Brothers to the end.
Iacon was beautiful once.
It was still beautiful, in a way. The skyline was beautiful on fire, all twisted metal, stretching upwards. The shining towers had been thrown down, the priceless knowledge of libraries battled over and ground into dust. Shards of memory crystal crunched under Air Raid's heel as he surveyed the city from his vantage point, atop the spires of a golden tower. His friend Jetfire stood next to him, melancholy.
They looked at the final hope of their people, at the Ark. It was immense, a starship built from ancient designs and fuelled by the last scraps of Energon they could scrape together. That golden mass of metal was the last way off Cybertron. The Core was shutting down, its life-giving flow of Energon receding. Optimus had told them all about it, said the planet would take millions of years to recover.
Below them, a street with a long-forgotten name echoed with gunfire. Decepticon forces were launching another assault. Air Raid