Episode 6: All Hail Lord Megatron

All Characters belong to Hasbro and Cartoon Network.


Four Billion Stellar Cycles ago... Kaon, Cybertron... The Decepticon Gladiatorial Arena.

Loud roars of a crowd began to echo throughout a small dark, damp escalator. Inside the room laid a large Gray and Red Mech that had a War-Built Protoform, who was currently sitting dirty on the floor chained up from wrist to ankle. His fingers fidgeted with the chain tied tightly on his wrist, analyzing it curiously...


The dust began to fall from the ceiling above him, leaving his Red Optics to gaze up at the noise, hearing the crowd roaring from above. Then the elevator door opened, leaving the Large Cybertronian Flighter Model to cover his Optics from the brightness of the light.

"Gladiator D-679. You have been chosen for the next battle up top in the Arena." The Autobot said in a monotone voice as he dropped a bunch of gear onto the ground. "You're up in three minutes."

A bright light emitted from the chains, then they were detached from the War Mech Build's Servos and Pedes, allowing him some expanded movement as the Mech groaned softly.

"Come on, move it! You've got a Fight to finish, let's go!"

The Mech slowly, but calmly got up on his Pedes, rubbing on his wrists before turning to the Autobot in front of him. Tilting his head sideways to stretch out his inner wiring, the Mech known as D-679 marched himself over to the elevator.

"This is Guard 50, D-679 is on his way over to the Arena."

"Hurry it up! My audience is growing weary, and I don't intend to lose a large amount of credits I'm stockpiling in my bank account!"

"Right away, Megazarak."

D-679 walked inside and stood in the elevator as the guard pressed a button to raise them upward, moving them up towards the surface while the Gladiator just stood with a low expression on his Faceplate.

"...Where's my weapon?" The Gladiator asked with a rough voice.

"You aren't going to the Armory today. Megazarak wants you to find your own weapon lying out in the Arena."

"Do you know who I am fighting?"

"You'll find that out soon as you hit the dirt floor, slave." The doors opened up in front of D-679. "Now get your Skidplates out there and fight. You win this round, you get a Berth for the rest of the Solar Cycle, and some raw Energon as a bonus if you go for the Kill."

D-679 walked out of the elevator as the guard stood behind him. "I suppose this means the same goes for my opponent as well?"

"That's for you and your Fighter to figure out." The guard turned to see a defeated Mech bring dragged towards the elevator as they moved past D-679. "Have fun on your day in the Pits."

D-679 stood as he heard the door shut from behind him, hearing the elevator lift itself down to another level of the Arena. From that point, the Mech walked down towards a narrow tunnel where a light generated from the end of the passageway, with noises vibrating from a loud crowd.

And the light began to appear brighter and brighter with every step closer towards the end... Until at last, he reached his destination point, and his Optics are well adjusted to the visuals of the Arena he has stepped inside of, seeing pieces of Cybertronian Metal lying all over the ground as well as a loose Leg just sitting right in front of his Pedes.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the Arena, for our next match, I present to you one of our finest, most brutal fighters I can ever hope to present! Of all the contestants, this one is the most cunning, most skilled, and most brutal fighter of them all! But watch out, I hear he eats Protoforms for Breakfast, especially the Autobot kind, haha! Citizens of Kaon, I give you, D-679!"

D-679 scoured the Arena for the few scattered weapons that laid idle on the surface. He soon came across a Mace that was laced with splattered Energon, picking it up in his hand as he knelt down on his knees while the door to the tunnel on the opposite side of his position began to open.

"And in this corner, we have one Slag of a fighter we could ever witness! This oversized Cybertronian is obnoxious, short-tempered, but packs quite the Poke! So viewer beware; I wouldn't want to be caught being on his bad side! Mechs and Femmes, I present this ill-tempered Lugnut to you, D-207!"

And so the figure emerged from inside the tunnel as a familiar Purple and Green Cyclops came out with scratches all over his armor, which glinted with the light shining on them both as D-679 turned his Optics over to his Opponent.

"ARRGH, get off me, you barbarians!" The Mech known as D-207 growled as the guards who escorted him struggled to get him under control.

"Hey, watch it! This one's been starved from Energon for four Deca-Cycles!"

"Look out!"

D-207 roared as he tugged against his restraints hard enough that one of the guards tripped forward, loosening his hold on the Purple Mech. Taking advantage, the Decepticon flung the poor Mech up in the air to swing at all the rest, knocking them all out, saved for last when the savage Gladiator grabbed the guard's Pede and slammed him onto the ground several times before throwing him halfway across the Arena, ripping off the leg in the process.

And so, the guard fell in front of D-679's Pedes, lying with a severe injury as his Red Optics turned over to glance at the one singular Optic, one that still held primal, animalistic rage while the audience applauded his own carnage.

"Wow, see what I meant, folks? Somebody better call in those doctors from Praxus, they sure could give their students the training!" Megazarak sighed as he stood away from the microphone, pressing his finger on the very top as he turned his head around to face a guard who was quite skilled in Combat. "...Onslaught, tell me why my guards had difficulty maintaining the prisoner?"

"Apologies, lord Megazarak." Onslaught apologized while he bowed solemnly. "I shall seek out the source for this, "Accident" and make them answer to you."

"You better, unless you want me to cut all your Energon rations to another quarter for not only making me have to pay the hospital fees but an embarrassment to my upcoming Autobot guests."

Onslaught pressed a fist on his chest before making his exit, leaving a disgruntled Megazarak alone to shut his Optics so he could recenter himself... Then with open Optics, he reapplied the humble facade with a smile as he moved his hand off of the mic.

"Alright then... Who wants to see a fight?" The crowd roared in excitement. "You want to see a fight?"


"Do you want to see a fight?!"


"Great! So do I!" Megazarak leaned back and pressed a button, causing both doors to D-679 and D-207's tunnels to close. "Let the match BEGIN!"

Fireworks shot up in the air as the crowd applauded the two Gladiators to fight as D-679 held onto his Mace tightly, seeing D-207 huffing and puffing towards his opponent. The two just stared at each other for only a brief second until the Purple Cyclops charged first, growling with fury.


D-679 didn't scream, didn't flinch, didn't even move an Optic. All he did was simply hold his ground as he pressed one Pede back, extending the Mace in his hand.


The Gray Mech's Black metallic fingers lifted slightly off the handle as he anticipated the inevitable, analyzing his opponent's movements.


With one inhalation, D-679 took in an Intake, inhaling through his nose as his Optics just stared, seeing D-207 charging closer and closer to his location.


At that moment, just when D-207 raised his Servos up to crush his fellow Gladiator's head down, D-679 swiftly jumped to the right, allowing the Cyclops to slam his fist to the ground, blowing the sand in the air while swinging his Mace onto the back of the Purple Mech's Helm.


D-207 crashed to the dirt surface as the crowd roared at the hype, seeing how D-679 maneuvered the attack swiftly with success.

"Ooh, that has got to hurt!"

The Purple Mech growled, turning his sights back towards D-679 as he moved to stand back up. "Spineless coward! Hitting me once won't save your precious Spark!"

"I wasn't counting on it." The Gray Warbuild replied as he swing his Mace a couple of times in the air. "Now come at me, but keep it at a steady pace instead of just charging at me like a bull."

"Foolish Mech, do not tell me how to fight! I am not some lowly servant, let alone yours!"

The Lugnut roared as he pounded on the wall behind him, making some audience members stumble from their seats quaking underneath them while the Gladiators brawled against each other, others continue to cheer for the two to fight to the death.

D-207 makes the brash offense, fighting his opponent with his bare Servos, and with no weapon on hand as D-679 defended himself with swift grace, until the Gray Mech eventually tried to counter back, only for the Purple Giant to grab him by the Servo and face butt him, jab him hard in the stomach plate, knocking him down, earning a loud reaction from the crowds above.

D-679 groaned, pressing a hand against his stomach before turning his sights back to D-207, gritting his teeth while holding the Mace in his hand. With one swing, he made a sharp hook to the right side of D-207's Jawline, knocking out some metal off, letting the scraps fall down onto the ground while the crowd encouraged the battle to continue on.

"Hit him again!"

"Ooh, hit him in the Pede! Swipe the Pede!"

"Rip his Optics out!"

"For Frag's sakes, use the POKE! We wanna see the POKE!"

The two Gladiators brawled against each other while spectators cheered for their bloodbath, enticed to see death spilled on the surface as D-207 and D-679 growled at each other, hit each other, even yelled at each other until eventually, the two met a stalemate.

Both of their armor platings have been extremely dented, cracked, and dirtied as they both stood on opposite sides of each other, panting. Then D-207 growled, using one of his hands to slide into their inner Servo, replacing it with a shiny Red Button...

And in a split second, D-207 raised that Servo up, slamming that Button onto the nearest solid surface when Black Hands caught the Servo. The Button just inches away from D-679's Faceplate as he gritted his teeth, feeling the Cyclops press his limb towards his face.




The crowd rose the noise while Megazarak sat on his chair, acting amused as he watched D-679 force himself on his knees while the Purple Mech pressed forward, moving the button closer towards his face...

...When the Gray Mech quickly maneuvered himself away from the Button, turning himself around so he could wrap both Servos tightly around the Cyclops' limb and pull it right out off with his own bare hands.


The Purple Cyclops screamed as he pulled himself back, feeling the loss of his Servo as D-679 grunted, standing on his feet, holding the ripped off limb in his hands to swing it right at the Gladiator's face, knocking him back as D-207 fell right on his back.


The crowd fell silent as the Purple Mech fell in battle, stunned at the sudden change of events before a positive uproar rose in the air, having spread their cheer over to D-679, who was the obvious victor of the match.

"That was brutal!"

"That Mega-Glorious!"

"Look at that Megatron go!"

"Yo, Megatron! Megatron! Megatron!"





The crowds chanted their applause for D-679, having been dubbed as Megatron as he stood by, looking around at how much the people have worshipped him for his triumph over his opponent.

"F... Finish it."

D-679 turned around, hearing the Cyclops whisper his whimpered words from the ground.

"They... They're waiting for you... To kill me... As they waited for me to kill you."

D-679 looked down on D-207 before looking up at Megazarak, who was seen having his hands clasped together. His leader anticipating a killing blow upon a beaten Mech for his own amusement.

Then the Gray and Red Gladiator glanced back at his beaten opponent, having grabbed at the Mace once again as he held it in his hands, hearing the crowd chant as they eagerly await for him to finish off D-207 for good.




D-679 breathed in through his Intake as he did before, with his mouth shut as his Optics looked down on D-207, raising the mace up in the air. Then as he breathed out, he let out a battle-ready shout while swinging the Mace downward towards the Cyclops' head.


...Everything fell silent as D-679 let the Mace go, standing back as D-207 remained to Function, turning his Eye to see the weapon land right next to his own head. And that resulted in a gravely disappointed crowd.

