Two.

[One.]

He couldn’t recall collapsing into recharge, but the onslaught of forced memory was still fresh in his helm, the audio as clear as if it had happened yesterday. He’d never seen that particular day from an outside perspective before, and now the exchange roiled in his tanks. The pain was fresh too, but dull compared to when he’d crashed, writhing, to the floor. 

At some point after his fit, Rex had come and lain his massive head on Megatron’s chest and the warlord lacked the energy to scold him for it. He scratched the old hound’s neck as he sat up, frame protesting from last night’s activity… No. If his chronometer was right, three days- cycles had passed since the dream. He should be much more sore, but moving almost seems easier now. Admittedly, he had been neglecting his rest. Rex rose with him and chuffed at the door’s keypad, asking to be let out.

With what he thought was a parting pat on the head, the warlord unlocked the door, but Rex merely plodded through and stopped, turning to stare at Megatron. He barked, the boom echoing through the halls. He barked again, taking a step down the hallway before barking a third time. 

“Stop that racket!” he barked back at Rex, making to grab at the canine’s haunch. Surprisingly quick, Rex dodged his master’s grip and barked again after running down the hallway. Megatron growled at the animal, infuriated by his sudden disobedience. Before he could disrupt work on the entire ship, the warlord ran after him. 

He chased the enormous hound through room after room and only after the third did he notice something stranger than Rex’s behavior. None of his soldiers were paying him any mind. Either of them: the barking beast or their mighty leader stomping after it. No one was even looking up. Finally he commanded their attention, pointing toward his unruly pet and shouting “Seal the doors, catch him!”

Nothing. The vehicons kept running their calculations, sipping energon or talking among themselves, unconcerned with the presence of their Lord. He unsheathed his sword, glaring as it drew no reaction from the vehicon he pointed it towards. Now suspicious, Megatron pointed it instead at Rex. “What have you done to me?”

Rex panted happily as he looked back up at Megatron, no different than he had ever appeared. He received no answer apart from another bark as the hound made his way through another door. Seeing no point to an alternative, Megatron followed, calmly this time.

The door he came out of was not the one he’d gone through. They were outside now, on the fringes of New Iacon, where Rex plodded through the sparsely populated streets. Every so often, he would pause and look into a window, and so Megatron felt this meant he should do the same. Each building out here was newly occupied, the residents of all factions taking time to make the meager apartments feel more like home. Posters and religious statues, foreign treasures collected on their time off-world.

Rex sat before the sixth house on the street, staring in on the first solitary mech they’d come across. “Datastream… why have you brought me here? She was the desperate Autobot who played at being my assassin. Is she not adjusting well?” His question dripped with obligatory interest. Of course she hated her situation, she had attempted violence to change it merely a year ago. The yellow Praxian had crudely removed her false Decepticon brands, but hadn’t replaced them with Autobot ones either. She sat in the bare room, weary optics closed, her servo resting on the old nameplate off of her ship.

Megatron sneered, unsurprised. “Am I supposed to pity her for being alone, for regretting her mistakes? She undermined my cause, attempted to-” A vehicon walked through him, unaffected by the presence of his invisible Lord. A golden mech accompanied him, and the warlord then recognized them as the medics that had traveled on the Black Halo with their former captain. Datastream leaped up when they knocked, obviously expecting them… and Megatron watched, dumbfounded, as they laughed together and helped her hang the nameplate from her ceiling. A visored helomech, still wearing his badges emerged from further within the home and wrapped his arms around her. 

Despite her treachery, despite her betrayal to not only the Decepticons but to her crew, they had accepted her back with open arms. They had moved on. Rex was staring at him, and Megatron did not need to guess why. Holding onto the pain of his hatred for so long had done nothing but cause more of it. Megatron glared down at his dog. “What is the point of this lesson? I cannot reconcile with my past as they have, not when the Autobots are scattered to the winds, not when Optimus is rusting in his grave! Thank you, for showing me what I could have had!” 

The warlord turned to leave, but once again found himself somewhere he hadn’t been a moment ago. He was atop a recently reconstructed tower, where Starscream stood, looking, for the first time in Megatron’s memory, peaceful. Megatron turned away and found himself facing a hallway on familiar ship, where a young femme, stripped of his paint, stomped in the opposite direction. With a frustrated growl, he exited to find a dim room where Soundwave stood at a console, though going by his many symbiotes, this one was not his own. In another whirl, he stood in a cavernous room, where a warm, blue light flickered at the center of a massive sphere that Megatron had to shield his optics from. When he looked back up, he was at an Earth roadstop, standing beside a familiar parked semi, looking as if it had been sitting there for quite some time.

Rex sat in front of him, tilting his helm. “… I understand.” There were still those he had wronged, those who had wronged him that could benefit from the release of the toxic hold of past grudges. He didn’t have to make the same mistake again. 

