"You stole the Allspark from us with a despicable sneak attack, and now you blame us for its loss!" Optimus Prime retorted, his own processors struggling to understand what had just happened.
"Nonsense!" Megatron roared, lunging at Optimus in a blind rage. The two leaders clashed once more.
This time, however, the fight was starkly different. Optimus was at full strength, his energy reserves untouched after the swift and brutal dispatching of Bonecrusher. Megatron, in contrast, was severely weakened. The blast from Tony's arc reactor had left him with deep internal damage, and though he had partially recovered, his combat effectiveness was drastically reduced. From the first blow, he was at a clear disadvantage against the relentless assault of Optimus Prime.
Their battle was a maelstrom of screeching metal and explosive impacts. Shards of armor flew like shrapnel as the two titans hammered away at each other.
"Megatron, it's over! You have lost!" Optimus declared, though his attacks showed no mercy. He caught Megatron's incoming fist, and with a swift counter, his own energy blade sliced through Megatron's newly repaired arm. He followed with a powerful thrust that tore a gaping hole through Megatron's torso—so large that for a fleeting moment, one could see the panicked expression of Starscream circling in the sky beyond.
Starscream had only intended to put on a show, to stall for time without any real risk. He had imagined Megatron would solve the problem, and he would share in the glory. But now? The Allspark was gone, Megatron was being systematically dismantled by Optimus Prime, and defeat was imminent. What would happen to him? Would he be captured by the Autobots?
Starscream would never allow himself to be cornered. He abandoned his charade with Tony Stark. In a desperate, self-serving maneuver, he dove toward the brawl on the ground. He slammed into Optimus Prime, knocking the Autobot leader off balance, then grabbed the grievously wounded Megatron and began a hasty retreat into the sky. Optimus's own dagger remained embedded deep in Megatron's chest, dangerously close to his spark chamber, which was already flickering and failing. Megatron was on the verge of returning to the matrix.
Even as he was being carried away, Megatron managed a final, defiant shout. "Optimus Prime, just you wait! I will take back everything that belongs to me!" He could not afford to lose, even in his retreat.
Tony landed beside Optimus Prime, retracting his faceplate. He frowned, watching the fleeing Decepticons. "Just letting them go like that?"
"They have fled," Optimus said in a low, heavy tone. "Now is not the time for a final battle."
Tony didn't press the issue, his mind already shifting to the immediate crisis. "Stark Tower is a wreck. Half of Manhattan is damaged. The insurance companies are going to have a meltdown. I just hope my people are okay."
At that moment, a stream of blue data coalesced beside Tony, resolving into the solid form of Jarvis.
"Sir, the suburban base has been destroyed. I also found the body of Mr. Jazz."
A sickening crunch echoed as Optimus Prime's fist slammed into the concrete bridge beside him, leaving a spiderweb of cracks. The death of his comrade filled him with a grief so profound it manifested as pure rage.
"That silver one... he had style," Tony said with a sigh. "A damn shame."
Meanwhile, in the streets of Manhattan, the chaos was ending. The combined might of the Autobots and the Rider Clan had systematically eliminated the rampaging Decepticons. The last remaining enemy soldier was unceremoniously split in two by Thunderbolt's energy blade, prompting a sudden, relieved cheer from the surrounding NYPD officers who had been little more than bystanders.
"Sir, we have confirmed 35 casualties, nine of them fatal. Mr. Obadiah Stane was among them. He was crushed by a collapsing wall," Jarvis reported back at the tower.
Tony was silent for a long moment before letting out a heavy sigh. "Provide generous compensation packages for all injured employees, from one to four years' salary based on the severity of their injuries. For those we lost... compile a list. We'll visit their families personally to discuss compensation."
Jarvis continued, "Sir, there is one more thing. This was recovered from Mr. Stane's personal computer." He raised a hand, and the main monitor on Tony's desk flickered to life, playing a grainy video file. It showed Tony, captive in the cave in Afghanistan, surrounded by members of the Ten Rings.
A distorted voice on the recording said, "You did not inform us our target was Tony Stark. You will pay for your deception. The price for assassinating Tony Stark has just gone up."
"Alright, turn it off," Tony said, standing up and shutting down the display. He had suspected Obadiah for a long time but had never found the moment to investigate. "Forget it. He's dead. Fire everyone in the company associated with Obadiah's faction."
Just then, Pepper Potts walked in. "Tony, the press conference is about to start. I've prepared your statement. Stark Industries has also arranged the contract for the Manhattan restoration project. We're just waiting for you to go out there and sign."
Tony took the speech from Pepper with a faint smile. "Pepper, you always know how to keep things moving. I'd be lost without you."
Phil Coulson, who had followed Pepper in, approached and handed Tony another file. Tony waved it off, but Pepper took it for him, glanced at the contents, and then passed it to her boss. Coulson, ever busy, had been dispatched by Nick Fury to handle the situation personally due to his prior contact with Tony.
"Mr. Stark," Coulson began, "if reporters ask about the Decepticons, please read from this script. It is imperative that you do not mention aliens to the public."
Tony gave the papers a cursory glance before sliding them under Pepper's prepared speech. "I'll keep it in mind," he said dismissively.
When he stepped onto the press conference stage, he was met with a blinding barrage of camera flashes.
"Mr. Stark, is it true that Stark Industries will be handling the restoration of Manhattan?"
"Mr. Stark, a large number of robots invaded the city. Do you have any information on their origin?"
"Mr. Stark, we have reports of another group of robots fighting the destructive ones. Are these two factions at war? Was that the cause of this invasion?"
"Mr. Stark, Stark Tower appears to have been the epicenter of this event. Is this robot chaos connected to Stark Industries?"
"Mr. Stark, you were seen standing with a giant red and blue robot near the Brooklyn Bridge. You were wearing armor. Were you involved in the battle for Manhattan?"
"Mr. Stark..."
The reporters' questions flew at him like bullets, but Tony was in his element. He held up a hand, a charming grin on his face, and the room quieted.
"It seems I'm still quite popular! So many questions, it's hard to know where to begin. Luckily," he said, shaking the papers in his hand, "my ever-prepared assistant has a script for me!"
A wave of laughter rippled through the press corps.
Tony let the laughter subside before continuing. "Okay, first things first. Yes, Stark Industries has been in discussions with the relevant city departments about the repair work. The contracts are ready for my signature. Our company has decided..."