"Aw, come on!"


"Why isn't he dead yet?!"

"Where did the Megatron personality go?"

"What is this supposed to be?"

"Dammit, I want my Refund!"

"Chicken Slag!"

D-679 sighed as he sat on the ground, waiting to be taken away as Megazarak sat on his throne unamused, pressing a button on his wrist.

"Get these two ingrates out of my sights."

The tunnels began to open up as guards began to turn and approach the two tired fighters as D-207 stared at the Mech who spared his life, all while D-679 remained silent, letting his Optics stare at the ground.

D-679's Optics stared at the ground, resting his head before rising up to mine the Energon that is enriched deep within Cybertron's surface as he and the other Decepticons continue to work tirelessly.

"679, over here!"

D-679 turned his Optics around, seeing a fellow Con calling him out as he turned to assist the Mech in shipping out Energon in carts.

"Thanks, that's a weight off my back."

"I'm just doing my job. Come, I wish to come back home by the end of this Shift."

"Amen to that, Brother."

D-679 and the other Con turned to resume work as they grabbed their mining tools and carried on back to work. It was all part of his, and his fellow workers' Programming. It was a part of his daily routine, to mine Energon, and help serve the people of Cybertron.

At least, the Autobot part of Cybertron. D-679 knew that was part of his role all too well.

But what could he do about it? Write a complaint?

As D-679 turned to face his spot in the Energon Caverns, he used his Pick Axe and stabbed at the wall hard, swinging with tireless energy until Energon began to spill on his Faceplate, causing him to stumble back as his fellow miners had noticed that small setback.

"D-679? Are you alright?"

"Slag, don't tell me we have another accident!"

"I'm fine, it was nothing." D-679 waved a hand away at the miners. "I just have spilled Energon all over my Faceplate, there is nothing to worry about, really."

"It'd better be just an Energon spill, and not none of them Sonic Radiation Slag, or else our wages are gonna get cut down all over again! And I need the retirement fund!"

"Hey, 343, don't you got somewhere else to be right now?"

D-343 muttered something incoherent under his breath as he turned to walk away from D-679, much to 679's friend's relief.

"Don't mind him, 679. He's really looking forward to that retirement fund."

"For what, 898?" D-679 asked as he grabbed a piece of cloth to wipe the Energon off his face. "As far as I tell, we're all stuck here for the rest of our own lives."

"I hope not. I hear Megazarak's comin' over to visit, and he's bringing a Prime along with him. From Iacon of all places!"

"What would an Autobot want from us? They have no taste for these Energon Mines for what I'm told."

"Who knows what that Prime here for? I mean, if he and Megazarak's talking, then maybe we can finally see some real changes around here, like for starters... I'd like to have my own Designation for crying out loud!"

"What's wrong with the Number? I thought D-898 suited you best."

"Is that supposed to be a joke?"


"Ew, please, stop. Jokes aren't your forte."

The two Miners returned to work once D-679 had scrubbed any leftover Energon off his Faceplate, picking up where they left off.

"I mean it, 679. All these Autobots in their Big Cities talk about how Freedom is the Right of all Sentient Beings, or whatever, and we have rights, don't we? We should get an equal share of the Energon that's mined here, choose to make our own decisions, to make our own Energon Farm, to live in a Planet of our own if we had the Credits to do it!" D-898 turned to face D-679 as they both swung their Axes against the wall. "Come on, don't tell me you haven't thought about having a Designation, not once?"

D-679 didn't return the gaze to his fellow co-worker. "Let us get through the day, my friend. Our shift is almost complete."

The two continued on with their work, eventually reaching the hour of completion as they joined with their fellow workers in their elevator ride back to the surface. Once they arrived, they attempted to go to their following routine after work, which most likely involves a Berth and their daily ration of Energon that are rewarded to each Miner upon the end of the Solar Cycle.

At least, that is what D-679 assumed when a group of Autobot Troopers had come right in front of them, preventing them from returning to their homes.

"All members of Mining Shift Team 6102007, you are required to come with us to the Assembly. Megazarak commands it so."

The miners began to grow befuddled at the abrupt news as D-679 and D-898 were among the confused Cybertronian workers.

"Is everything alright?" D-898 asked politely as the Autobot Troopers held no expression no thanks in due part to their Visors and Masks, concealing their expressions from the Miners.

"Any questions that you have will be answered at the Assembly. Now, come along."

"...The Prime," D-679 said aloud, stepping forward from his team. "Is he here?"

"You're standing outside your line, D-679," The Trooper spoke demeaningly, holding his hand on the trigger of his Blaster Rifle. "Return to your designated range."

D-679's Optics noticed how much the Autobot before him had tightened his Blaster, noticed just how ready he was to use it unjustly. But D-898 turned and pulled him back just before he could even make a response.

"Hey, sorry about our friend here! He got a little carried away, he just had a long Solar Cycle's worth of work today."

"Be sure to keep him in his place, now come along." The Autobots turned around and let the Miners follow them to the Assembly despite their perturbed facial reactions about how one of them almost pulled a firearm upon one of their own.

"D-679, you okay?" D-898 asked as D-679's Optics remained fixated on the Trooper that he spoke to earlier.

"...That Autobot was going to shoot me."

"No, he wasn't."

"Didn't you see it?" D-679's voice tone hissed as he gritted his teeth. "He was Nano-Clicks away from putting me Offline, all for asking a simple question!"

"Come on, every Autobot Trooper carries a Blaster on them at all times. And not that I'm trying to take sides here, but some people are still a little on edge with what happened back on Talos IV. That, and you did step out of our line back there, you know how contagious it is for a Mech to come out of the Caverns without being Decontimated from any raw materials? We could have had another Sonic Boom incident on our hands."

"None of it justifies what that Autobot almost tried to do to me."

"Hey, keep your voice down, Bot! Let's just get to the Assembly to figure out what we're in for, and then we can go back home, easy peasy, Energon squeezy."

Soon, the Miners arrived in a large crowd that have gathered before a stage, which amassed by the hundreds, much to D-679's dismay.

"898... How many of us are gathered here?"

"By the AllSpark, I'd say this is everyone that works here!" D-898 responded as he turned his Helm left and right around the area."Slag, half these Bots are supposed to be back home by now."

"Attention, attention, all Miners! Decepticon Leader, Megazarak is here, demanding your immediate attention!"

Both friends turned their heads up at the voice of the Leader of the Decepticons as they saw him stand above them on stage.

"Greetings, my fellow Cons. I bring you a special guest that comes from the Great Halls of Iacon. Surely many of you have heard of the great Decimus Prime himself, yes?"

A murmur from the crowd was made when the name was dropped, causing a bit of a commotion as D-679 turned to glance over at D-898.

"Didn't you say that there was a Prime coming to visit?"

"Yeah... I never expected him to be arriving this soon..."

"Right, well if we are through with the chit chat, I think it'd be wise if we would give it up for Decimus himself!"

Megazarak stepped back, clapping his hands as the Autobot Prime consisting of a mostly Green color scheme as his smile was seen etched across his face.

"Hey, what's up, guys? How's work?" Decimus asked as the crowd groaned out exhausted moans. "Oh, tiresome? Yeah, I'll bet. Any accidents today? Wait, nobody answer that, I'll get back to you on that..." Decimus turned to Megazarak. "How many days have there been without an accident so far?"

"3,652,50, at the very least."

"Ooh, a thousand Stellar Cycles, not bad." Decimus clicked on his tongue while turning back to the crowd. "Not bad at all, feather me impressed! But still, it stresses everybody out, huh?"

The crowd agreed while D-679 stared openly observant.

"Well, that's okay, it's normal to feel that way. But you know what else is also okay? Not having to feel that way anymore because surprise surprise, Mega-Z and I have been talking, and we're making some changes around here."

The crowd began to cheer up a bit as the word change began to put everyone's hopes up, as shown in D-898's expression.

"Well, I'll be darned!" D-898 said as he lightly punched his Servo against 679's shoulder. "It's about time we've had some raises around here!"

D-679 said nothing as he listened closely to the Autobot's speech.

"Alright, everybody sounds excited, that's great! I'm excited too, even Mega-Z, even he's a bit too shy to admit it." Decimus quipped while Megazarak just folded his Servos. "Now, moving on to our topic, I'd like to say that the Autobot Council recognizes the harsh conditions that every worker endures to supply every Cybertronian with Energon. And as you must already know by now; the Hub has been facing challenges, and as per usual, we like a challenge. So starting today, we'd like to streamline the Mines, and what I mean by that is from this point on, all the hard work you've been doing for your whole lives, will come to an end."

At that moment, the crowd's tone began to change... And not for the better.

"As I've said before; the Council recognizes the contributions you have made, and we are truly grateful for every single one of you. But given the conditions, we have decided that we shall be relocating each of you into a new workplace, at least, after we put each of you through the Decepticon Registration Act, at the very least. So yeah, I meant what I said; this will be your last time working at Mine C-12."

Once the Prime had confirmed everyone's suspicions, the crowd began to roar in disarray as blatant cries of disapproval have been made heard in the air.

"Last time? What the Pit?!"

"This Mine is our home!"

"You can't do this!"

"What about our Wages?"

"What about our Retirement Funds?!"

"I don't believe this," D-898 said under his breath. "I thought these were good changes, not... Big changes. A lot of Bots relied a lot on these Mines, especially for the long game."

"That's what we get for being hopeful, isn't it?" D-679 said as he stared at the Prime's Green Visor.

"Now, now, guys! It's okay! I know that some of you are upset, but don't worry! There will be New Assignments! After all, Cybertron takes care of its' people-!"

"YOU SMUG-FACED FRAG!" One of the Cons had thrown oil at the Prime, causing a riot to be made as the workers began to fight against a group of Autobot Troopers.




"Whoa, hey, guys!" The Autobot Prime raised his hands up. "Calm down, I'm not finished-!"

"Stand down, all of you!" Megazarak stepped in, raising his fist in the air, but he was not on the people's side as they shouted at him too.



"This is starting to get ugly here..." D-898 said as D-679 finally turned to glance over at him. "Come on, we should go-AHH!"

D-898 fell onto the ground as an Autobot shoved him with a baton, making D-679 widen his Optics, concerned for his friend while Decimus took notice of that.

"Hey, HEY! That was uncalled for!"

"Just trying to do my job, sir!" The Autobot Trooper said though Decimus did not agree.

"To keep the peace, not to tick everyone off!"

"Get your Autobots under control!" Megazarak warned as Decimus turned around, but just as he did so, one of the Miners pulled out an Energy Pike to swing it right at the Prime's shoulder, inflicting heavy damage as he fell onto the ground.


Things took a turn for the worse as the riot grew into a street brawl. The Autobot Trooper that attacked D-898 had tackled D-679 right where he stood, but that only pushed him back as the Gray Mech's height was much bigger than the Autobots, therefore using it as an advantage as he grabbed the Trooper by the Helm and body-slammed him onto the ground.

