The final part! It's short. But an epilogue is to follow after this.

Again, it's been nice knowing that i've entertained some readers. Thank you kindly to those who have made their interest and enjoyment of this story known!

Rising Sun – Part 9

The observing older Optimus fought to hold back the tide of his anger and grief. He barely maintained his silent composure and continued watching the events in front of him. He had just found out who had been responsible for his guardian and mentor's brutal murder centuries ago: The Fallen. Optimus suddenly thought with some disconcertion of how similar the manner in which he had ended The Fallen's existence had been to the manner in which The Fallen had ended Alpha Trion's existence; he had also plunged his arm through The Fallen's body and ripped out his spark. Optimus had cast aside his usual inhibitions and self-control in that battle. All he had focused on was simply the necessity to permanently end The Fallen's threat to Earth and avenge his ancestors' demise. He had killed The Fallen in a manner as cold and brutal as the treacherous former Prime's killing of Alpha Trion and his brothers long ago, a coincidental form of retribution for The Fallen, but a disconcerting reminder of the potentially terrible power of all Primes for Optimus. He could never allow himself to fully lose control. His considerable power and strength had to always be used responsibly, wisely and for the good of others. He did not ever want to succumb to the violence and ruthlessness of his enemies. That was one of the things that separated him from them.

Optimus then observed, with great sadness, his younger self returning to Alpha Trion's workshop sometime later. He felt the grief in his spark overwhelm him as he knew the devastating discovery that awaited his younger self there. The young Optimus was accompanied by a younger Ironhide. Alarmed by the workshop's broken entrance, both bots rushed into the compound.

"Alpha Trion!" the young Optimus called out.

He froze when he saw his elder guardian's body lying lifelessly on the floor. Ironhide came up behind the young Optimus and froze upon the grim sight as well.

"Optimus…" Ironhide sympathetically began, but he lost his words.

The young Optimus collapsed onto his knees beside Alpha Trion's body. The shock and grief on the young leader's face was heart-wrenching.

"No…Alpha Trion…not you…"

He collected Alpha Trion's limp body into his arms and held it close to him. His head shook slowly from side to side.

"I'm so sorry, Optimus…," Ironhide quietly offered.

"He was like a father to me…," the young Optimus said in an unstable low voice. "He had more to tell me about my past… He…"

The grief-stricken young Optimus fell silent. He lowered Alpha Trion's body gently back down onto the floor. Suddenly, he then let out a frightening scream of anguish.


His fist slammed down onto the floor, instantly sending cracks through it. He raised one knee up from the floor and rested an arm and his head on it. Ironhide's hand reached out to comfort his leader's kneeled, curled form, but then he stopped and let his arm fall uselessly to his side.

From shadows outside the workshop, a dark presence watched the grieving Prime emotionlessly through a window.

"Pain, tragedy, loss. Such is the fate of all Primes it seems," The Fallen coldly remarked.

Neither sadness nor satisfaction filled him. He felt nothing.

The vibrant light from his pulsating spark gradually faded back into the concealment of his chest armour. Optimus found himself alone again. He wearily thought that he had been all his life. He was the last orphan of an extinct first race of Cybertronians. He was the last Prime. His forefathers were stone-cold dead before him. For thousands of Earth years, their memories had laid hidden, waiting to be rediscovered. Standing at their tomb, the last son of The Primes yearned to return to his kin. The family he had never known called to him from over the ages. They were waiting for him.

Optimus did not resist the silent beckoning of the tomb any longer. He crawled on all fours into its enclosed, warm and secure womb. He nestled and curled into the still arms of his surrounding forefathers. He laid his hand into his father's open palm, interlocking his fingers with his father's. Holding onto his father's hand, he shut off his optics. As the first rays of the early morning Sun entered the tomb and pushed back its darkness, Optimus dreamed that his father embraced him. A gentle sigh seemed to breathe through the tomb. A shimmering energon tear rolled down the metal face of the last Prime.

Father and son were reunited at long last.

Outside, the night had fallen as the Sun rose.