Hot Shot glumly trudged up behind Prowl and surveyed the scar left across the battlefield. A second later, something nearby caught his attention, and he trotted over to inspect it more closely. Carefully kneeling, he extricated a warped armor plate that used to be painted red and a dented smokestack that definitely looked like it used to be part of Optimus’ kibble. “Hey Prowl?” he called out tentatively. “Maybe over here?” He inadvertently let a note of hope slip into his voice. Maybe the Matrix was just buried.