Enraged, D-679 turned to tower over the Autobot, only for the Trooper to pull out a rifle, much to the Mech's dismay.

"Stand down! Don't make me-!"

"Shoot?!" D-679 finished as he kicked the gun off without a struggle. "You would dare to shoot me while I'm Unarmed?!"

D-679 began to punch the Autobot hard, hard enough to make his Visor break. But that wasn't enough for him. No, three hits weren't enough. Anger clouded his judgment as he felt the urge to finish it as the Gray Mech's hands raised themselves up with tightened fists. Rage consumed him much so that he did not notice D-898's plea as he raised a Servo up while his stomach faced the ground.

"679, no!"

"Wait, please-!"



...Any sound that vibrated in the open air had become drowned out, replaced with ringing as blood had been splattered, and Autobots and Decepticons brawled against each other in a riot.

The only sound that was left was D-679's breathing as his Optics were left in a trance. A trance that could only be made out from a traumatic shock as D-679's hands shook, with Energon spilled from his Servos. His Optics fixated on the blood of a Cybertronian in his own hands.

"...no. Oh no."

The Mech rose from his waist, shuddering at the sight of what he has committed.

"What... Did I do?"


A hand pulled him off from the ground, breaking him out of his trance as D-679 turned to look at his friend, D-898.

"Hey, we need to leave! They're getting ready to shoot us-!"


Blaster fire was sounded as the crowd began to be decimated by the sheer force of the Autobots' firepower, causing a great number of casualties in their wake, with D-898 being one of them as D-679 had seen his friend's head getting shot right off.

As soon as D-898 fell, so too did D-679 as his corpse had dropped right on top of his entire being, shielding him from the line of sight while everyone else was almost eviscerated from the blaster fire, with the crowd being man slaughtered.


The blast fire had stopped, and the Autobots had stood before a pile of Offline Shells as some Autobot reinforcements arrived, with a young Warpath arriving on the scene as he checked up on the Prime.

"What the Slag is going on here? I can smell the Burnt Energon nearly a mile before we came!" Warpath demanded answers as the Troopers that remained behind turned to the Red Autobot.

"There was a Riot, it was getting out of hand. We've had to deploy the Pacifism Protocol..."

"On an Unarmed group of Civilians?!"

"We had to, sir! They would have killed us all, they already killed one of us as it is."

Warpath turned to look, seeing the Offline Shell of an Autobot Trooper with whatever remains of his Helm.

"Primus, almighty... This isn't good." Warpath turned around, facing the Autobots that opened fire on the crowd. "Alright, I want each and every one of you that fired a single shot to put your Cogs right into the Shuttle. We're gonna have a discussion with Autobot Command about this. And somebody get a body bag for that soldier down there, I want him going home getting funeral treatments. The same goes for everyone else that was killed here."

"There's no need for that, lieutenant," Megazarak said as he approached Warpath. "This incident is on me. I should have known better, and now I do. I will not make the same mistakes I have done before, I shall clean up this mess myself."

"Fine... But I'm taking our Soldier back home with us if that's alright with you."

"As you wish, Autobot. As you wish." Megazarak replied as he turned his back against Warpath while he turned to face the injured Decimus Prime.

"Sir, are you alright?" A Red Autobot with a turret sticking out of his Chestplate asked as he tended to the Prime's wounds, who looked out into the crowd, horrified at what transpired.

"...It wasn't supposed to be like this." Decimus moaned as he lay on his back. "None... None of this was supposed to end this way..."

The Autobot Prime had his wounds tended while the Decepticon Leader tended to the dead... From there, he walked over the corpses, seeing hardly a sign of life left until he noticed one of the Decepticons holding some color left.

At that moment, Megazarak had kicked the Shell that once used to be D-898, off of a still shaken D-679, whose Optics just stared out into the open as the Leader just looked down with no pity.

"You're alive... Good." Megazarak mused as he bent down on his knees, pressing his hand on D-679's chin. "There may be some use for you yet."


D-679 gasped as he felt the Energon splattered on his own face, nearly blinding his Optics as the guards towered over him while he was brought to his knees.

"You fought well at the Arena, Slag face. Frag, you even managed to sway the entire audience to your side, including Megazarak almost... Until you decided to let the ugly Lug continue to Function."

D-679 coughed as he raised his brow at the Guard. "You said... Killing him would have gotten me Energon, as an extra."

"Oh, you stupid Bot. Did that Cyclops hit you on the Processor too much? Or do you simply not know the rules around here?"

"If someone tells you there are extras involved, that usually means do what you're told."

"And you didn't! So here we are, you ugly piece of Scrap."

D-679 raised his head up, only to let out a scream as a shock prod was jammed right into his stomach plates, bending him on his knees as he growled through the pain.

"Since you disappointed the Higher Up, your ration exchange is herby forfeit for a whole Deca-Cycle. Have fun getting starved, idiot."

The Autobots in charge left before the last one turned and spat right on top of his Helm, leaving him to rot as D-679 was left alone in the dark damp cell...

...Or at least, he thought he was when there was a tap on the wall to his right.

"...Go... Away..."

There was silence at first. A silence that the Gray Decepticon Mech was more than welcome to. But then, the top of the wall began to generate noise, and with a plop on the floor, D-679 lowered his eyes, turning them to find a fresh Energon Cube just sitting right where it landed.

"I heard what they said about your Energon privileges being stripped. You can have mine."

D-679 tilted his brow, having had been offered something by one of his fellow prisoners for the first time since he had arrived here as his hand reached out towards the cube. And without a moment to waste, he consumed the Energon within his hands, like a dog hungry in the wilderness. Once the cube was empty, D-679 sighed, throwing it away as he wiped the Energon remnants off his Derma.

"Thank you. Thank you, I appreciate this."

"Thank yourself. I'm only giving you my Energon because you spared my Bondmate's Spark, think nothing of it."

D-679's expression changed when the feminine voice echoed her sentence. Not once had he ever spared a life until the Mech that was called D-207 was encountered...

"...Your Bondmate... He's D-207?"

"His name is Lugnut. Mine is Strika, and I suggest you remember that, for your sake."

Names... Names were considered a privilege for those with the right to be free... But Slaves only have Numbers... That's all that they were, in this prison... In this spectatorial Arena...

"You realize you could get punished for naming yourself if word gets out to Lord Megazarak. You know this, don't you?"

"I'd rather get sent to drown at the sea of Trypticon rather than debase myself by conforming to the standards our false Lord had presented to his own People. At least I'll die having a name rather than having no name at all."

D-679 folded his arms as he pressed his back against the wall that held the voice of Strika on the other end of the wall. His sigh was as quiet as the vacuum of space.

"What of you? You have a name?"

The Mech stayed silent at that question, hesitating briefly before raising his Optics up.

"...I have no name."

"We have a name. We all do, as all Cybertronians before us did."

"The only name I have is the Number I was given since the day my Protoform was classified as Gladiator material for the Gladiatorial Arena. D-679."

"Sounds dull, given those numbers have no meaning, but a degrading way to identify those that Megazarak wants to present to sell himself out to our Autobot Dictators."

"Last I checked, Megazarak is the only Dictator around here."

"Only because he serves at the beck and call of the Autobot Commonwealth. He only sees the Decepticons as a Resource to be used. He cares nothing for his people, he is no Decepticon."

D-679 sighed once again as his Optics became dull due to being tortured just recently. His exhaustion began to wear out as the need to Recharge started to settle in.

"I'm done talking. I'm going to sleep now."

"You know, I overheard the Autobots giving you a nickname for your brief Triumph over Lugnut," Strika spoke once as D-679 turned around, hearing her voice. "I believe that they called you... Megatron, wasn't it? Yes... Yes, I believe Megatron is a far more memorable name than D-679, wouldn't you?"

The Mech who was Megatron said nothing of it, only growled lowly as he laid himself on the ground, resting... Preparing himself for the Day Before...

...There was a Dream that D-679 had... A Dream that felt so extremely real...

...Yet it also felt some type of bizarre deja vu to him.

In the Dream, there was a Warzone. A Warzone that existed somewhere on Cybertron. The Gray Decepticon found himself in the midst of that battle, in a conflict that he had apparently been a part of. It was all there, etched into his Optics as he saw the blaster fire and explosions ring out through the entire surface.

"Bring Me The Prisoners..."

D-679 turned around, hearing his own voice echoing in the background as he found himself on board a Ship. It was nothing he had seen before, nor had he remembered ever setting foot in.


Another voice echoed, one not of his own, and he turned around, unaware his reflection mirrors that of a silhouette of a Red and White Grounder, and saw someone... Familiar.

His Faceplate was adorned with Black Paint stretching down from his chin and painted around his Optics. The rest of his Armor was Black and Green, with the exception of his Orange and Black Hook. His Optics showed an expression of a plea as his Hook was adorned with an EMP Generator.

"...Use it... Please."

kill me...

The Gladiator turned around at the faintest of whispers, seeing his own reflection. And once he had, his expression changed from an unfazed face into one of terror.

In his reflection, there he was, standing there... With half of his own body missing.

And he just stood there, petrified as he used his one and only hand to press it against his face, trying to feel the missing piece of his half that suddenly vanished out of thin air as the voices began to ring out into the background.

"Optimus, what have you done?!"


"Lord Megatron, we have been betrayed!"

"Wake Up!"

A siren was let out, and D-679's Optics were open wide, pulled out of his troubling dream as he raised himself by the waist, groaning as he pressed a hand on his face, feeling everything was where it should be as he rubbed his hand down towards his chest. Then his cell door, making him turn and see an Autobot Guard standing by for him.

"Shift's up, D-679. Time to go to work."

D-679 stood up, facing the guard as he walked towards the White Armored Mech, following him outside his cell. From there, he was then followed by a Dark Purplish Red Femme that held the Bodybuild of a Mech. He presumed this one was the one who called herself Strika.

Soon, they marched themselves up into the messy, Energon-filled Arena, with Gladiators being put to work for janitorial duty as they scrubbed down each and every single inch of the facility.

At that same exact moment, D-679 turned around and met with the same Mech that he had spared from the day before.

"D-679, you've met with D-203. You two are going to be working together in a pair to clean up the mess inside the Arena."

Having been given nothing, but a sponge and a mop, D-679 did not mutter a word as he went to work, with the mech Strika called her Bondmate, Lugnut, tagging along obediently.

"I remember you," Lugnut spoke first as he followed D-679 closely from behind. "I owe you a debt of gratitude for saving my life."

"You owe me nothing," D-679 replied, turning to wipe the walls clean from the blood. "I spared you because I simply did not feel like killing anyone. For all I know, you and I will likely try to kill each other again once the games begin."

