EmpressLotus: Soldiers are made, not born. Soldiers are sentient. Soldiers know what they do and have the heart to feel guilty about what they've done on the battlefield after it's all said and done. Soldiers are said to fight for freedom, for their loved ones and for the hope of a new future. The rest are simply murderers.

And what does a soldier's life come down to? That corpse lying in a ditch and those still alive who are fighting not to suffer the same fate, struggling to make it back to freedom, loved ones, and a time where they don't have to hope for a better tomorrow because they live in a good today. But sometimes, no matter what they do, a soldier's time runs out and he inevitably becomes that corpse.

Optimus Prime knew that before he became that corpse and he accepted it which, in retrospect, made him the greatest soldier of all.

It is my honor to present you with his last story.

A Body, a Mind, of a Soldier

Injustice – 1. Lack of justice; violation of another's rights or of what is right. 2. A specific unjust act or condition that causes persons to suffer hardship or loss undeservedly; wrong.

Optimus Prime.

In all the time he had been called that, the leader of the Autobots had never been this close to crying.

He knew. He knew before the transmission reached Moon Base One that his friends were dead and he, with all his spark, wanted to cry.

But he didn't…because he was a soldier.

Alpha Trion built him to give and take blows, his CPU reprogrammed to think and command as an army general would. His optical sensors were sharpened to improve aim, logic circuits heightened to make hard, tactical decisions easier to deal with, vocal processor adjusted to a deep baritone lilt pleasurable to the audio and perfect for charismatic speeches given to encourage and lead troops to war.

This, this mech—no, this soldier—was Optimus Prime. And as a soldier, Optimus Prime did not cry.

So when Prime felt the presence of six new sparks entering the Matrix, he remained calm and at attention even though his own spark wished for nothing more than to fall on his knees and sob like a sparkling. He wondered what he was to do now that some of his best warriors were no longer at his disposal. It was a cruel thought, a heartless thought. His actions were everything but indifferent, but it was how Optimus Prime acted, it was how he thought. He was no different than Megatron really…

After all, they were both soldiers.

The events that followed were a blur.

Only joors after the ship and her ill-fated crew left on the energon run to Earth, Blaster's distress call from Autobot City spoke of Decepticons blitzing the city. The Autobots might not last. Optimus, do you rea-…the signal was cut.

Then Optimus was on his way in a ship of his own, speeding through the empty vacuum of space at light speeds along with a small unit of men assembled to put a stop to the Decepticons.

Once and for all, he told himself.

He and Sunstreaker were at the forefront of the ship, piloting the controls as they plunged into the Earth's atmosphere soon to fly above barren, war-torn ground. He ordered the Dinobots to eject and destroy Devastator who was ripping through the city's crippled fortifications while he and the rest of the crew landed just outside the city limit.

Now here he was, gazing upon a ruin once called the eighth Wonder of the World.

His rival had crossed the line this time. "Megatron must be stopped, no matter the cost!"

That line was so old, he'd said it so many times before, but this time, he meant it. This time, Megatron, when Optimus transforms into his truck form and races onto the battlefield, the Autobot leader will put his spark into every shot, every punch.

You have rekindled something in his spark, oh glorious leader of the Decepticons, that you will regret.

And as Optimus Prime drove down the metal road leading to the towering buildings of the crumbling Autobot City, plowing through any Decepticon in his path, he cast aside all the things he said he fought for and focused on just one thing, one thing to keep him going: the graying corpse of a fallen comrade.

The first murder of a sentient being by another sentient being was done out of vengeance. Nothing has changed since then save for technology. Out of the huge number of updated weapons one can choose from, a soldier is still just another tool of death.

He isn't sure when he transformed back to his bipedal mode, pulled his gun out, or fired his first shots. Like cycling air, fighting was second-nature, a reflex. But all scattered thoughts abruptly disappear as all senses converge onto the Decepticon standing in front of him.

"Prime," Megatron practically spits his name as if it were dirt.

They were so much alike…

Optimus stared hard at the gray mech, "One shall stand…"

…, yet there was one big difference.

"…, one shall fall."

Optimus Prime wasn't always a soldier.

"Why do you throw away your life so recklessly?"

He had a life once, before all this.

"That's a question you should ask yourself, Megatron."

Orion Pax, the simple dock worker whom he should have been today but wasn't.

