This is an epilogue to my fic "Rising Sun". It will consist of 3 parts. I've decided to post this separate from "Rising Sun" though because i think it could also stand as a short story on it's own, though reading "Rising Sun" would help readers understand this first part better.

As the title "Of Brothers" suggests, the inspiration behind this epilogue was a few Transformers brother relationships, from the movie and one well-known pair from G1. The idea of brothers ties in nicely with the lost family theme of "Rising Sun" too i thought.

This epilogue obviously follows after Optimus Prime's visit to The Tomb of The Primes in "Rising Sun".

Transformers belongs to Hasbro and their related movies to Paramount and Dreamworks!

Rising Sun - Epilogue: Of Brothers – Part 1

Optimus Prime felt the burning heat of a sun surrounding him, penetrating his body armour and seeping right into his very spark, but oddly, he was not melting. He felt like he was simply being filled with pure white hot light, without feeling any discomfort from the heat.

He was curled up at the centre of a sun, or at least he thought he was. But neither time nor location seemed of any particular importance to him at this moment. He was at peace simply existing in his heated, intensely white environment. His metal fingers sifted through the embryonic fluid-like white heat that he floated in, needy for its intense warmth and nourishment.

He felt the life-giving solar energy coursing through his systems, sustaining him, strengthening him, feeding him. An alien hunger rose from deep within him to consume more of this sun's heat. His whole body seemed to 'drink' in the white hotness he was suspended in, absorbing its intense energy, its limitless power... He stopped. This did not seem right. He was indulging his mysterious craving for this solar power.

Suddenly, he watched and felt his surrounding white solar heat accumulate into a form in front of him. A blindingly white form manifested before him. He attempted to shield his optics with a hand, but the white light penetrated through his fingers like hot liquid.

A shining white hand reached out to Optimus. Instinctively, he reached out to it as well. The brilliant white hand firmly yet gracefully grasped his. Optimus was drawn gently toward the blindingly white being.

"My Rising Sun...," resonated from the white being.

Optimus instantly recognised the voice.

"Prima…father?" he uttered in astonishment.

The white light was subdued and the Prime known as 'Prima' was revealed before Optimus. His royal blue optics, that so resembled Optimus's own, glowed with a warm hue and his arms were spread invitingly. A bewildered yet euphoric Optimus fell into the Prime's waiting embrace. Father and son held on to one another for a timeless moment. Optimus pressed himself into his father's warm and comforting body. He did not ever want to let go. He felt Prima's ancient, elegant fingers stroking the back of his helmeted head soothingly. His voice resonated in his audio sensors.

"The Primes thrive on the power of suns, as all life essentially does, and we respect and protect the life that arises from it. Thus we do not misuse that power or take more than we need. As we are fed by the energy of suns, The Primes too act as guiding suns to light the way for others. Optimus Prime, my precious rising sun, you are the last of us, and you burn brightest of us all. I cannot be prouder."

Without warning, Prima's embracing arms dissipated from Optimus's own.

"Wait!" Optimus cried in dismay.

But his father's body had once more de-evolved back into burning white light. Optimus felt himself being engulfed by the light…

"Optimus! Optimus!"

Optimus's brilliant royal blue optics jolted back online. He shot up into a seated position. To his side, he identified the voice that had been calling his name: his trusted weapons specialist, Ironhide. Ironhide had leaned back a little to avoid being knocked by his leader's sudden rising armoured elbows.

"Whoah! Easy, Optimus! It's just me, Ironhide!"

Optimus blinked a couple of times.

"Ironhide," he murmured.

Optimus looked around himself. He observed that he was sitting on one of Ratchet's raised repair tables in the Autobot medic's makeshift N.E.S.T. repair room. He was obviously no longer in Egypt, but back on the island of Diego Garcia at the N.E.S.T. military base.

Optimus's head fell into one of his hands tiredly. Waking up so suddenly from his dream had been jarring and unpleasant, like he had been forcefully withdrawn from a source of addiction. He resisted the primal desire to shut himself down into stasis mode again and seek refuge and comfort in his dreams once more.

"Are you alright, Optimus?" Ironhide asked with concern.

Optimus felt miserable. He felt like his spark had been ripped out of his chest chamber and a terrible void had been left there. He wanted nothing more than to return to the comfort and peace of his father's secure embrace.

He forced himself to smile reassuringly at a concerned-looking Ironhide instead.

"I'm fine, Ironhide. There is no need for concern."

"I found you in stasis mode at The Tomb of The Primes. Had to drag you back here on a cargo plane. You've been in stasis for over twenty-four Earth hours," Ironhide informed. "I think you may have been out in the Egyptian sun too long."

Optimus's head sunk down again.

"Thank you for finding me, Ironhide," he said half-heartedly.

Ironhide cocked his head to one side, studying Optimus's apparently moody expression.

"What happened to you out there?" he queried.

Optimus sighed.

"I just…saw a lot of things," he answered simply and wearily.

"I think my fuel pumps nearly seized up when I found you in stasis at the tomb! You tryin' to send an old bot into retirement?" Ironhide complained with a disapproving look. "I knew I should have come with you when you expressed a desire to go back to Egypt. But no, you being Optimus insisted that you'd be fine on your own. Next time you decide to go travelling somewhere, I'm coming with you whether you like it or not!"

Optimus studied a frustrated Ironhide thoughtfully for a moment.

"I apologise for the concern I have caused you, Ironhide," was his carefully calculated response.

Ironhide crossed his arms in a displeased manner.

"Ratchet will be back in a klik to give you a full diagnostic check-up," he informed sternly.

Optimus chose to ignore this. He swung his sizeable legs down onto the floor off the repair table.

"That won't be necessary. I am fully functional and undamaged," Optimus stated.

"Hang on, Optimus…"

But Optimus was already at the door of the repair room. Ironhide shook his head.

"You're stubborn sometimes, Optimus. I don't know why I bother trying to advise you sometimes. I guess being the leader means you don't have to listen to your soldiers and subordinates."

Optimus turned his head back to Ironhide. His expression softened.

"You are one of my oldest friends, Ironhide. Your practical knowledge of warfare and weaponry has been invaluable throughout our war. And I turn to you for direct and truthful opinions. I have always held your counsel in the highest regard."

Ironhide smiled.

"You always know the right thing to say to earn the respect of others, Optimus. But I do think you should at least get more rest before you return to normal duties."

Optimus's blue optics glowed with a weariness that was indicative of his age.

"Thank you, Ironhide. But I can never rest for too long."