"Not after last night, we shall not! I offer you my life! Whatever you need, I shall be there to extinguish whatever whelp that stands in your way! I pledge my life to you, all-mighty Mega-!"

D-679 turned and clamped Lugnut's Derma shut, causing him to look at the Cyclops right in the Optic.


He pushed the Mech away the second he heard guards walking by, causing him and Lugnut to start resuming their work.

"Alright... You want to help? How about you do it by playing the Quiet Game? I'll be quiet, and you'll be quiet, until we move on to our separate ways, understand?"

Lugnut nodded his Helm. "Yes, Master."

"...And don't call me that."

"Yes, my Liege."

"No, don't call me..." The Gray Decepticon turned around, irritated at Lugnut's unwavering loyalty. "Don't call me anything, period."

"I... Understood."

D-679 sighed, closing his Optics briefly before resuming his work, with Perfect Day playing in the background. Time passed on and on as dirt and gravel were shoved into Decepticon Armor, and the hours of their work continued while piles of debris or leftovers from previous fights were dumped into carts, and then moved into the crematorium.

Of course, fights broke out during the Solar Cycle, whether it's between two Gladiators, or one and a guard, it usually ends with some Bot getting a shock prod jammed right into the neck. Whatever it was the case, D-679 hated it when people got into a fight, especially when a Decepticon with a Scorpion's Tail and a Decepticon who acted like some kind of Bugly had flung themselves onto the ground, spilling mud all over his own face.

D-679 remained firmly silent as he wiped off the mud from his Optics, groaning silently before moving on, continuing to mop up the bloodstains. As he worked, however, he could feel the stares looking right in his direction. But he did not care for them. He did not care what other people thought of him, as long as he could just survive for another Solar Cycle.

At some point, near the end of the shift, D-679 turned to finish cleaning the walls with numerous others, standing next to a Decepticon with a Unique Accent, and the Femme of whom he presumably spoke to the previous night before.

"How did you sleep?" Strika questioned as D-679 continued to work.


"This morning... I noticed your face when you walked out of your cell, you looked disturbed."

D-679's optics lowered, thinking back to the dream he had before... He had dreams that were severe before, but the one he had... It was unclear to him somehow.

"...I've had a dream that I can't fully explain properly," D-679 admitted. "Surely, you've had one of those before?"

Strika nodded. "More than a few. Everyone has nightmares, whether most of the stubborn fighters among us care to admit it or not."

"Hey, less talking, more working!"

Both D-679 and Strika turned around, hearing the guard's shout as they turned to resume work faster, though this did not deter their conversation.

"Your Bondmate is acting a bit too obsessed with me," D-679 said as he carried buckets of mud in his hands. "I think you should get him under control."

"Or else what? You'll choke him in his sleep?" Strika questioned as she followed the Mech from close behind, pushing a mop and a cart full of soap.

"I saved his life once. It means nothing of any significance."

"Except that he has your loyalty," Strika responded. "That feels significant enough."

Megatron shook his head, dumping the mud inside of a floating waste disposal drone. "It shouldn't mean anything. Not around here, not in this slagheap."

Strika hummed, handing D-679 the mop as they turned to wipe the floors clean. "That could change... Given the proper motivation."

"D-679," The Mech turned around, seeing an Autobot calling out his Designation. "Your presence is required by Lord Megazarak himself."

D-679 growled lowly, lowering his brow as he handed the mop back to Strika.

"If I die because of your Bondmate, I'll haunt him in the Pit and kill him as I should have." The Gray Mech whispered with a hiss, turning his back on her as he started to follow the guard. "Do I have another assignment?"

"Just wait till you meet with the Lord. You can talk to him from there."


D-679 walked, escorted by armed guards while being watched from a distance by a hooded silhouette, before vanishing in the dark. Eventually, he was sent into Megazarak's chambers, who was waiting for him just as he arrived.

"Oh good, you've arrived," Megazarak spoke as he drank a warm cup of Oil as D-679 just stood his ground. "You mind sitting down? Your brooding is killing the mood enough as it is."

D-679 sat down as "Requested", as he stared at the Decepticon leader before him.

"...How may I be of service, oh great leader?" D-679 said politely as he is meant to do.

"Have a drink," Megazarak commanded, sliding a cup of Oil onto D-679's side. "It is a great quality oil, you'll love it. It's a personal favorite of mine, something that Autobots would wish they'd have at Macadam's."

D-679 said nothing as he grabbed the drink in his hands. Saying nothing yet, he stared into the cup, figuring out whether or not the drink had been spiked.

"If I wanted you dead, I would have sicced the guards on you as those Autobots had sicced themselves onto you long ago," Megazarak said bluntly as D-679 turned his Optics to him. "Or have you forgotten just who it was that saved your life from being sent to the Smelter for what you did to that Autobot Stellar Cycles ago?"

"679, no!"


D-679's hands flinched at the mention of his own past as his Optics looked down at the cup. Without saying much, he took the Oil into his lips, let it pour itself down in his throat before it eventually rested in his Tank. Once he finished his drink, he set the drink down on the table, groaning in amusement at the taste as his Optics widen in reaction to the desert.

"It's good, isn't it?" Megazarak questioned as he saw D-679's reactions to the Oil. "It's a special recipe that only a few know. And like I said, it's exclusive to Decepticons only, no Autobot on Cybertron has ever tasted it before, not one."

D-679 blinked a few times, leaning back against his seat as Megazarak stared at him intensely.

"...Is this why I am here, my Lord?" D-679 asked as Megazarak folded his Servos.

"...Part of it, I suppose," Megazarak admitted, standing up from his Throne. "After all, I think I got a little carried away, having those Guards take away your Ration of Energon last night. I mean, you of all Decepticons should know better than that, about getting a bit... Carried away?"

D-679's Optics lowered again at his past as Megazarak had approached him like a snake.

"After all, we wouldn't want anyone to get unhappy when we get carried away, don't we? We all have our masters to serve. You, serve me, like everyone else, I serve the Autobots, and the Autobots serve their Magnus, and the Magnus serves himself... Which would make the Magnus his own Master, so to speak..." Megazarak sat down on a chair next to D-679. "What I'm trying to say is, here... Is that everyone has a dark side. There's no escaping it, it's something that's a part of life, even the Autobots have it, even we have it, you and me both. And sometimes, if we feel a bit too repressed, then it is naturally healthy for someone to just let it all out, be done with it... Even if it means getting some more blood on their hands."

D-679's Optics rose at the last comment, causing him to turn to finally look at Megazarak's gaze.

"...What are you implying, my Liege?"

"What I mean to say, D-679... Or should I say what the crowds said the other night, what was it... Megatron?"

"That's not my...!"

"Look, D-679, Megatron, whatever it is you are, you have to understand what I'm trying to tell you. See, there's a system in place, a chain of command. We all have our masters, just like I said, and sometimes our masters expect everything out of us. Mine, expects me to ensure that a planet-wide conflict that may never come to escalate into war. Yours, expects you to make sure that every angry feeling that you have, every... Dark thoughts you have... Isn't repressed, okay? Because if we keep those thoughts repressed, then it's simply a powder keg just waiting to happen, and suddenly, all it takes for an extremely Slag day until someone just..."


Both Megazarak and D-679 turned to the broken glass of oil that now shattered onto the ground, seeing how broken and fragile the pieces were.

"...Cracks." Megazarak sighed as D-679 turned to gaze on his leader again. "See what I mean?"

"...It's not that simple."

"Come again?"

D-679 turned to lower his Optics on the table again.

"I... Haven't killed anyone before... Not since C-12..."

"Aw, okay..." Megazarak scooted the chair he was sitting on, facing D-679 on the same side of the room. "I get it now; you're still feeling kind of shy after... What went on from before I had to fake your death, and all that. And that's okay too, because we all feel a bit shy at times, because otherwise, how the Frag do we evolve without a bit of growth, right?" Megazarak clasped his fingers together while leaning back against his chair. "So, tell you what? Why don't I help you improve your Growth?"

The lights went out before an alarm went off, much to D-679's surprise before Megazarak stood up, rolling his neck in a circle.

"What's... What is this?"

"Just a little experiment," Megazarak answered, pulling out a Sword from his inventory. "Just to put your Flight or Fight instincts to the test."

D-679 turned to see Megazarak pull out his weapon, leaving him wide-eyed.

"You... You're going to kill me?!"

"No... You're going to kill me."

Megazarak raised his Sword and plunged it right into the side of his Chestplate, taking D-679 back as he stepped back, stunned at how his leader just brutally harmed himself.

"FRAG, that hurt..." Megazarak growled as he pulled the blade away, tossing it on the ground, right at D-679's Pedes.

"What is the meaning of this?! I haven't done a thing to you, yet you said I'm going to kill you!"

"Yeah... That's what I'm telling the Guards once they show up."


The doors were kicked open, causing D-679 to turn around as the guards arrived, seeing exactly what it doesn't look like.

"Guards!" Megazarak called out as D-679 was left completely ambushed by the act. "This Prisoner just assaulted me, tried to claim my Spark with my very weapon!"

"D-679, don't move! Put your hands up!"

"Wait, stop!" D-679 pleaded as he raised his Servos up. "He's lying to you, I didn't do anything-!"

"Shut the Frag up!"

The Guard turned and swatted D-679 by the Faceplate, knocking him to the ground before being dragged out from the room.

"Take him! Take him away, along with D-207 and D-531, for conspiring against me and the Decepticon people! Take them away to the slums of Kaon, let them be chewed alive by whatever filth is out there!"

D-679 just shouted as he was dragged on his way out of the Arena. Eventually, he reached the front door, where he would be joined by no other than Lugnut and Strika, both of whom were held dragging on their feet, unaware of what was going on.

"Open the front gates! These three are going out into the Slums!"

The gates began to open just in time for hoods to cover their faces. It was only a matter of time before D-679 had his Optics covered in total darkness.

It was unclear how long it took for them to be driven out before D-679 was released into the wild. At that moment, all he knew then and there was that the transport that he, along with Lugnut and Strika, were carried on had been put to a complete stop. The next thing he knew afterward was being dragged out of the transport and dropped into the dirt, having his bonds being removed as well as the blinds that covered his Optics.

When he regained his sights, Kaon was a bright place, almost overwhelming his Optics as his hands covered the entirety of it. Eventually, when they had adjusted, D-679 lowered his Servos down, just enough to see how much of a slum it was. Everywhere he looked, there were Decepticons that were had no sense of identity to themselves, not even a job, or a purpose.

Just then, Lugnut and Strika were kicked out as well, enough for the two to be left behind as Lugnut staggered after the cargo ship, waving his fist into the air.



"OW!" Lugnut growled as he felt a can hitting him by the Optic. "Who threw that?"

"I did!" Swindle shouted as Lugnut turned around, angrily. "You mind keeping it down? I have customers to service here. Unless you're inclined to join me...?"