He was Optimus Prime, a soldier.

"No! I shall crush you with my bare hands!"

Megatron lunges forward, tackling Prime to the ground. Electricity from damaged circuitry surrounds them like fingers of blue lightning.

Drawing from his immense reserves of strength, Optimus manages to push Megatron off and throw him into a wall. Pain shoots through his abdomen when he stumbles to his feet; a sheet of metal that has pierced through his armor protrudes from his side.

The two leaders continue to grapple with each other, struggling to tip the table in their favor. Megatron firing shots that miss by inches, cutting deeper into Prime's side with an energy sword, Optimus getting in a few hits here and there and it seems he is losing, but Optimus merely dampens his pain receptors. There will be an opening soon, he just has to hold out…there!

Megatron is going to tear out his optics. Optimus wraps two red and blue arms around the other's waste and heaves his rival over his shoulders yards away from where he stood.

"Do it, Prime! Finish him off!" Someone, Kup judging by the voice, calls.

Megatron must be stopped, no matter the cost. One shall stand; one shall fall, once and for all, finally.

That is what you're here for, Optimus. Pick up your gun; aim it at your fallen foe. Finish him, finish him! You are a soldier, body and mind. Finish him!

"No more, Optimus Prime! Grant me mercy, I beg of you!"

"You who are without mercy now plead for it? I thought you were made of sterner stuff." Optimus taunts.

He can't bring himself to shoot Megatron. Optimus Prime is the body and the mind, but his spark will forever be Orion Pax.

And Orion Pax, the simple dock worker doesn't have it in him to kill another living being, even if he is a monster, even if he is reaching for that gun tucked away out of Prime's sight because, in reality, Optimus Prime and Megatron are both monsters.

Time moves too fast again.

The next thing Optimus Prime knew, he was being carried back to the ship by the survivors of the Autobot City Massacre. One of his men had jumped on Megatron; he had been trying to stop Megatron from killing Optimus, but the Decepticon Commander-in-Chief freed himself and blasted Prime with numerous shots. Just when the tyrant thought he had won, though, Optimus gathered the last of his strength and focused it into one crushing blow straight to the chest, right above his spark chamber.

Right where one of Megatron's shots almost hit.

It was still too close to home, however. Optimus Prime knew, yet they insisted to monitor him, insisted they do something.

He had learned from experience there was nothing they could do being as damaged as he was. The agony he should have felt staring at the dark ceiling would be excruciating, but Prime had more important things he needed to concentrate on.

"Prime, you can't die!"

They were trying to make him cry. There was nothing to grieve about. Soon, he would be one with the Matrix.

He told them so.

He wasn't fully prepared to die, of course. He still had to pass on the Matrix to the new Prime, but there was no fear in termination. The humans had a saying - "Live by the sword, die by the sword" – such was the life of a soldier.

"Ultra Magnus," it's becoming harder and harder to form the words, "it is to you, old friend, I pass the Matrix of Leadership on to as it was passed to me."

Ultra Magnus has doubts. Optimus Prime is fading, his leader is fading, the leader he and so many others looked up to. What is he supposed to think? What is he supposed to say?

Optimus doesn't think it has to be him. The Matrix chooses who will bear it; an Autobot will rise up to take it…one day.

Optimus Prime opens his chest panel to reveal the Matrix, fit snug in its own compartment. His hand is malfunctioning; it loses its grip and the glowing artifact of Cybertronian legend slips from his fingers.

"'Til all are one…"

There will come a day when all will be united. That day, he will regret not being there to witness what will be a spectacular miracle. But as he lay on the medical table, dying, he can't help but feel strangely content. He always thought that when one dies, the world grows darker, and yet, everything seems to grow brighter and brighter until his whole world is awash in white light so sparkling, it should hurt his optical sensors.

He wasn't Optimus Prime anymore. He wasn't Orion Pax. He was just joy, standing there. And from the light, he hears a voice that speaks in a strange language that he somehow understood.

The voice was familiar, a voice of an old friend passed on into the Matrix. What he said made the mech, who used to be the Autobot leader who before that had been a simple dock worker but wasn't anymore, laugh.

Although, considering past circumstances, it shouldn't have sounded so funny.

"I could've fixed that."

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A cookie to whoever can guess who spoke at the end ;P.