At his words, Rex stood on his hind legs, bracing himself on Megatron’s frame to lick at his face, much to the warlord’s chagrin. When he was finally able to push the beast away, they were back in his quarters, and his hound circled the berth for recharge. Megatron himself leaned heavily on his desk, feeling like he had when he’d set down his mining equipment for the last time:

Leaving a familiar world behind in favor of one much larger.

 ask-smokescreen:

“Haha- yeah, that’s even longer than me- But if you stepped in there any later, I might’ve had to fight you! I’m lucky you didn’t, to be honest.

I would’ve thought you would have been in here for the initial reconstruction, though. Kinda surprising!” Smokescreen’s looking back to give a grin, before continuing his own look around, poking around wherever he could.

Smokescreen’s probably giving a friendly wave at any of the eradicons around, thinking they’re staring at him. It couldn’t have been that rare to see Megatron, right? … Well, he hoped so. Maybe he needed to bother Megatron about checking places out more.

The jump in his step fades some as he sees the state of the floor with Alpha Trion’s personal study. “Guess- guess they haven’t gotten the chance to do much up here, right?” It looked horrible, though. Is this what it was like here when he got captured?

Still, once he’s entering Alpha Trion’s study, he’s getting right to opening any drawers he can, partially because Alpha Trion wouldn’t have let him do that, but also because he needs to make sure that it was truly checked thoroughly- he’ll even pat the space underneath the desk, and under any drawers, in hopes of finding some kind of secret note or something.

There’s got to be something from Alpha Trion, right?

Megatron huffed but made no comment about his apparent reluctance to come back to the Hall. Anything he could have said was already written in the scars gouged into the city from his battalion’s cannons.

The living quarters had of course been searched. Once long ago when they had sought out the ancient mech hiding here, and again when reconstruction began. Nothing the vehicons turned up, apart from some old journals, held any sort of interest to Megatron. He’d read through them all, and the only passages that held special significance had been in regards to Alpha Trion’s disapproval of his apprentice’s violent new companion. Those at least had made him laugh, but there were no coordinates hidden in coded words.

Coming here was a formality at this point. If two of his squadrons couldn’t find anything, surely nothing would come of this search… but it would nag at him if he didn’t check himself. Smokescreen had been given one of the Omega Keys after all, so Alpha Trion may have-

image

As soon as Smokescreen’s servo hit the desk, the former cadet’s badge began to flash red. The strobing Autobot symbol was mirrored on the old, cracked screen, eventually speeding up to a solid glow. Smokescreen’s name appeared below the image. Megatron ran to the console, gripping the cadet’s shoulder as he stared at the screen. This computer had been wiped when they’d checked it…

“What did you- try something else! What do you have access to?”

One.

Megatron stood in the corner of a dark room, unsure of how he’d gotten there. He looked around, struck with a vague sense of familiarity; he’d been before, surely, but the edges of his vision were blurred. Had he been drugged perhaps? Reaching for the light, the sound of voices approaching made him freeze. “No…”

The door opened, his own frame silhouetted in the light of the hallway. A much younger Megatron stormed inside, throwing himself at the nearest table to cling to the edge with his optics squeezed shut. Orion Pax was not far behind him, but wisely kept his distance. “I don’t want to see this,” the present Megatron admitted to whatever had brought him here.

‘Megatronus, the threat of force-’

‘My name is Megatron,’ snarled his younger self, ‘and that is the only thing that will make the high castes listen to us! You’re playing into their hand, Orion! If you think compromise and politics-’

‘You have to see things from their side as well! They will work with us if we stand together and work for change, but a revolution will only be met with more violence. They will not work with-’

‘With me. That is what you’re thinking, isn’t it?’

‘Megatron, please…’ Orion backed away as the gladiator threw a chair against the opposite wall, but his expression was stern, measured, and all to familiar. The silent observer found he couldn’t turn away. “Stop this…”

‘I am the symbol of all that’s about to come crashing down around them, I will not compromise to spare them the pain of what they’ve done to us for millenia! I will not yield simply because the reality of the situation is ugly to them! They will be held accountable!’ His old self bellowed and slammed his fist down onto the table, leaving a sizable dent.

‘You can’t be serious… there are innocent mechs who will empathize if we show them the truth. What you’re calling for is war! We cannot-!’

‘We?! You made your true alliance all too clear today, when you stole my audience with the council, when you made them disregard us as a threat to their standing! I will not be denied!’ Megatron’s younger self drew his blade, a crazed anger flooding his wide optics. Only now did Orion seem to realize he was trapped in a room with a mech who had killed so many others. He took another step back, this time out of fear.

“No more!!” The old warlord cried out but no one could hear him, the ancient scene playing out as it had so many times in his disturbed dreams.

‘Don’t… Brother, please…’ The ghost of Megatron’s past swung back and drove his blade deep into the wall beside Orion’s helm. 