"I WILL KILL YOU ALL!" Lugnut screamed as he ran after Swindle, chasing him, along with any other of his customers, out of the spot where they stood. Before Lugnut could chase him for much longer, Strika grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him back.

"Lugnut stop. Getting angry over a Street Merchant isn't going to get us anywhere, and we have bigger things to be concerned about. Now, are you able to Transform?"

Lugnut growled lowly, noticing how the mechanisms he uses to turn into Vehicle Mode have been halted.

"...No. The Slavers still must have a restraining bolt active on our Cogs, keeping us from flying."

"As I suspected." Strika turned over to D-679, who still knelt on the ground. "Megatron... What happened back there?"

D-679 did not reply as he kept on kneeling, blinking a few times as he stared at his own reflection in the water. Then just when he blinked one more time, the reflection changed... No longer did it reflect on his own image, but rather as an opposing figure from his Past...

...Or perhaps his Future.


D-679 turned around, seeing Strika tower over him.

"Megatron, do you know anything about what's going on? Lugnut and I were accused of conspiring against Megazarak, were you accused just the same?"

D-679 did not reply to Strika's question as he stood up from the ground and moved away from her and Lugnut. "I have to get going."

"To where?"

"I don't know, maybe to seek refuge in Kolkular, to throw myself into the Smelting Pool, perhaps even take my chances in Altihex, I don't care." The Gray Decepticon turned to face the Couple. "All I know is that because I made one choice, I ended up here, and now I am forced to take my chances alone."

"Not alone. We are in this together, Megatron, whether you'd like it or not."

Sirens rang out in the distance, making the three turn around and notice a convoy of Autobot troopers patrolling the area.

"Autobot Security Services... They must have been deployed by the Elite Guard, on Megazarak's behalf." Lugnut turned to face the two. "We must leave, they're probably looking for us!"

"Us together..." D-679 blurted out. "We're better off if we split up!"

Lugnut shook his head. "Nonsense, Master! We must go together!"

"Stop calling me that! I am not your Master!"

"Megatron, perhaps you are right. Lugnut, we must split up." Strika turned to face Lugnut. "Meet me at the border between Kalis and Uraya. We'll regroup there."

Lugnut nodded his head, begrudgingly as he hesitated on leaving his "Master".

"Come back in one piece, my love." Lugnut turned a corner and left, leaving Strika to face D-679 the same.

"The same goes for you, Megatron. Whenever you are ready, we'll be waiting for you."

Strika turned the opposite direction Lugnut took and left, leaving D-679 to run a completely separate direction as he narrowly avoided security's line of sight. Hiding in the dark, he avoided floodlights that overshadowed the area in search of the three Gladiators.

"Attention, residents of Kaon," An Autobot speaker voiced out in the background while D-679 moved on. "We have reports of three, hostile convicts on the loose. They are armed and extremely dangerous, we urge you to report any suspicious activity...!"

"Good luck trying to get support from the worst place in Cybertron..." D-679 muttered as he crouched down, hiding in the alleys. As soon as he turned a corner, another patrol showed up, causing him to bend down and hide behind a dumpster, escaping Autobot sight as the convoy moved on.

"Well, look what we have here... A stray."

D-679 narrowed his head around, seeing five Stunticons that have came out of hiding as they started to corner the Gladiator.

"Say... Aren't you that Gladiator from the Arena vid screens? Megatron, was it?" Wildrider mentioned as D-679 regained his footing. "Hey, Motor Master, this the Bot, right?"

"Doesn't matter to me..." Drag Strip said as she circled the Gladiator as did Dead End and Breakdown. "The Mech's bound to have plenty of Credits on him, especially if a Bounty's placed on his head."

"Be careful, guys... I've seen what he's capable of!" Breakdown said nervously, which Dead End scoffed at.

"Breakdown, this is Kaon. This City's full of dangerous Bots, look around you."

"EENNNOUGH!" Motor Master screamed as D-679 locked eyes on the ringleader of the gang. "Let us take care of this Dipstick and be done with it!"

"You don't want to do this..." D-679 implied as he burrowed his hands into fists, and Drag Strip neglected to say otherwise.

"Yeah... We do."

It was ladies first as Drag Strip pounced on D-679, but he grabbed her by the neck, flinging her at Breakdown, making him fall down on the ground as Dead End moved on and dealt with the Gladiator in hand to hand combat. As they fought, Wildrider ignited a Molotov out of his bare Servos, attempting to light D-679 up as he tried to aim at the Gladiator.

"Hey, hey! Dead End, move out of the way!"

Dead End turned his head around, only for D-679 to take advantage and kicked him by the chest, throwing him at Wildrider as the two were set aflame. As soon as the Gladiator stood up, Motor Master moved on and held him in a chokehold, wrapping his Servos around his own neck.

"Hold still... Don't struggle, boy..."

D-679 gritted his teeth as he was brought to his knees by the Motor Master... Only so he could bite deep into the Stunticon Leader's Servo, making Motor Master let out a scream before being thrown upside down onto the ground.

At that moment, D-679 screamed with rage as he raised his Servos up in the air, the same way he did for that Autobot Trooper as Motor Master widened his Optics, uncertain of his own fate.


Motor Master's Optics were closed as the killing blow was delivered. But then he realized then and there that it wasn't delivered, as he turned his head around, seeing the fists have landed on the left side of his own head. Then he turned back to D-679's gaze, seeing his vented face as his body shook within that blow.

"...Get out of my sights."

Motor Master didn't say a word as he crawled out of the Gladiator's area, turning to stand up and leave, as well as the rest of the Stunticons as they have promptly exited the area D-679 was in as he fell on his knees, sighing heavily as he bowed his head down.

"...That was quite a display."

D-679 turned his head around, but just as he did so, his Optics had turned Purple at the touch of a small hand that was pressed against his forehead. At that one single touch, he fell on his back, put into a trance before fading out of consciousness.

In the dream... D-679 was walking out of the Mines that he himself once worked in as the Energon had been the only anchors of light that lead him out of the darkness. He kept on walking out of the tunnel, walking out towards the very end where there was some more semblance of light that was gathering on the outside.

Just when he reached the outside, however, his Optics widened at the sight of a large pile of corpses that were displayed all around him, many of them were faces of his own past as D-898's face was among the rest, with Energon pouring right out of his lifeless Derma and Optics...


D-679 rose himself out of a Berth, having woke himself out of Stasis as he found himself somewhere he did not recognize.

"...Rough night?"

D-679 turned around, seeing a hooded silhouette from before kneeling before a campfire as her hands were pressed on her knees.

"If you're having the instinct to fight, then I'd suggest you savor it for now. There will be time for practice later."

D-679 stood up, uncertain whether or not to trust the stranger before him. "Who are you supposed to be?!"

"I? I am no one. Perhaps, I am lost, trapped in surrounding darkness that consumes my soul from within. Perhaps, I am nostalgic, longing to return to a chair that has long since been stolen from me by such greedy specks of life. Or perhaps I am neither." The hooded figure turned around, revealing just how small she looked from D-679's point of view. "Perhaps, I am what you are, what we are both defined, as Exiles."

The Femme removed her hood, revealing a face with Purple Optics as she let D-679's Optics etch her face into the very fabric of his Memory Core.

"...I am Quintessa. And I am your savior, as you are mine."

The Warbuild stared at Quintessa, his expression puzzled by how such a Cybertronian could possibly have saved him from doom.

"...I am no one's savior," D-679 spoke, shaking his head. "I am, but-!"

"But what? A slave? Programmed to serve those who degrade you, who mocks you, and beat you and all those who share the same Faction as you?" Quintessa pulled out a cube of Energon by merely flicking her wrist, much to Megatron's surprise at the magic that she wields. "Or perhaps, you are more than that. More than all those who claim you and your People to be."

"My people?" D-679 questioned, turning to Quintessa.

"The Decepticons. Brothers and Sisters alike, all of whom are not treated as equals in a society that claims to be progressive in this so-called, "Golden Age."

D-679 narrowed his Optics. "...Tell that to the people of Kaon. Everyone that lives there attempts to rob each other left and right, or even kill when it comes down to it."

"That's because the people need a leader, a proper leader to guide them, to give them purpose."

"And what is your purpose, precisely?" D-679 questioned as he had yet to determine Quintessa's motive in his rescue.

"...Mine is short, but significant, depending on how well you work together with others," Quintessa spoke as she turned to sit down at the campfire once again. "My role in this life... Is to help pull the lost out from within the Darkness, to give their lives meaning."

"And that is what you intend to do with me?"

"If you would allow me to help, then yes."

D-679 stared at her, unsure of Quintessa entirely, but is somehow left feeling desperate as he looked around, seeing that he is nowhere else to go.


Quintessa patted her hand on the ground as D-679 turned his sights back on her. "...Sit."

D-679 did as he was told, sitting criss-cross applesauce as he sat on the opposite side of the fire from where she sat.

"...I've been watching you, ever since your display at the Arena," Quintessa confessed as D-679 stared at her. "Last night, the Mech that you have conquered would have wanted nothing more, but to rip your head out from your Chestplate. Today, however, instead of feeling bitter towards a rival, that same Mech has offered you worship, and loyalty beyond all else. Yet you turned him down, why?"

D-679 folded his Servos, lowering his sights to face the fire. "...Because I did not want it."


"...Why what?"

"Why did you not want it?"

D-679 set one of his Servos down so that the other could just rest on his knee. "...Because I just didn't feel like that it was..."


D-679 rose his Optics to face Quintessa once more.


Quintessa hummed, pulling out a stick to stoke the flames. "Then what is it that you want?"


"For what?" Quintessa asked, tilting her head. "For what the Autobots have neglected to do for the past Millennia?"

"For what the Autobots have done to a friend of mine."

Quintessa rose her Optics, facing D-679.

"...What is it that they have done to him?"


Quintessa sighed, lowering her Optics to face the fire. "I see... I understand what you're going through."

"Do you?" D-679 questioned, as she just stared into the open flame.

"All too well..." Quintessa explained as the light shined on her Faceplate, revealing her Green Lips. "Long ago, I used to have friends in high and low places... Somewhere on this planet, used to be my Home. But then, one day, my Home was seized by the very Cybertronians that I... Have entrusted to protect us."

D-679 stared at her puzzlingly, curious about Quintessa's nature.

"...The Autobots took something from you, did they?" He asked, suspecting some part of her past. "What exactly did they take?"

Quintessa rose her Optics to face D-679's, meeting his gaze.


The two sat there, staring at each other before resigning themselves in silence, basking into the warm fire that was shared between the two.

"...We are alike, you and I..." Quintessa broke the silence as they continued staring at the flame. "Both of us have lost our dignities... Both of us, degraded into the lowest form that society would not bother to accept. And if they dare refuse to listen, then perhaps... One may suggest that someone would have to make them listen."

