It seemed as if decacycles had passed since Megatron had heard anything from the reclusive engineer, but with Shockwave now worlds away, he was in need of any scientist he could get his claws on. A short summons was sent along the engineer’s commlink, leaving Megatron to pace on the upper deck of the complex. If his actions seem predatory, it’s entirely subliminal. That has simply become his nature.
Hopefully Wanderer respects vehicons, mused the warlord. For his and K3’s sake.
Everything was fitting together, the clock ticking nearer to their assault. There was nothing left to plan, and Megatron found himself looking farther ahead into the future. What would be the next course of action once they had finally won? When the dust settled, the Cybertronian race would hang on his every action, every word. It was an exhilarating thought.
But it was so easy to get lost in the big picture. The details needed attention. What would become of his chain of command? Where would they rebuild first? How would Autobot refugees be dealt with? And what of his promise to Soundwave? These and countless other questions spun in his helm, and he needed a quiet place to think.
Donning the tattered cloak he had used to hide his shape, Megatron ascended to the roof of the complex and sat with his back to a vent, looking out at his future reign.
That empty grin, dripping with fluorescent violet. Every crevice of that broken frame, a mirror of his own, illuminated- all but the gaping crevice in its chest, which remained completely black. Hollow. And yet he heard himself laugh, and saw himself crawl closer, reaching out…
Megatron starts awake, reflexes forcing him to try and sit up but his wounds forcing him back down again. Calm down. It wasn’t real. This ship was real. He was alive, not that monster. He’d been given another energon drip. What had been spilled earlier had been cleaned up and was likely being fed back into his fuel lines. The color of the energon does not remind him of Unicron, however…
“… Soundwave.”
His voice was still weak, but the static was mostly gone. Recharging had done its work despite the visions. He found that focusing his optics was easier now as well, and searched the room for that familiar dark shape.
The flight back to New York starts out as a quiet one. There were few places where Max was afforded true privacy, and thousands of feet in the air on a jet of his own with a preoccupied pilot paid not to ask questions was one such place. He relaxed into the seat, turning over thoughts of the day’s events in his mind… But the one most prevalent when watching his assistant jot down notes was something that hadn’t actually happened.
That apologetic look on her face before…
Max shook his head free of the image, but couldn’t stop himself from watching her more often than usual.
All too often, business required the CEO to travel to his offices across the country. Though he had plants in Nevada and Ohio, distribution offices peppered the states, and it seemed that something was going wrong with at least one of them at all times. Most of the time, things could be settled with a phone call or email, but it was occasionally necessary for Max to be there in person. This was one such occasion.
He hadn’t been to Detroit in a long while. They rarely needed his personal help here, but this was one of those rare moments. Max had initially been annoyed at the dent in his schedule… but after double-checking a forwarding address, he put up very little resistance.
After business had been taken care of, he found himself at a suburban address, standing before the modest house with a familiar semi truck parked at its side. Heh. Cecilia stands by the car, watching the street for any suspicious activity. Max walks up to the door, hesitating for what seemed like an eternity before getting up the resolve to knock.
Megatron glares at the console screen. Wanderer still hadn’t reported in with his progress and yet he saw fit to contact Soundwave. The Decepticon warlord was not a patient mech, especially when he felt that he was being cheated. He had begun to suspect that the scientist had run off; at least this was not the case.
He activates the comm link.
“Wanderer. I will be checking in on the lab in a few cycles. I would like to see what has been keeping you so busy.”
Megatron didn’t know why he’d agreed to this. It could only end badly. But in his alternate’s universe, not only was Cybertron still in-tact, he was not quite yet a wanted mech. Theoretically, apart from his own ship, there was no safer place to be. That wasn’t the issue here.
Offered sparkday drinks by his former self. It sounded like some kind of metaphor, but there it was. And why not? He was proud of his accomplishments this past stellar cycle. Currently the Decepticons sat on top of the world. Why not have a night to celebrate?
The warlord left the Nemesis is Soundwave’s more than capable servos and enter the coordinates given to him that would take him to a familiar place on a familiar planet to meet that eerily familiar face. He stepped through the ground bridge to a Cybertron of long ago.
Megatron's back up 