((Alright! I’m going to be out of the house for a while for Easter shenanigans, but as you may have noticed, Megs is Not Himself. If you want to send asks, they will be directed at Unicron, so feel free to send nonsense or honest questions you’ve always wanted to ask! I’ll answer them tonight when I’m home. Happy undead prophet and April fools day! (I won’t really be able to do my usual prank this year but feel free to prank the Unmaker!)
Soundwave had found the wandering corpse some time ago. His agonized wail had ripped through Cybertron’s atmosphere, but now he had collapsed to his knees, silent, still, and staring at a fixed point on the ground. The terrorcon came near him but did not attack, sensing one of its own. It remained close by, aimlessly clawing at the walls now and again. After a few hours, the creature that was Megatron began to change.
Rust began to crawl across its frame, the spikes of its armor became more pronounced. It straightened up, and with purpose, walked back over to Soundwave. It reached for him, drawing his gaze up with a claw to his chin.
“Your Megatron is gone. Rise herald, and serve me.”
Megatron’s spark would ache if he could hear all of these. His friend is in peril, his love is wracked with worry and calling for him… But he can hear nothing. The terrorcon screams into the void with his voice, frustrated that he can’t find the mechs in his helm.
Megatron’s comms still come through, but nobody’s home. Without any detectable sparks nearby to gravitate towards, the hulking frame stalks along the echoic tunnels, growling low. This sound may or may not be heard through the comm.
Soundwave sends a confirmation ping from the throwaway frequency he’s been using and thinks. He wasn’t going to allow any Megatrons to try, mostly because of those helpful things, but… he’s seen some pretty nasty stuff as well, and there’s that Void card he heard about. Imagine separating Megatron’s spark from his frame and getting it trapped in a bottle, or a box, or something like that. It’d solve an awful lot of problems, wouldn’t it?
…He’ll wait and see if Megatron has anything else to say.
A rather sizable threat, but one he’s faced a version of before and survived. And he isn’t clueless about Megatron’s new weaknesses. As long as he can avoid getting shot or run through, he might have a chance – if forced to fight for one. He’d rather not be put in that position. He has plans that’ll be inconvenienced if he has to spend time recuperating in a hospital.
[[Those are not memories he cares to recall.]] If he could do so without damaging his understanding of how he got to where he now is in life, he would happily delete them. Especially the ones concerning his alternate. Just thinking about being enslaved by the Chaos Bringer… not to mention enjoying it and wanting to corrupt others. It made his plating crawl.
Soundwave keeps quiet while Megatron reaches for the top card, watching, waiting, hoping something unpleasant will happen to Megatron to make up for all the things he can’t and never was able to do with his own two hands.
Then the card is turned over to show a pitch-black face, and before Soundwave’s optics can even finish widening behind his mask, Megatron clatters to the floor like so much scrap metal. No biolights. No ventilations. No sounds indicating ongoing internal function.
Soundwave goes so far as to nudge the helm with a foot, but senses nothing. For all intents and purposes, Megatron has finally fallen, and it is fantastic. It is the greatest thing he could possibly have done with this deck. Why, it even outranks sending Jazz to Primus-knows-where.
He immediately subspaces the deck and snaps a few fast shots of Megatron’s empty husk as proof of his accomplishment, knowing it won’t be long before his hideous alternate comes searching for the mech. Fights with Megatrons don’t worry him all that much, but fights with himself are something else entirely. It’ll be too dangerous to use bridges once they arrive, and he doesn’t know the layout of this mine or how to get out the regular way. He’s got a couple of minutes at most. Probably closer to a few seconds.
…Definitely sending these to Prowl. That should take care of any lingering doubts about his willingness to do what needs be done when it comes to Megatrons across the multiverse.
Megatron sees the card’s face and the light fades from his optics, frame collapsing, lifeless, to the floor. His spark is elsewhere, the weak light sealed in a photonic crystal, unaware of anything but the cold darkness that surrounds him, and the presence of something large.
Meanwhile, his frame is the star of Soundwave’s photoshoot, but the spy may notice in his last few shots that his subject hasn’t remained completely still. After he’s done sending the images, Megatron’s husk makes a gutteral snarl, clambering to his full height. His optics are nothing but a vivid purple as the massive, armed terrorcon makes to grab Soundwave in any way he can, a wild roar in Megatron’s voice echoing in the bowels of the tunnel.
Soundwave sends a confirmation ping from the throwaway frequency he’s been using and thinks. He wasn’t going to allow any Megatrons to try, mostly because of those helpful things, but… he’s seen some pretty nasty stuff as well, and there’s that Void card he heard about. Imagine separating Megatron’s spark from his frame and getting it trapped in a bottle, or a box, or something like that. It’d solve an awful lot of problems, wouldn’t it?
…He’ll wait and see if Megatron has anything else to say.
He wanted to snap back, to explain how wrong Soundwave was. Energon, dark energon, what he fueled with didn’t matter. The corruption was systematic, spreading to whatever new fuel he consumed. He could drink nothing but the purest mid-grade and it wouldn’t make a Pit-damned difference! But, arguing wouldn’t get him much farther, either. This version of Soundwave had no reason to believe a word he said, after all. Megatron wondered briefly why he didn’t feel the same.
The place he chooses is a spot deep underground, an abandoned mine that has yet to be re-excavated. As a result, energon crystals erupt from the ground and hang from the ceiling, massive chandeliers lighting the cavern with their blue glow. Apart from them, there is nothing above or below ground for miles. He’s given a message to his own spymaster to follow to his coordinates if he does not return in an hour. When the portal swirls open, Megatron opens his arms as if to greet an old friend.
“Welcome back, Soundwave. What a pleasure to see you again in person. I assume the feeling is not mutual.”
Megatron didn’t have to explain. Soundwave knew. He’d seen the experiments Shockwave did with it, and he’d watched the corruption grow inside his planet after they used the energon bridge. It was just easier to blame the dark energon he doubted Megatron had given up consuming – especially since he’d received no word that Megatron had ever even looked into having his corruption burned away, as was done for others. By Primus, by a Prime… whatever would work, though the idea of Megatron asking any of the latter for help was so unbelievable Soundwave nearly didn’t have it in the first place.
But that’s a matter for another meeting.
Soundwave ignores the open arms and fails to offer his former leader any form of polite greeting, instead staring over Megatron’s head at the energon glowing above it.
[[You assume correctly.]]
It looks normal. And aside from Megaton, nothing here gives him that feeling of being sick to his spark. Nor can he sense others lurking in the background.
…He should’ve brought one of the twins. They could’ve told him if Megatron had weakened the mine in preparation for bringing it down on his helm. Hopefully he’ll be able to get a bridge up in time if so.
[[He’d rather not stay longer than necessary. Draw your cards.]] And don’t touch him in the process. He doesn’t want those tainted claws so much as thinking of brushing across his fingertips. They’re already curled in as close as they can be without dropping the deck.
Megatron allows Soundwave to confirm that he’s come alone, although the former warlord is a rather sizable threat by himself. The cannon and sword mounted to his arm are merely reminders of this. He closes the distance between them but keeps his claws to himself, for now. Let Soundwave remain free of his vile touch.
“Pity. Here I thought that we could reminisce.” He smirks, looking the other over as well. He seems genuinely anxious, which comforts Megatron. If Soundwave had something up his servo and was assured that it would work, he would be calmer. He takes a single card from the innocent-looking cards, but their power is a palpable thing. This might be a mistake, but it’s one he’s certain he can curtail.
The one he takes is from the top, with little hesitation.
Megatron's back up 