"...How?" D-679 asked as Quintessa stood up from her spot, walked over to the Decepticon that sat before her.

"...How did it feel?"

"How did what feel?"

"To be worshipped?"

As her hand pressed on his Servo, a flow of energy transpired, and Megatron widened his Optics as they suddenly turned Purple. His expression was frozen, unable to move aside from the slightest of twitches.

"It's quite rare for you to receive such high attention, isn't it?" Quintessa whispered as she flew over to Megatron's Audios. "All your life, there have been few in this world, or any other, that has ever cared for you, not one bit, and it all took to finally receive some form of recognition was to induce just a small demonstration of violence, to show how ruthless anyone Cybertronian could be."

Megatron showed little teeth as his expression remained frozen. His Optics unblinking as his mind was caught in a hypnotic trance, letting himself hear Quintessa's words like being fed a poisonous drug.

"It felt good, didn't it? To unleash your wrath? To conquer those who dare stand in your way? To dominate the very will of the one you have beaten in combat? To be worshipped by those who have imprisoned you? Locked in a cage, fed very little Energon? It felt so good to just... Let go... Hasn't it?"


At the moment D-679 had given his admission, his Optics had returned to their normal red color, making them blink out of his own accord as Quintessa had let him go.

"If you wish to win your independence for yourself, then let go of the Past. Let go of the shell that used to be your former self, let that shell rust away in decay... So that you can allow yourself to be reborn in your own image that no one foolish enough in history will ever think twice about crossing you when faced in battle. Do that, and soon you will become one of the most powerful Cybertronians in the Galaxy. Do that, and you will alter the course of your own destiny forever."

D-679 stared at her, completely taken back by Quintessa as he felt whatever came over him vanish instantly right after her touch slipped away.

"...What was that?"

"Just a taste of things to come." Quintessa turned away. "But this is where we bid farewell."

"...Now?" D-679 stood up, seeing Quintessa. "But I thought your role was to help me..."

"No, I said that my role is to pull others out of the Darkness, to be their Guide. And I've already guided you enough as it is, you no longer need my help for that."

"But I don't understand... What must I do?"

Quintessa turned to face D-679 once more. "What you must; go find the ones that are hiding at the Border, assemble an army big enough to overthrow the Tyrant, and then claim your independence from the Autobots."

"Just like that?"

"Exactly, like that." Quintessa turned to make her leave. "Though, you must be smart about it, if you are to succeed. And you are smart, so if I may offer you one more piece of advice... A lot of your Kind is going to want Megazarak's head on a platter."


Quintessa gazed at D-679 one last time. "...So do what you must... Megatron."

Quintessa left, leaving D-679 behind as he left to resign to the fire. After a while, even long after she was gone, D-679 turned up and walked away, letting the light die out by itself as the Mech began to embrace his destiny...

...Sometime Later... The Decepticon Gladitorial Arena...

An alarm rang out as bodies of Autobot Troopers littered in the hallway, with the Arena being attacked by rogue Decepticons that have attempted a successful coup against Megazarak.

By now, every slave that fought in the Arena was running wild, free out of their cells as Onslaught guided Megazarak out from the danger.

"Over here, my Liege. We're getting close."

"How could this have happened? Where are all the safety mechanisms for these Gladiators?!"

"Someone must have gone in and turned off the Bolts that restrained each of the Gladiators from turning on their Cogs."

"But who could have done something like that?" Megazarak questioned as he turned around, seeing no one else around as Onslaught had opened the door.

"...I did."


Onslaught turned around, firing his weapon at Megazarak's knees, making him bow down before being dragged out into a room full of vengeful Gladiators.

"Onslaught... You Traitor!"

"You got it backward, sir." Onslaught said as he threw Megazarak on the ground. "It is you that is the traitor."

Megazarak groaned, before turning his head away to face a dark silhouette of a Mech that has towered over a badly injured Autobot, standing next to a body of a Decepticon Gladiator.

"...This girl had fought her entire life in this place... Wanting nothing more, but the respect that she has earned. And yet, you Autobots kept treating her like she was trash." The Decepticon pressed his Pede against the Autobot, making him wince in pain. "And she just died without having been given the respect that she deserved... Having died in this Cycle of Infamy."

"Please... You don't understand..."

"Oh, I understand it, all too well, because I know... That despite whatever promises your kind has to offer... No Autobot truly gives a damn about a Decepticon."

"No, no-!"

The Decepticon set his Pede off, leaving the Autobot alone briefly before Scorponok had trapped him in his Tail, flinging him back so that the Trooper would be dismantled by the Gladiators in the room as Megazarak saw the Mech turn himself to show his face.


"No... That's Megatron, to you." Megatron announced as he stepped forward with Megazarak standing on his Pedes.

"Ah... Well, I see you've gotten your growth spurt, finally. Oh, and you're welcome for that, by the way."

"Yes... Now let me show you my gratitude..." Megatron smacked Megazarak's face, making him fall to the ground.

"Bah... You know, this is exactly what I was talking about... When I said something about keeping things repressed." Megazarak spoke out of crass as he spat out some Energon from his lips.

"Nevertheless... Your treatment of your own Decepticons did not help make things better, and many of us have a lot to say about your leadership." Megatron spoke out of internalized rage, though it was more compressed as he circled around the Decepticon Leader.

"What I've done... I've done so I could prevent war."

"What you've done, you've done so you could cower behind our Autobot dictators..."

"Don't you get it?!" Megazarak raised his head up. "I've seen more wars than you have, boy... And even though most of our history is now scrubbed down the digital drain, I can promise you that if you go through with this, Cybertron may never live to breathe again, not as long as you continue on this path..."

"The Autobots have a saying, you know..." Megatron stopped circling around Megazarak as he stood to stand over him. "That Freedom is the Right of All Sentient Beings. And what that entails is that all Sentient Beings have the Right to choose for themselves."

Megatron snapped his fingers, and Lugnut had Megazarak's Servos and Pedes pulled together into one narrow line as the would-be Ursurper pulled out a Sword from his Subspace.

And so this is us, choosing for ourselves..." Megatron declared, before swinging the Sword, effectively cutting off Megazarak's Servos and Pedes all at once.


Polyhex... The Dead End.

Megazarak was seen lying on a dirt surface, bleeding out as his limbs were cut off, and his own Cog being torn right out as he was left for dead, exiled by the very Faction he was chosen to lead as Megatron watched him with no shred of sympathy over his actions before flying back into Kaon. There, he arrived while Lugnut stood by, waiting for him.

"Master... Now that Megazarak has been taken out from the equation, what must be done next? The Autobots will likely try to retaliate for this."

Megatron folded his Servos, lowering his brow. "If the Autobots are considering fighting us on our Home City... Then perhaps it is wise that we take the fight to them..."

Soon, numerous other Decepticons arrived as Megatron turned around, seeing a crowd big enough to be an army that is assembled from the depths of Kaon and its' Decepticon Arena. At that moment, Megatron stepped on top of a rock, pressing his hands on his waist as he began to address the assembly.

"My fellow Decepticons! For too long, we have been outcasts in a civilization that was supposed to be a Golden Age... But the Golden Age that is spoken of is a sad lie, one to make everyone believe that there is nothing wrong with condemning those who are bold enough to talk back to a Prison that pits us against each other. But tonight, we shall be divided no more!"

The crowd cheered on as a Decepticon known as Blitzwing nodded his head in agreement, smiling at Megatron's speech.

"The Autobots claim this "Golden Age" where all are equals. But if we are born as Decepticons, we are not equal in their Optics. In their Optics, we are nothing more, but scum, degenerates, and monsters. To them, we are nothing more, but savage beasts that are to be tamed at best, but I say otherwise!"

Onslaught nodded as the crowd cheered in a roar of excitement, folding his Servos while listening to Megatron.

"Cybertron is a World that is conquered by those with vast wealth and power! All of us that came from nothing is expected to do their bidding at the highest authority like it is their right to judge what our lives should be, and what should not be! I've seen it first hand myself, as did all of you! And I believe I speak for us all when I say that we have had enough!"

Lugnut roared as he raised his Servo up, along with several other Decepticons in the area as they have clearly chosen Megatron as their new leader.

"And as I've said before, in the eyes of an Autobot, we are nothing more, but monsters to them! So if they dare not to listen to our voice, if they dare not to listen to our cries, to listen to our demands, then we shall strip them of their own power, just as I have stripped this poor excuse of a leader of his own." Megatron declared as he pressed one hand on his Chestplate. "So if you are to select me as the new Leader of the Decepticons, then I shall lead us the way that Megazarak was meant to lead us, and I shall lead us into battle, into victory, into a conquest that will determine our future and the future of the Cybertronian Race... All I demand now is your Loyalty, now and forever!"

"...All Hail Lord Megatron." Onslaught said, kneeling with one Pede, bowing his head down.

"All Hail Lord Megatron..." Motor Master spoke next, repeating the same exact words Onslaught had said, as well as repeating his body movement by bowing before the Mighty Megatron. And soon enough, more and more started to do just the same.

"All Hail Lord Megatron."

"All Hail Lord Megatron."

"All Hail Lord Megatron!"

"All Hail Lord Megatron!"


The mantra had repeated as Megatron sat at Megazarak's throne, looking out emotionlessly as Lugnut, Strika, and Blitzwing stood by his side.

Planet Antilla... Ground Zero of the Great War... The Great Uprising.

"Autobot Command, this is the Antilla sector, reaching out through emergency channels..."

"There are Decepticons overrunning the perimeter!"

"There's so many of them!"

"How did they get this organized?!"

"Somebody, contact Ultra Magnus! We're getting slaughtered down here!"

"Hey, wait! What's that Decepticreep doing with that Red Button?!"




The Planet Antilla, one of the many controlled planets in Autobot Space, was being decimated by Decepticon Forces as any Autobot that remained on the surface didn't even stand a chance against the overwhelming might of the Decepticons.

"Medic! I need a Medic!" One of the Autobots shouted as one of his Pedes have been torn off no thanks to General Strika's Aerial Bombardment as a Medical Officer was on the scene.

"Hey, it's me, Pharma! Don't worry, I'll patch you UPAAAA!"

Poor Pharma had no time to treat his patient as he was taken up in the air by Blitzwing, having grabbed him by the neck as he flew dangerously high enough for an Autobot to be dropped.

"W-Wait! Stop, I have patient to attend to! Please, you must put me down!"

"Oh, but of course..." Blitzwing said, staring Pharma right in the Optics. "After all, I just remembered that you Autobots can't fly."

"W-What? NO!"

Blitzwing let his fingers go, and Pharma had fallen to his terrible demise, letting his screams be heard loud enough for everyone's Audios to hear until eventually, he crashed into the surface.

As Pharma's Death occurred elsewhere in battle, Decimus Prime was seen fighting alongside his Autobot brethren as they attempted to defend themselves from the overwhelming might of the Decepticons.

