[The video opens in a very dark room, with a light shining around to illuminate various features of the setting a-la Blair Witch. It passes over counter-tops with broken glass and various tools, beakers, and dormant machines, then lights up what seems to be a transformer-sized lab-table in the center of the room, looking not unlike a dentist's
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waitaminute]
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and walking through the halls, footsteps surprisingly quiet.]
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and did the temperature just drop a bit? must be your imagination.]
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...
[But he didn't survive this long for no reason. Strange shifts in temperature? Alterations in lighting? He looks up.]
...is someone there?
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so. since there's little doubt that this place is already compromised...
Nemesis places a hand on the wall, willing the Darkness to obey his command. it runs along it, rusting and blackening the metal, a foreboding corruption spreading in to the room towards Megatron. in the dim lights, it may not be seen very well...
...no more than the shadow on the wall, at least, that may or may not be familiar.]
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There's only...
Rust?
There's rust?
He frowns, backing away. Hadn't the Realtor said it was at least structurally sound?]
...
[He reaches out to pick at it.]
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but maybe that's all it needs. Nemesis, for his part, takes his hand off the wall and starts moving forwards again, stepping in to the room proper.]
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Its hard not to remember the very touch that has killed him, and he roars, swinging around, peering through the darkness to find its source.]
...Nemesis.
[How dare he rust this building?]
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he's just raising his arm, and a full array of wing-cannons with it, and they hum to life for all of a few seconds before they fire in a broad spread.
/dodge this/.]
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[He dives, as quickly as he can, behind the lab table in the center of the room. Of...all the places.]
What the hell are you doing here?
[This was his soon-to-be property!]
...
[And this was dangerous. He was going to need support.]
[Do give him a moment to do that while he's ducked behind the same slab you had Starscream on.]
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[the table survives. barely. Nemesis lowers his arm, but his cannons whine as they prepare another set of shots]
Do step out from there, gladiator. Cowering doesn't suit you.
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[The answer still sounds ridiculous, even though he growls it.]
Come now, Nemesis, you can't be bothered to walk around a table?
[He hates being out-matched, with every fibre of his being...but it just means he needs to get smart. The canons take time to recharge--he can use that. If he can get Nemesis to fire again...]
[With a roar, he kicks the table at his foe, raising his own canon to fire as he runs toward the doorway, needing new cover.]
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Are you trying to make a j-
[FIRING AT THAT TABLE NOW firing /through/ that table. the blasts rush past Megatron as he moves, and Nemesis's optics slit in irritation as he catches the motion.
he'll throw out his other arm and fire one of the cannons at Megatron, but it's not nearly as powerful as it could be.]
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