“Optimus,” Lennox said, stepping closer, feeling the heat radiate from the Autobot’s chassis. “We need to secure that Cube. Sector 7 is gone. The Decepticons are scattered, but Megatron—”
Sam just nodded, his jaw tight. He wasn't looking at the Cube. He was looking at the still, gray form of Bumblebee, his guardian, lying crumpled against a shattered fountain. Legs twisted, optics dark, a quiet hiss of escaping coolant the only sound. transformers.2007
The kid didn't look like much.
“You did well, Samuel,” Optimus rumbled, his voice a tectonic plate shifting. He held the AllSpark, now reduced to a cube the size of a basketball, cupped in his massive hands. It pulsed with a light that seemed to hum under the skin, a silent frequency of creation. The Decepticons are scattered, but Megatron—” Sam just
“He’ll come back,” she whispered.
“Time is up,” Ironhide snarled, cannons deploying. Legs twisted, optics dark, a quiet hiss of
And Optimus Prime, holding the AllSpark like a fragile child, looked up at the fading stars.