Location: Kaon - Decepticon Barracks & Landing Platforms Skyquake Pov:
Kaon stood once more eternal.
The capital of the Decepticon Empire rose defiantly against the rust-choked skyline of Cybertron. Jagged towers of darkened purple steel clawed toward the storm-filled skies, wreathed in arcs of unstable energon lightning. Furnace fires from countless forges burned day and night, driven by Lord Megatron's relentless vision.
Every street and landing platform was alive with purpose. Vehicon patrols marched in disciplined columns while heavy cargo transports offloaded war materials to Kaon's factories, where massive production lines worked without rest all automated for efficiency.
Yet amid this Skyquake watched from the upper command platform, his piercing optics scanning the sprawling city below. Despite its strength, the sight stirred nothing within him—only a hollow, familiar ache buried beneath rigid discipline.
This war had taken so much. It had left little behind but duty and loyalty to Lord Megatron.
He closed his fist with slow precision, talons scraping against worn armor still scarred from his last mission. For all his war-forged strength, there was something else—a memory he could not let go.
His gaze drifted skyward as distant thunder rolled across the iron-bound horizon. His comms buzzed softly— A name he had not spoken in countless cycles.
Dreadwing
A deep, resonating thrum shattered the quiet. The distant wail of thrusters that cut through the hum of Kaon. He turned sharply toward the landing platform, gaze narrowing.
The skies above Kaon burned as a Decepticon ship broke through the low-hanging clouds, flanked by escort drones. Its twin thrusters roared, thrumming with barely-contained power, pushing against the electrical energon storm with brutal efficiency.
Skyquake's talons flexed instinctively.
The ship's landing struts slammed down with a thunderous hiss of venting hydraulics. Its main ramp groaned open, releasing clouds of pressurized steam, masking the towering figure that emerged from within.
Heavy footfalls echoed—slow, deliberate, each one a declaration of strength.
His frame, a fortress of blue-gold armor laced with accents, gleamed faintly in the dim light. Massive servo-muscles shifted with mechanical grace beneath his combat-scarred plating, and his optic visor burned a sharp, predatory red.
The ramp hissed closed behind him, leaving only the howling wind and the electric hum of distant forges.
For the first time in Vorns, Skyquake found himself unable to move. His mind stalled. This was impossible. The reports left no room for second chances. The assault on Ark had taken everything from him besides Lord Megatron but Dreadwing now stood.
The wind howled, tossing metal shards across the landing platform as they faced each other in the silence.
Two brothers, separated by an eternity of battles and bitter campaigns, now reunited.
Neither spoke at first there was no need.
Finally, Skyquake took a measured step forward, his armored pedes striking the platform's cold steel. His voice, sharp and commanding as ever, cracked ever so slightly:
"Dreadwing... by the Allspark... is it truly you?"
Dreadwing's gaze remained locked on his brother's. His talons tightened into a clenched fist—forcefully keeping his emotions at bay.
"Yes brother I still function."
Skyquake claws scraped against his armored wrist as he suppressed the flicker of emotion threatening to surface.
But Dreadwing —his brother—stood before him, alive, unbroken.
"I thought... I thought I'd lost you."
The words left his mouth unbidden, strained. That wasn't an admission. Just a fact.
Dreadwing inclined his head, faintly—an acknowledgment, nothing more. He would not give empty reassurances. He never had.
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Location: Kaon - Decepticon Barracks
Inside the Decepticon Command Barracks, Skyquake and Dreadwing sat across from each other in tense, expectant silence. The air smelled of molten steel and burned energon residue, remnants of Kaon's eternal industry.
The flickering light of a dim energon lamp cast long shadows across the scarred walls. It was familiar—comforting, in its own brutal way.
Dreadwing leaned forward, resting his claws on the cold steel table between them, his optics unreadable. Skyquake watched him in silence, unmoving. They needed no grand reunion—Decepticons rarely did.
Their shared silence stretched once more, but it was no longer tense. It was familiar. After a long moment, Dreadwing slowly rose from his seat, extending his clawed hand.
Skyquake took his arm in a fierce, unspoken grip, his talons tightening with shared understanding. No words were needed.
A ping went off the nearby holographic desk flickered on to life and a vehicon appeared "Commander's Lord Megatron has requested your presence." The screen then went blank.
The mission awaited. The Decepticon cause demanded it—but this time, they would face it together.