Megatron must have watched the footage fifteen times by now. How could such decay affect a building so quickly, and why would any mechs willingly subject themselves to it? No… He had seen some truly frightening indoctrination, both willing and unwilling. The fact that a group lived here did not surprise him so much as unsettle the old warlord. Not here, not on his Cybertron.
Megatron kept this investigation quiet, but all those few that learned of his plan advised against him being the one to go. He heard all of their concerns, agreed that certainly he could send a team of soldiers to reclaim the dormitory, but refused to change course. With the dark energon in his system, he was resistant to typical illness; without knowing the kind of plague that seemed to be affecting the building, it only made sense that he take point. More than that, this planet had seen enough soldier’s fuel shed on his behalf. He was no longer a warlord, but Cybertron’s Protector, and he would do his new duty with as much vigor as he had the last.
His optics flicked up as a flurry of green appeared in his room. Even bringing Bumblebee along had its risks. If anything happened to his friend… Well. He wouldn’t permit anything to happen. “Bumblebee. Thank you for joining me.”






