The silence that fell between them was agonizing, Optimus rifling through any possible argument that he could throw back in case the Tyrant was bent on continuing the spat, but to his shock, the mood shifted.
His piercing gaze softened for a split second after the stool was scooted his way, waiting for Megatron to use the distraction for a invitation to engage in a physical fight. That was usually how these things went, after all.
“Neither did I,” Optimus replied quietly as his hand drifted over top of the bar stool idly. All the fire had been sapped from his arguments and instead left with a pensive and cautious need to clarify the events that had transpired between their timelines. Universes. However it could be explained. “When I chose to change my fate through the Anonymous’ means, I had not thought my timeline still functioned… Or to which I even belonged.
“I was aware of the Multiverse, and those hailing from differing worlds before I could catch my bearings. Where I was… Who I was-” Cyan optics snapped back to the Decepticon, “Surviving an extinction attempt has a way of rattling processors.”
Extinction attempt. Always so grave. It took effort not to roll his optics.
“We are not different species, Optimus. Our race would have lived on, just as it will now. At worst, genocide is a more fitting term.” An extremely poor attempt at dark humor perhaps, but it was true. He no longer took any pride in the fact, but he wasn’t going to sugarcoat it either. Megatron returned to glaring into his glass as the coil of pain blossomed anew.
Optimus had, as he always had, chosen the path with the least violence, regardless of consequence. Though Megatron found it typical of the Prime, the predictable behavior wasn’t what had his hackles raised. Why had Optimus been able to find a way out, when he was left to pick up the shattered remains of their planet and its people?
Because you’re the one who broke it, came the unwelcome answer.
“You don’t need to explain yourself to me. Amusingly, I seem to be one of the few from our plane of existence that understands your particular brand of logic. As far as condoning it, who am I to question the Matrix of Leadership?” The venom in his lines seemed to drip from his words, and the warlord clenched his jaw, as if to stem its flow.
Megatron's back up 