Chapter Text
They found Megatron sulking in a dark rec room.
As he didn’t react to them announcing themselves, they slowly entered in a huddle.
“You and Mr. Optimus were friends before the war, right?” Jawbreaker asked in his timid voice.
The young Dinobot and his siblings stood at the far side of the room right by the door. Megatron didn’t miss the fact how the Terrans stayed close to the exit. And well away from him.
Dragging a heavy servo down his faceplate the grey mech ground out a very tired: “Yes.”
The group of Younglings watched him, their expressions tight. It was Twitch, hovering in front of their little group, who finally asked: “What happened? Why did you guys stop being friends?”
Megatrons venting became labored as the severity of the question hit him. For a split-second he even contemplated answering it – or trying to at least – but then Elita-1 stepped into the rec room behind the children.
“Yeah, Megatron. What happened?” she interrogated with tightly crossed servos and a sour expression.
Something within the old mechs memory banks seemed to glitch. A sudden lance of pain went through his processor. “Out,” he ground out wearily. His red optics smoldered as he looked at the group of Terrans and Elita-1.
The femme didn’t need to be told twice. With one last withering glare she was shooing the Younglings out the door, before the ex-warlord would lose his temper in front of them.
Once again alone with his bad mood, memories started flooding through his mental barriers. Slowly at first, then faster and faster.
Ever since the day he was created, his sire Terminus had told him, that he was something special. That no one on the planet was allowed to make him think otherwise. His creator had always known, that his family was meant for greatness. Even though he was just a low caste miner, Terminus connected people through his charisma and eloquent speeches. Both were traits that Megatron inherited from him.
The work in the mines alongside his sire had taught the young Megatron about the value of union between him and his fellow miners. But in order to achieve the great things, he was created to set into motion, Megatron needed more than just their help.
He needed knowledge. Military knowledge to be precise. But Kaon wasn’t really a place you could find that sort of thing.
All of his friends as well as his sire put together the credits he had needed to travel to Iacon. The next problem turned out to be, that low caste mechs like himself weren’t allowed within the Hall of Records.
At this point of his function Megatron had already learned, that you just needed to take the things, the high caste wasn’t willing to give to you. So he snuck into the archives in the middle of the night-cycle. And there he had met him.
Again, his processor glitched at the memory of tricolored plating. Of soft blue optics that gazed up at him in admiration. At the little smile and the eagerness to help him in his endeavors.
Orion Pax pledged to help him. To stay by his side. To share his dream for the future of Cybertron.
And Megatron fell in love.
It may have taken him ages, but finally Megatron was this close to reach his goal.
After learning all he needed to know, he went to fight in the pits to expand his popularity and influence. Soon he held the favor and support of not only friends, but of powerful allies as well. He brought Shockwave to his side, ensured Soundwaves loyalty, rallied an army, rallied >file corrupted<.
Once again, the image of tricolored plating and blue optics flashed up in his mind. Megatron shuttered his optics and pressed the heels of his servos against them. Grounding his dentea against the pain of the memories, Twitches question once again echoed.
“Why did you guys stop being friends?”
The pain turned excruciating.
“Because he betrayed me,” the poisonous part of himself hissed.
Iacon
The Senate
The Matrix
Optimus Prime
There wasn’t supposed to be an Optimus Prime.
Megatron was the protagonist of this story! His sire had told him so all his function.
Megatron worked in the mines, gaining strength. Megatron studied the scriptures of The Thirteen, cultivating knowledge. Megatron bled in the pits, creating a reputation.
Megatron deserved the Matrix.
Not Or… Op … Ori … >file corrupted<
This time the grey mech actually sunk to his knees and bellowed a shout into the darkness of the room.
The memories were bleeding into each other. He couldn’t remember it clearly anymore.
Orion Pax had been his friend. Those adoring blue optics could have never betrayed him.
He loved those optics.
He hated those optics!
He would teach him a lesson to try and usurp him. To take his glory from him. The glory that was promised to him from the day he left the well.
Megatron was the leader. He was the chosen one. And he would teach that little tricolored upstart to not cross him. That he would never be better than him. Even being his equal would be too good for the blue opticed traitor. Orion NEEDED Megatron. And he needed to acknowledge that fact. If he would just do so, then …
He would remain under his thumb were he belonged. A side character in Megatrons rise to glory.
Never more!
Never better!
Shouting again Megatron hit a fist against the side of his own helm to get his inner voice to stop spewing its poison.
That wasn’t him anymore!
He had changed for the better!
He could exist besides Optimus and be happy. He could be his friend again. Like back in the day. Like during the happiest time of his life.
All he needed to do, was to shut up his hateful, jealous old self for good.
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Seeing as going to the training room was out of the question now, the Terrans and Protoforms had to make do with the playroom. The mood, however, was glum.
Nightshade sat by a table at the far end and tried to at least repair a few of the toys the projector had broken the other day.
Meanwhile the seekers tried to entertain the others. They sat around in a circle and played some sort of game.
Orion watched them contemptuous from his place by the door.
Ever since last night he really wanted to get out of here. What did it take for those stupid adults to call his mom and get him picked up? He had really hoped, that the destruction of their training room would have been some kind of last straw for them, but the stupid seeker had gotten most of the credit for that. Not that it had been Orions intention to set the place on fire. That had merely been a nice bonus.
Seeing as his big grey jailer and the nosy pink femme weren’t around, Orion used his chance to once again try an escape attempt. And who knew. Maybe he would find something else to sabotage on his way outside, so that even if he didn’t succeed, he would finally be kicked out of this facility. It wasn’t the first time after all.
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After another round of “Seeker, seeker, shuttle” Starscream collapsed to the floor. The game was starting to get boring. Leaving the circle of Younglings, he wandered over to the pile of toys. Nothing really struck his fancy.
Having learned that a bored Starscream didn’t bode well for anyone, Thrash was quick to approach him. “Hey, Starscream, want to play a round of Table Soccer?” he asked the little seeker with a bright smile.
Cocking his head, Starscream had to admit, that he didn’t know that game. New things were always fun!
Sitting down at a nearby table, Thrash prepared a rubber band and a tiny piece of wire and explained the rules.
During that time, Spitfire and Twitch hovered over to them. “Table Soccer?” the green drone asked bored, “Really?”
Twitch however was as supportive as ever. “I think it’s a great idea!” she cheered, “Nothing bad can happen during Table Soccer. Who could screw something up with just a rubber band and a piece of wire?”
Tarantulas, who had also joined their conversation, had to agree. He approved of the game.
At first things were going fine. Starscream and Thrash took turns in flinging the wire through the other Younglings held up servos using the rubber band.
Until it was Starscreams turn once more. He hooked the wire into the rubber band, took aim and … missed completely. That is, he missed Thrashes upheld servos. What he didn’t miss, was the power socket in the wall behind him.
With a pop and a crackle, the room became pitch black. Only the optics of its occupants illuminated the place.
A deep sigh wafted through the sudden silence. “I should have known better, than to underestimate him,” Tarantulas mumbled in defeat.
From somewhere Spitfire shouted: “Totally Chaos!”
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Orion had no idea how he had gotten here. It looked like the utility tunnels at the academy only that it was a million times spookier down here. If there was any chance, that these tunnels would lead him outside though, he would brave through them.
Chancing a glance at all the valves and cables lining the walls, there at least was a good chance, that he could break something important down here.
His optics illuminated a sign that read “Danger! High Voltage!”. