First, there was silence. Then came the screaming. Alone in the darkness, I was shaken to my very core. In front of me was an assault on my senses. This felt personal. The very fabric with which I gauged happiness, wonder, fear, grief, and despair was failing me. My mouth moved to respond to what I saw, but it was in vain. That thought had already passed and was replaced by a new series of equally baffling images.
Try as I might, I was unable to grasp exactly what was occurring. When faced with the destruction of logic and reasoning, simply remembering would be an act of madness. Of course, to think that was possible was simple naivete. At the start, there existed a hopeful delusion. That there could be the possibility of newfound grace or nuance. But that was quickly disposed of, as nonsense, brutality and depravity were to rule the day.
Steel clashed. Metal churned. A force of men stood by aimlessly, impotent and unable to react. An old British man laughed, seeing the prophecy his steampunk butler told him as a child come to fruition. Hulking giants lumbered about, playing their parts in a battle barely understood. One which had raged far across the galaxy. For centuries. A deposed hero sought retribution in the arms of a twisted creator. Only the voice of love and lineage could save them.
None of it would matter though. All of it was fleeting, as I attempted to find meaning in it. The only lasting impression was a ringing in my ears, the lump in my throat, and the distinct feeling that I may have just witnessed a war crime. Evil threatened to infect everyone in the form of a shadow loomed on the horizon.
Planets collided for reasons that elude the most learned of scholars and theologians. In seconds millions were blinked out of existence. As if it were orchestrated on a whim, matching the mercurial mood of a confused and uncaring god. But no tears were shed, for no quarter was to be given. Mercy and clemency are frowned on by those who embrace the chaos.
Sparks flew, tempers flared, and explosions simultaneously reigned down from the heavens and rose from Hades. Humanity stood on the brink of extinction. Two souls in a sea of automatons. One with the face of a donkey and the other a slave to familial destiny. They flung themselves forward, propelled not by intelligence, not by duty, but by a force some may call fate. As if their dogged compulsion were written. For good must triumph evil, even if one loses all decency in the process.
My eyes were bloodshed from the carnage, but I knew there was no escaping. I wasn’t here to make sense of what transpired but to bear witness. To warn others, in the hopes that such a calamity could be averted in the future. My wallet had been stolen. Just like my soul, the clothes draped on me were torn and tattered. I emerged to see the early morning sky full of stars. Shining so so brightly. A wave of ease and calm washed over me. There, at the dawn, with arms outstretched I felt renewed. Reborn.
All others had perished in their wake. I alone had survived the Transformers, yet again.
I was now The Last Knight.
