He stood patiently when the answer was given, unsure what to do with himself otherwise. The cloak was gathered from his frame and folded neatly so as not to damage the fabric, and that was when the Warlord’s voice came to him, and then he saw the behemoth of a mech that stood imposingly only a few mechanometers away. Despite this, and the aura of uncertainty that clouded them, Sabri offered a smile.
“I try to keep things interesting,” He commented, placing his stave at his back and addressing the Decepticon with open hands. “And as far as lessons are concerned… I was hoping you’d tell me. Knowledge I can spare. This is a troubled time in our lives – I know.”
His smile faltered when he ran out of more to add, instead daring to let his optics wander over the scarred frame and terrible, eerie field that emanated from the Warlord’s spark.
…This was new.
“You mean to say that you haven’t been sent here to speak to me? Convince me of some truth I’ve rejected, like all the others? Reveal some grave consequence of a future action I am to avoid?”
The offered servos get a stare. He can’t get a read on this Rigel, why he’s so open and comfortable. The wandering optics are more familiar.
“Tell me one thing, Rigel. Have you taken the Matrix?”
Megatron's back up 