King Arthur, Guinevere, and Lancelot dueled with their respective counterparts. Judging from her movements, Guinevere wasn’t used to combat at all as she tired herself in dodging Rouge’s attacks. Rouge then delivered a roundhouse into her abdomen, winding her and making her collapse. “GUINEVERE!” called Arthur and Lancelot.
“You’re wide open!” growled Shadow as he and Sonic spin-dashed into them, knocking them to the floor. The three Camelot Denizens panted as their Mobian counterparts helped them up.
“Come on, Arthur!” laughed Sonic. “I know you were sleeping, but…”
“You suggested that Guinevere, a woman, should enter into combat!” argued Arthur. “Tell me, what good would having a woman die on the battlefield serve?!”
“If you’re suggesting that women should let the men die while we just sit at home and worry,” snarled Rouge, “you’re out of your goddamned mind!”
“Rouge is right,” agreed Shadow. “It’s their world too, and they have a right to defend it.”
“And if both should die, who will care for their child?!” asked Guinevere.
“Not everyone’s so fixed on making babies,” retorted Sonic. “Besides, there’s enough people that are to keep the species going, whatever that species is.”
“Thou maketh life sound clinical,” muttered Lancelot.
“Look, take it from a guy who lost his only friend 50 years ago,” remarked Shadow, “there’s more to life than just living according to a code.”
“…50 years ago?” asked Arthur.
“…Her name was Maria Robotnik, Eggman’s cousin.”
“But how do you not age?”
“I’m an artificial life-form.”
“Artificial in…”
“That’s the end of that!”
“Arthur,” suggested Rouge, “I hate to say this, but there ARE times when you need to put love aside. It could get you killed on the battlefield.” Everyone looked to Rouge.
“Why don’t we take a break?” asked Sonic.
“Twould be wise to ease our minds,” agreed Lancelot.
“Then we shall rest until our bodies are prepared again,” declared Arthur.
“Perfect! See you later!” Sonic then took off for a run. Shadow and Rouge then left to meet with Omega. Arthur, Lancelot, and Guinevere then looked at each other. Arthur then shut his eyes before speaking.
“Lancelot, My Queen, tell me true,” he sighed, “is thy love for each other still strong?” The two flinched, then looked at each other, one trying to silently ask the other for help on wording.
“…Yes,” Lancelot finally sighed.
“My King, I…” began Guinevere.
“Am I?”
“…My Lord?”
“Am I really a king if the kingdom I knew hath fallen long afore our reawakening?”
“The inscription on thy coffin,” reminded Lancelot, “says that thou art the once and future king.”
“The meaning behind that was that Camelot would be eternal, yet it is gone.”
“…Yea, tis true, but the ideals of the time are spoken about in legend.”
“Exactly, they are merely stories now.”
“Arthur, I ask this of thee,” interjected Guinevere, “what be the purpose of stories? To merely offer a window into the past or to give hope to the future?”
“Is there a point to this conversation?” called Merlin’s voice. He entered the room.
“Merlin, are we not throwbacks to an age that no longer exists?” asked Arthur.
“Mere throwbacks, or assistance to the future?” riddled Merlin.
“…Merlin, my patience for thy riddles hath worn thin as I aged.”
“Tis what I tried to tell him, Merlin,” said Guinevere.
“Arthur, it seems, to mine eyes,” remarked Lancelot, “that thou thinks thyself useless to the modern world.”
“Lancelot, answer me this: how can we survive?! We belong not in this time! Those who dwell on us are doomed to commit the same sins we have!”
“But they don’t,” answered Merlin. “Arthur, they do learn about your sins as well as your virtues. That’s why it was important to have you return in this age. For what are stories if not a means to teach lessons?”
“Like the tales in the Good Book,” offered Guinevere. Arthur then arched an eye ridge.
“…Aye, tis true,” he muttered as his heart became lighter. “Tis very true! Lancelot, Guinevere, Merlin, thou art all wise!”
“Wiser, in my case,” chuckled Merlin as he vanished in smoke. Arthur then turned to Guinevere.
“My Lady Fair, though our kingdom be gone, thy feelings still remain. Because of this, twould follow that thou hast more freedom to settle thy heart’s desires. My Friend and My Queen, thou mayst romance as thou wish.” Guinevere and Lancelot goggled at their king.
“Arthur, art thou…?!” spluttered Lancelot.
“Aye, I am.”
“DAMMIT!” shouted Morgane as she looked through the scrying orb. “The triangle is being settled!”
“Should we move?” asked Onslaught.
“Tell your father that the time to search Shamar is NOW!”
“Sure thing, Ma.” Morgane then goggled at Onslaught.
“…Ma?”
“Er, I meant Ma’am!” Onslaught then scuttled off, leaving Morgane confused.
Over in Shamar, Cliffjumper searched the sands. “That signature was around here somewhere,” he muttered. He then looked at the ring on his finger. “…Wouldn’t it be selfish to ask?”
“Wouldn’t it be selfish NOT to?” asked Shahra’s voice, startling the bot and making him yelp. “I’m sorry, Master!”
“No, no, it’s all right,” assured Cliffjumper. “…Hey, Shahra, what do YOU want?”
“Pardon?”
“Is it possible for you to grant your own wishes?”
“I’m afraid not, not while I’m bound to the ring.”
“If it were possible, what would you wish for?” There was a silence that followed Cliffjumper’s question.
“…No, it’s silly.”
“Come on, you can tell me.” Shahra sighed before answering.
“…Freedom.”
“I figured the ring was a prison. Tell me, can a master wish a genie free?”
“Yes, but I’m forbidden from telling you. If I tried, I would burst into flames.”
“Scrap!” Cliffjumper then hit something and ended up bumper-first in a dune. He transformed and looked at the object. It was a grey thing protruding from the sand. “Oh, embarrass me, will you?! Shahra, I wish for you to help me dig it up!”
“As you wish!” Shahra summoned a pair of shovels, one for each person, and they began digging. The object turned out to be an arm, a Cybertronian one.
“I wonder who’s buried here?” he muttered. They started digging around the object and cleared away the sands to reveal a mech’s head…a mech’s head Cliffjumper recognized, despite the scars on the face. He gasped and dropped his shovel as he stumbled backwards. Shahra then read Cliffjumper’s mind and gasped as she got the message. “We never found him after the…!” The head’s optics then flickered online, revealing a terrifying red color. He spat out sand, then looked up and gave a wicked grin.
“I suppose helping those less fortunate is completely out of the question,” chuckled the mech. Cliffjumper and Shahra didn’t speak, they were too terrified to do so. “If that is the case, you might as well use your shovels to finish me. I guarantee you’ll never have a better opportunity than right…now!” Cliffjumper looked around as he decided his actions. “…Well? What are you waiting for?! Think of the glory! Seize the day! Optimus would.” Cliffjumper then decided.
“No, he wouldn’t. Not like this! Shahra, we’re getting out of here!” He transformed and Shahra returned to her ring as he sped off.
“I’ll be sure to tell him the details of our conversation…the day I rip out his SPARK!” laughed the mech. Cliffjumper had long disappeared over the dunes, leaving the mech alone. He then started clearing away the sand around his torso, reveal the Badge of the Decepticon Lord! “All…hail…Megatron!” chuckled the mech.