[The video cuts in suddenly, static-laced and foggy at the edges as steam rolls by. Its Magnum, the faintest hint of terror being tightly locked under a grim visage as he is thoroughly power-washed by drones in The Silver Bullet's locker rooms.]
Soundwave.[He isn't bothering to lock this--that would take too much time, and he fears he has none
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[Suddenly, someone doesn't particularly care if their resurrection is no longer a secret.]
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Please.
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How does it feel, knowing what will happen, hmn?
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Probably as wonderful as it feels to get your spark removed, hmm?
And you've survived.
Perfect.
[He laughs, a very not-well edge to the sound even over the rush of water.]
So Dirge can...
...so...Dirge...can.....
[His optics flicker.]
You're...really alive?
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I hope it does. I hope it causes you to suffer as I, and the little ones, did.
Dirge can perish. That is what he can do.
[Another snort.]
What do you think?
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That...is...
[He offers a final, weak growl.]
A pity. You should have heard them crying on the network for you...
[He laughs, softly.]
So it has come to this.
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[His engine growls. This is better than what Magnum deserves, as far as he's concerned.]
I hope you rust within your own processor, you scum. Rust... and never return.
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I'm sorry. I won't bother you, I...promise.
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Your crimes against my charges and my race bother me. Your very existence bothers me.
You will have to try harder to make amends for what you have done.
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I didn't know, I swear!
I...don't...even know how I managed it...
[He shakes his head, so unsure.]
What do you want me to do?
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What do I want you do?
You can offline in the heap. Or by my hands. I want you to feel pain as my lieutenant did. As my charges and my Primes did.
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I know.
I meant it...at the time. I...don't mean it, now.
[Both hands go to his helm, as if he can block this out.]
N...no! I'm...so, so sorry...
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Apologies change nothing either.
You need to suffer for your crimes.
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I will...fix...things. Somehow.
Just...tell me what to do. I cannot...just die.
How would I live with myself, then?
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