‘Leave me. If you will not stand by my side, then GET OUT!! I WILL HAVE MY REVOLUTION WITH OR WITHOUT YOU!’ Orion’s optics were wide with hurt. Neither of them moved while Megatron’s vision began to fill with static, his lines pumping liquid lead. Everything burned, he couldn’t move, couldn’t hear, his vents clicked uselessly as his core temperature climbed. When they were little more than silhouettes, the smaller mech reached up to him, said something unintelligible, and left. 

When Megatron awoke, he tried to get off the berth, but doubled over in pain and clattered onto the floor. He grimaced and thrashed, sucking in as much cooling air as he could, core still much too hot from the unnatural writhing of his spark. Rex whined from his place on the floor, hesitant to approach until his master finally began to still, exhausted and finally at an easily regulated temperature. 

His helm fell back against the floor with a light ‘tnk’, optics shutting out the light as if they could shut out the overplayed memory files.

“No more…”

PICK ONE OF YOUR MUSES.
 FILL IN THE QUESTIONS/STATEMENTS AS IF YOU ARE BEING INTERVIEWED FOR AN ARTICLE AND YOU WERE YOUR MUSE.
 TAG PEOPLE TO DO THIS MEME. Do this meme if you feel like it!

((From the-scrappy-stinger))

▌What is your name?


Megatron.

▌What is your real name?

That is my name.

▌Do you know why you were called that?

I took my name from Megatronus Prime.

▌Are you single or taken?

What an idiotic way to put it. “Taken” I suppose.

▌Have any abilities or powers? 


Transformation and command over those afflicted with Dark Energon should be considered ‘powers’. However, I do not need to further prove myself to anyone- my abilities will speak for themselves.

▌Stop being a mary sue/gary stu

I am neither.

▌What’s your eye color?

Blue. For now.

▌How about your hair color?

*Pointed glaring*

▌Have you any family members?


No. We do not generally work that way.

▌Oh? What about pets?

*glances to Rex, the gigantic cyberhound napping at his side.*

No. A companion, perhaps.

▌That’s cool, I guess. Now tell me about something you don’t like.

*chuckling* How long do you have?

▌Do you have any hobbies/activities you like to do?

I can’t say that I have time for any hobbies. Running a planet tends to take priority.

▌Ever hurt anyone before?


…Are you aware of the events of the last, say, four million years or so?

▌Ever… killed anyone before?

You really don’t have any idea who I am, do you?

▌What kind of animal are you?

I am a Cybertronian, not any organic creature!

▌Name some of your worst habits.


Impatience.

▌Do you look up to anyone at all?

…In a way.

▌Gay, straight, or bisexual?

No.

▌Do you go to school?

No.

▌Do you ever want to marry and have kids one day?


I cannot, and so I will not.

▌Do you have any fanboys/fangirls?

Apparently in each species.

▌What are you most afraid of?

I’ll tell you when I come across it.

▌What do you usually wear?

My fusion cannon.

▌Do you love someone?

Yes.

▌When was the last time you wet yourself?

…Last I checked, it was not ‘Sunday’ on Earth.

▌What class are you?


Mining unit Class A, with various military-grade and flight-capable upgrades.

▌How many friends do you have?

Those I have are close. The number doesn’t matter.

▌What are your thoughts on pie?

I have yet to try one.

▌Favorite drink?

…Hot Tarnish high-grade.

▌What’s your favorite place?

At the moment, the flight deck of the Nemesis. From our stationary position, the glow of each of the newly rebuilt colonies can be seen at night.

▌Are you into someone~?

I should hope that I was “into” my conjunx.

▌What’s your bra cup/size and/or how big is your willy?

Enough! *Megatron gets up to leave, while the interviewers attempt to win back his interest.*

▌Would you rather swim in the lake or in the ocean?

*At this point, Megatron has evaded the interviewers. The rest of the questions are answered by the mun, who may or may not be wildly exaggerating.*

▌What’s your type? 


((Basically anyone who it’d be interesting to fight would be interesting to frag. Huge powerhouse mechs, lithe and quick mechs, clever mechs that can match his wit. Even better if it’s a combination of those! He’s more interested in individuals than frametypes.))

▌Any fetishes?


((Idk if it’s exactly a fetish but he gets really turned on by the noises he’s able to draw out of his partner, like knowing that he’s giving them pleasure makes it his too. He’s got a few more but that’s all you’re gonna get fer now))

▌Seme or uke? Top or bottom? Dominant or submissive?

((AHAHAHAHA. I think this one’s mostly obvious. On the rare occassions that he might bottom, he still insists on being in control- except in very, very specific situations.))

▌Camping or indoors?

((He likes being outdoors, even if he’s used to being enclosed.))

▌Are you wanting the quiz to end?

((Considering he’s gone…))