"Decimus Prime, we can't hold this position any longer! We need to evacuate!"

"Not yet, Longarm! The transmission is almost complete, Ultra Magnus and the rest of Autobot must hear of what's happening here!"


Glass shattered around the area, and an orange cloud of dust emerged from the broken glass as Autobot soldiers began to get swallowed up in the cloud, with their very Shells decaying into Rust.

"By the AllSpark..." Longarm widened his Optics in disgust. "Is that...?!"

"Cosmic Rust." Decimus sneered, lowering his brow. "Okay, change of plans! I'll remain here and guard the upload! Longarm, you take as many Autobots as you can, and you get off Planet ASAP!"

"What about you?!"

"I'll do what I can. Now go!"

Longarm nodded, before Transforming into his Alt Mode, leaving Decimus Prime behind as he began to broadcast on local Autobot channels.

"All remaining Autobots, this is Longarm! Decimus Prime has ordered a tactical retreat from the planet! I repeat, any and all surviving Autobots, evacuate-!"



Longarm was thrown back as a blast had halted his escape, making him revert back into his Robot Mode. As he rolled over and stood back up, he turned around, preparing to fight when a Claw had reached his Faceplate, and pulled it right out from his Protoform, causing him to scream in agony before falling to the ground.

"M... My F... Faceplate..."

"Will be taken with great care, I assure you..." The Decepticon known as Shockwave gloated as his Claws wrapped around Longarm's Chestplate, pulling open his beating Spark. "Though, I cannot promise the same for you, unfortunately..."

While the Real Longarm met his demise in Shockwave's hands, Decimus Prime fought for as long as he could before blaster fire had eventually caught up to him, blaster fire that came from Megatron's Cannon.

Falling on his knees, Decimus groaned as Megatron Transformed into his Robot mode, marching over to the Prime, only to slow down as he turned to grab an Autobot Trooper by the head, who attempted to fight off the newly appointed Decepticon Leader.

"Come here, little Cretin..."

"You want a piece of this? Huh? You wanna piece of me?!"

"No... Just two." Megatron said coldly as he turned to lift The Autobot over his head and rip him in half.


Decimus Prime shouted as he pulled out some type of Energy Weapon in his hand before trading blows with Megatron. Two of them fought it out, with Decimus using all of his training to take out the ringleader behind the assault. At some point, Decimus ducked down from Megatron's swing to knock him off his feet, turning to raise his weapon up high...



Decimus froze where he stood, his expression in shock as a blast from Megatron's Cannon had taken out just a piece of his own Chest.

As Decimus fell on his knees, Megatron grabbed him by the Helm, providing close-up eye contact between Autobot and Decepticon, with his Optics glaring out of personal rage.

"...Do you remember me?"

Decimus shook as he stared at Megatron. Behind the Visor, his Optics rose, as he had somehow recognized Megatron as D-679, a Decepticon Miner who has been treated extremely poorly in life.

"...Yes... You remember me..." Megatron said, having seen Decimus' Optics to confirm his suspicions while the Decepticons have gathered around the Leader.

"...It... Wasn't meant to go down... The way I planned..." Decimus told Megatron, who looked at him with nothing, but hatred for the Autobot. "...No one... Was supposed to get hurt..."

"Lord Megatron, what are you waiting for? Let us wipe this Autobot Filth from the face of the Universe!" Lugnut cried out.

"Come on, Lord Megatron! Give him what he Fragging deserves!" Scorponok encouraged.

Megatron turned around, seeing, and hearing all those Decepticons demanding the death of an Autobot as his Optics turned back to look at Decimus... And as he did, his thoughts surfaced back to D-898, the one who was labeled with a number and died without a name.

...And by Primus, how much it irritated him, having realized that he shall be remembered as a number. Like cattle being tagged on a farm.

"Please... You... Don't have to... Do this..." Decimus pleaded weakly, attempting to reason with the good part of Megatron that may yet exist within him... But that is like attempting to make a wish that may never come true.

"...I don't care," Megatron replied coldly, with hatred consuming his Spark entirely. "I just want every single one of you Autobots to die."

With his verdict decided, Megatron thrust his Servo deep into Decimus Prime's Chesplate, and pulled out his Spark, crushing it with his bare hand as the Green Autobot Prime died from such a fatality...

And the Decepticons roared in victory, cheering on for the death of Autobot as Megatron stepped back, seeing his own reflection in a pool of Energon while their victory on Antilla marked the start of a War that shall prolong for Millions and Millions of Years ahead...

Four Million Years Later... Two Months Ago... New Kaon.

The world of the Decepticon Planet was dark as nightfall had descended on the surface, with its' full moon being the only light source in the area as the wildlife continued to move in small herds at a time, enjoying the quiet silence that was just there.

That same silence was completely shattered when the sounds of a fighter jet flying close to the ground as all of the local animals began to scatter in a hurry.

"No. No! I called dibs on the Energon Ration this Deca-Cycle, not you!" Blitzwing argued with his Hot-Headed personality. "I've told you already, Lugnut, it's my turn to get the Ration from Planet X!"

"Bah, your overbearing personality speaks nonsense, Blitzwing!" Lugnut argued while flying next to Blitzwing in his Alt Mode. "Do not force me to bring the wrath of my Talosian Triple Fire Cannon yet again!"

"Dat weapon from Swindle?" Icy questioned as he takes over. "How many weapons have you procured from that small overpriced con?"

"The ration belongs to me and General Strika! End of discussion!"

"FINE!" Hothead took over once more, before Random switched places and Transformed himself back into his Robot Mode. "But don't expect me to share zhe same dancing class az you do from now on, gehehe!"

"Blitzwing, Lugnut, come in! General Strika has an assignment for the both of you simpletons in the flight lounge!" Shockwave announced through the two Decepticons' Comms. "Get your rations and hurry it up!"

"Understood, Shockwave, over and out." Lugnut flew ahead of Blitzwing. "Come, Blitzwing! Our duty awaits us!"

"Come, Blitzwing, our duty awaits us, wah." Random Blitzwing mocked under his breath.


"Nothing to concern yourself with, let us proceed with our route." Icy responded.

Soon enough, they reached the New Kaon facility as the Decepticon Empire wasn't preparing for an invasion nor a battle of some kind. Merely, all everyone was doing on the planet was resting their gears as Megatron stood up high from a mountain, seeing how much they were growing as he pressed his hands together behind his back.

"How long have you been standing there?"

Megatron narrowed his Optics, turning around to see Slipstream as she flew right next to him.

"I thought I left vivid instructions on being left alone."

"Yeah, I think the Starscream programming inside of me might be plotting to kill you."

"Is it?"

"Would you kill me if I was actually being serious? Or perhaps lock me in a cell right next to whatever is left of Cyclonus?"

Megatron folded his Servos together, turning back to the scenery.

"What is it you want?"

Slipstream sighed, walking next to him as she laid her hands hanging on each side of her waist.

"It's been four Lunar Cycles since our encounter with Optimus Prime. Four Lunar Cycles and I remember vividly how you promised the Autobots that they would be seeing you again, and part of me is curiously wondering..." She turned her head to face the Leader of the Decepticons. "How long is that going to be?"

"Until the next reasonable step forward can be found, we are simply in limbo."

"Feeding ourselves Rations of Energon isn't going to make others satisfied though." Slipstream folded her Servos. "Everyone is becoming restless, even rumors are circulating that you've gone soft, letting those Autobots go even after they delivered Cyclonus to us."

Megatron let out a low hum as he stared out into the horizon, while Slipstream stared at him curiously.

"...You look quiet." Slipstream said as Megatron neglected to look at her. "Of course, you're usually quiet like that whenever you need to be, but... It feels different this time."

"What led you to presume such a thing?" Megatron asked as Slipstream just stared.

"...Would you like to talk to me about what you're thinking about?"

Megatron turned to set his gaze upon Slipstream. "...What's there to say? What would you get off from a conversation that is to be turned into something so trivial?"

"...Something worth enough time to kill my boredom." Slipstream replied. "Of course, you're always free to kill me at any time, but... I think I'll bite that bullet."

Megatron hummed once more, lowering his Optics before bowing his head.

"...I was thinking of my past... And how I led myself and our Decepticons here."

"...And?" Slipstream asked as she circled around the Decepticon Ruler.

"...And I'm thinking just exactly why I had started all this in the first place." Megatron had admitted, raising his Optics up. "Sometimes, I feel like I have... Forgotten as to what motivated me to go to war against the Autobots..."

Slipstream raised a brow. "...You're not getting cold feet, are you?"

Megatron turned to Slipstream. "Make no mistake; I hate the Autobots with every Circuit in my body."

"So, you still hold grudges."

"That I do."

"...But is it the same as it was from before?"

"...I don't even know anymore."

Slipstream blinked as Megatron had given her an honest answer, leaving her a bit stunned before she composed herself and looked out into the stars above.

"...You wanna know what I think?"

Megatron turned to the same sights as Slipstream was gazing on. "What?"

"...I think you're getting tired of all this."

Megatron turned to look at Slipstream, raising a brow.

"...Tired of what exactly?"

"Oh, well... The fighting, the gunfights, the space battles... The Energon that's shed from our bodies..." She turned to face Megatron. "You know, it's all pretty fun, I'll admit that, but... Somehow, you must be getting tired of it all, aren't you?"

"Now that's absurd."

"Maybe..." Slipstream turned to glance up back at the stars. "But you know what? It may just be the truth... After all, what's the plan in this anyway? We go on, we go to battle the Autobots, whether it's on Earth, or Cybertron, or whatever Planet it is that we have to get our Paintjobs dirty with, it all just feels like the same old bullshit, doesn't it? And don't me wrong, I am still down with this, all the way through, but sometimes, it just feels like we're playing the same song over and over again, and there's just nothing else on Shuffle mode. And that kind just makes it feel..."

"Dulling..." Megatron finished, and that made Slipstream point a finger up.

"Right? It feels so dull most of the time, all of it just doesn't feel the same as it did before, and you know... I think we could all try something a little differently this time around."

Megatron folded his Servos, shaking his head. "...Peace isn't an option, Slipstream... The time for negotiations came to an end when I broke the Tyrest Accords, no Autobot will believe a word I say."

"...So Frag 'em," Slipstream spoke bluntly. "Frag Optimus Prime, Frag Starscream, Frag Ultra Magnus, Frag everybody. They want to continue fighting? That's up to them. We'll just leave."


"Yeah, we, as in you and me."

"Why..." Megatron looked at Slipstream. "Would you want me to be coming with you?"

"...Why do you love me so damn much?" Slipstream countered as she turned to Megatron. "I can see it. You can't admit it, but you do. It's a feeling that you're way too prideful of yourself to admit, even if you wanted to stop trying to save face every once in a while."

