Autobot Starfighter arrives from the Stratosphere above Western Hemisphere to the west. The skies of Cybertron glitter tonight not with stars, but with the scintillation of debris from Neocron's (Unicron's?) explosion. The gridwork striations of lights and buildings of Cybertronians that have lived to see another day lie below in cozy yellow and orange light reflecting off the indigo and steel smoothness of roadways. None of that warmth reaches this high in the skies, however. It is here that Fusillade is suspended, by virtue of antigravs and idling thrusters, arms crossed pensively. <> <>