder for the designs of both sides.

Bigmos: But isn’t that exactly why we need this committee? So the... fodder can speak for itself?

Panel Two:
Prowl tries to appeal to Magmatron, but Hellscream is dismissive.

Prowl: If it’s goodness of spark you’re after, you’d need look no further than Councillor Veer. He has every right to hate you -- you and every member of your faction -- but doesn’t, and has tirelessly lobbied for the continued progress of the Predacons.

Hellscream: So he decided to start a “We love Predacons” club but didn’t have the bearings to turn up?

Panel Three:
Hellscream stands up.

Hellscream: This is a waste of time. I’m out.

Panel Four:
From an angle out in the hallway, looking into the chamber through the doorway. Hellscream walks out the door, but his eyes are on Magmatron. Skeeto is on the outside of the chamber, leaning against the wall in the hallway.

Hellscream: And if you had a shred of dignity, you’d leave too.

Panel Five:
The two Maximals slump back in their chairs, despondent. Magmatron has his head in his hand again.

Bigmos: What are the Predacons, besides lost?

Magmatron: We are still here.

Panel One:
An angle from in front as Magmatron and Skeeto walk down a Cybertronian street in the daytime. Maximals give the two Predacons a wide berth and suspicious glances.

Info Panel: A short time later.

Skeeto: Hellscream was in typical form then?

Magmatron: Report.

Skeeto (2): I haven’t turned up anything solid -- just word of mouth stuff.

Panel Two:
An angle across the two figures. Magmatron has a look of great concern on his face.

Magmatron: And?

Skeeto: No one’s seen him, not lately anyway.

Magmatron (2): Last confirmed sighting?

Panel Three:
Skeeto eyeballs a Maximal, who stares back as they walk past.

Skeeto: The shipyards, a couple of weeks ago. Looks like he’s gone underground since.

Magmatron: Hn.

Panel Four:
Skeeto looks up to Magmatron, but Magmatron’s mind is elsewhere.

Skeeto: Why does it matter? Let the Maximals sort him out.

Magmatron: Accountability. We have to take responsibility for our words as much as our actions.

Panel Five:
An angle from behind the two Predacons as they walk on down the street. Although it’s daytime, you can make out the moon in the sky.

Skeeto: If he is planning something, he’d have needed help.

Magmatron: Three guesses from who.

Panel One:
An extreme close-up of the eyes of the young purple Predacon. His eyes are wide open in panic and fear.

Panel Two:
The Predacon is upright, his limbs shackled to a crumbling concrete wall. He fights against the chains holding him, but they won’t budge. His mouth has been clamped shut.

SFX (chains): SHL-KLSH SHL-KLSH

Panel Three:
From behind a shadowy figure walking in from the darkness, we look into the dim light of the room and to the Predacon shackled to the wall. The environment looks like the inside of a bombed out building.

Gigastorm: Have you read this?

Panel Four:
Gigastorm walks into the dim light. He is holding up a data-pad.

Gigastorm: Do you know who wrote it?

Panel One:
Gigastorm tosses the data-pad aside as he approaches the Predacon.

Gigastorm: From what I understand, he’s certainly changed his tune since the war.

Panel Two:
A close-up of the data pad, lying on the ground. The words on the screen read: The Warning After.

Gigastorm (OS): Changed his tune... A human phrase -- one of a number that’s entered our lexicon. It’s curious that I should use it because I’ve never met a human.

Panel Three:
Gigastorm leans on a makeshift table formed by a concrete slab as he addresses the Predacon.

Gigastorm: I know what you’re thinking, in amongst the panicked screams of escape echoing through your skull.
Link Panel: 'Why am I doing this?'

Panel Four:
A close-up of Gigastorm’s face, his eyes looking downward in contemplation.

Gigastorm: We are a changed species -- changed from what, our generation will really never know. The past has been locked away from us, for our protection, we’re told.
Link Panel: We’re told a lot of things and yet we’re told nothing.

Panel Five:
Gigastorm steps up to the Predacon, whose eyes remain wide in fear.

Gigastorm: That book tells us to look forward, not back, but that’s hard to do when you spend your days getting knocked to the ground.
Link Panel: Why are we paying the price for the deeds of the dead?
Link Panel: By denying us our past, they deny us understanding.

Panel One:
Gigastorm searches the chest of the Predacon for a latch or a hinge. The Predacon looks down in fear.

Gigastorm: Let me look into Razorclaw’s eye. Let me judge him and decide for myself whether what we suffer now -- in his name -- is warranted.

Panel Two:
Gigastorm finds what he was looking for, hitting a switch, and the chest compartment opens, revealing the Predacon’s spark.

SFX: KA-CH

Gigastorm: Would I have fought for him? Would you? Would an insight into his own beliefs help give me the strength to endure the cutting jibes of ignorant Maximals?

Panel Three:
Gigastorm places a hand around the spark.

Gigastorm: Is it the search for answers to these impossible questions that drives me on?

Panel Four:
An angle from the side, as Gigastorm and the Predacon look at each other. We can only see them from the neck up. The Predacon is still terrified.

Gigastorm: Or am I just plain crazy?

Panel Five:
The exact same angle as the previous panel, but this time, the Predacon’s head has drooped and his eyes have gone dark as he falls offline.

Gigastorm: It certainly runs in the family.