Megatron didn't reply, only looked down as he had no words to reply to such a thing while Slipstream walked to him, facing his chest.

"You and I... We've lived most of our lives doing nothing, but fighting... It's like fighting is the only thing we know about. And as much as we both like it, it's starting to get old. The Autobots we're fighting against? They're not like the ones from the past, they're changing. So what's to say that we can't change? What's to say that we always have to be the bad guys?"

"I'm usually the bad guy in the eyes of the Autobots..."

"Because we kept on pushing them for so long, that's how they'll always treat us." Slipstream narrowed her Optics. "And, attempting to eliminate the entire Human Race doesn't really help us either..."

"Why are you telling me all this?"

Slipstream turned her gaze back on Megatron. "...Because I've watched you go insane, not once, but twice already. The first time was when you turned yourself into a Triple-Changer, and the second time was when the Fallen brought you back as Galvatron. And you know what? We could both use a break from all this insanity that's been going on for Eons."

Megatron stared at her as the two got close enough that they started facing each other's Optics face front.

"...You never said to me... How much you cared about me..." Megatron noted as Slipstream kept on staring at him.

"...Why don't you kiss me and found out?" Slipstream dared while wrapping her Servos around his neck before the two engaged in a heated, passionate kiss.

And once they kissed, Megatron felt something that he hasn't felt in a long time... Some semblance of hope.

And as soon as he opened his Optics, deepened into the kiss... His sights caught onto her face... Arcee's face.

And that same moment, Megatron pulled away, blinking his Optics as Slipstream stood before him once more.

"...Is everything okay-?!"


The couple turned around, seeing an explosion go off as the blast radius had bombed the entire base, thanks to a series of Autobot bombardment drones. One of those bombs dropped right on top of Megatron and Slipstream as their moment was forever broken at that precise second.


Slipstream pushed Megatron out of the way just when the missile landed, knocking them both off their Pedes.

Once Megatron fell to the ground, he got up, seeing the spot they stood on turned into a complete scorch mark as Slipstream was lying on the ground, injured and unconscious.

"...Slipstream?" Megatron crawled over to his Crush, holding her in his Servos as she remained Online, though she did not wake anytime soon. "Slipstream!"

Megatron was seen in the Decepticon Medical Bay as Slipstream's wounds were treated at the Medical Berth, with Shockwave overseeing her progress.

"Lord Megatron, Slipstream's analysis indicates that whatever was in those missiles have been enough to cause severe harm to you and any other Decepticons in the area." Shockwave had confirmed while Megatron had kept his gaze on her and Slipstream alone. "We still don't know how the Autobots got past our defenses, but rest assured, they will no doubt pay dearly for this..."

Megatron didn't say a word, not a single one as his hands had gripped on Slipstream, leaning his head against her palm. He sighed, closing his Optics as Slipstream lied alone in the Berth, possibly waiting to die.

"...As you wish, my Liege. Perhaps we should prepare a counter-assault on the Autobots, should you ever desire it."

Megatron opened his Optics, puzzled at Shockwave's statement as he turned around, seeing Shockwave staring at the wall.

"...I didn't say anything." Megatron pointed out, walking towards the spy. "What game are you pl-?"

"Yes, Lord Megatron. Right away."

Shockwave turned around, leaving Megatron behind with Slipstream as he had been all alone all over again. Then as Megatron turned around, Slipstream's entire body was gone, vanished without a trace, much to his distraught.

"Slipstream?!" Megatron looked around, seeing if Slipstream was still around as he walked out through the door. "SLIPSTREAM!"

He had kicked the door down, walking out of the medlab, only to find himself on the Nemesis, long before it's eventual crash on the Moon.

"...What?" Megatron turned around, seeing figures from his past taking shape around the ship. "...What is this...?"

"Energy reading off the scale, my Liege!" Starscream spoke with high eagerness while Megatron stared at him oddly. "Shall I fire on the Autobots?"

Megatron marched up to him, glaring at the Traitor.

"Starscream... How many times shall I drag your sorry excuse of a Spark over to that cell of yours? It's like you want me to rip off your-?!"

"Yes, yes, yes, brilliant strategy, oh wise, and great Leader!" Starscream recited as he acted as if Megatron wasn't even facing him, acting as if he wasn't even listening to a word he said.

"Do you not hear me? Or have I had punched your Helm so hard that-?!"

Static began to show off, and Starscream disappeared from his sights, much to Megatron's surprise before another voice rang out in the distance, this one being more feminine in nature.

"I've got a match on the energy reading," Blackarachnia informed, though her appearance left Megatron puzzled. "If it's not the AllSpark, it's something just as powerful."

"I volunteer to deploy and breach the Autobot ship!" Starscream expressed with a bow, through false pretense. Megatron walked towards him, confused by all this when the Traitorous Seeker was then pulled by an unknown force.

"Ow, ow!" Starscream whined and lowered his Optics, fearful at something that was completely empty as Megatron stood right next to him, seeing him staring at nothing, but an Empty Throne. Then he was released, with Starscream's Left Wing having dents from a large fingerprint despite Megatron not having laid a hand on him at all.

"Well, I'll just get these fixed, then..." Starscream scowled to himself as he raised a brow, Megatron tilted his head, having felt the familiar feeling of Deja-Vu.

"...This isn't real," Megatron spoke to himself. "This... This is all, but a memory."

As Megatron turned around, he noticed a crack that was tearing through the window. It wasn't a crack where someone would be having a bad day, or they're complete buffoons of themselves. This was a crack that represented a tear in reality, in Megatron's reality.

His hand reached out to the crack... And as soon as he touched it, the environment around him turned static once again, and suddenly he was onboard the Dormant Omega Supreme, where he was then standing amongst the Autobot Repair Crew as they were speaking to a Sentinel Prime that was not taken Offline by the Fallen.

"Optimus Prime. You mean they still let you command other Autobots?"

"Don't start, Sentinel," Optimus Prime said as Megatron stared at his Rival. "Just patch me through to Ultra Magnus..."

"Wait... No..." Megatron shook his head. "I don't... I don't remember being here, not for... This part."


Megatron's brow rose, having heard a whimper in the room. He turned around, while the others conversed in the background, seeing the Autobot Medic, Ratchet, with his Servos folded around his Chestplates. His expression bore one of grave concern.

"Kill... Kill... Kill me. Please kill me. I have to die. Please kill me, just kill me... I have to die..."

Megatron walked over to Ratchet, puzzled by his change in behavior.

"You... You're fully aware of this, aren't you?" Megatron questioned as Ratchet whimpered to himself. "You're not just part of the Memory..."

As his voice rose, Ratchet's Optics turned towards the Decepticon Warlord. And instead of a stern comeback, he started to shout out of fright, jumping right out of his seat, much to Megatron's surprise.

"No... No, no, no, no, you... I can't let you..."

"Can't let me what?" Megatron pushed, marching himself towards the Autobot Medic. "What is this? Why are we here? And why am I seeing you in my Memories?"

"I can't..." Ratchet's hands were pressed against his head. "I can't... I can't let you... Kill me. You have to kill me..."

"If Death what you want, I'll make certain to grant it once you answer my questions."

"Kill me, kill me, kill me..."

"Are you even listening to me-?"

Megatron halted as he suddenly stopped on tracks. His control over his body had become... Glitchy.

"Kill me... Kill me..."


A sound of a Cannon vibrated, and Megatron turned away from the Autobot Medic, only to find that his own Servo was just moments away from blowing his own head off.




Megatron barely regained control of himself as he pulled the Servo out of his Grasp, missing the shot from his head as it made a hole in the ceiling. And soon, that hole began to create cracks. Cracks that spread like a web, turning everything in the background into cracks, with white light pouring out as Megatron looked around, completely stunned at what was happening around him while Ratchet on the other hand was mortified.

"No, no, no, no, no, NO!"

Soon, everything began to crash as Megatron covered his Optics, shielding himself from the light that engulfed both Autobot and Decepticon whole. When the dust settled, Megatron found himself in the same cell that he was from his time as D-679... Only with some noticeable changes, such as floating, shattered objects that were just hanging loose in the background.

He stood up, finding the cell even as dark as it was before. Then he turned around, seeing the same cracks on the back of his cell as he pushed his hand against it, only for the wall to crumble down before him. Then he ventured himself out, finding the whole of Cybertron becoming fractured, unstable.

In the area he walks, it was the same one from the dream he had, except the blaster shots were hovering in the air, and every Autobot and Decepticon was frozen, unable to move.

"What... Is happening to me?" Megatron asked himself as he looked around, seeing the World around him become a shell of its' former self.

"Do you think they can hear us?" A voice rang out, one that presumably belonged to the Autobot Wrecker, Bulkhead.

"I don't know... I don't think they're in the mood to make conversation right now." The Voice that belonged to Wheeljack echoed, much to Megatron's curiosity as he walked through the collapsing world, seeing Cybertron having merged with Earth in a twisted, broken world.

"We have to help them. Both of them, even if it's futile." Rodimus Prime said as Megatron stepped right inside of a burning Plant, moving past Bulkhead beating on Bumblebee misinterpreted as the not actually an Autobot Traitor Wasp.

"What makes you think it'll work out?" Bulkhead asked as Megatron entered the Plant, seeing Ratchet just sitting on a stool facing the Monitor.

"We have to try... For Ratchet's sakes, and ours."


Megatron called out Ratchet, who was folding his Servos to himself as he was seemingly facing a darkened flatscreen.

"These memories... Why do you and I share-?"


Ratchet turned around and lashed out, using Jumper Cables to electrify Megatron by the neck. But that effort was futile as he pressed a hand on the Medic's wrists, holding him up in the air as both Autobot and Decepticon came face to face with each other.

"Are you done irritating me, or can we finally have a conversation about what is happening to our Minds?" Megatron asked as Ratchet could only stare in fear.

"No... I can't let you... Take control, no... Won't let you hurt them! Have to... Die!"

"Will you get a hold of yourself, you suicidal masochist? I need answers, and I can't achieve that if you keep acting like this."

As Megatron held Ratchet in his grip, more cracks began to tear themselves apart as everything had suddenly turned white.

Earth... Present Day.

Megatron and Ratchet's debauched form were seen screaming as the two halves have become self-aware enough that they each feel the pain that has been inflicted on them, with their Optics widening out of the horror of what happened to them.

Alright, so this has to be one of the darkest chapters I've written. I hope I did well for Megatron's backstory, he's a villain that deserves a story to be told on the Franchise.

Oh, and before I forget, I'd like to let you guys know that I have officially opened up a Deviantart account, and I've been drawing a lot of stuff, including a visual artwork of my iteration of Quintessa for this Season! Just look up my name and type Deviantart on google or whatever, and you'll find it, easy peasy.

Anyways, plz leave a review/comment on what your thoughts are, and I'll see you next time!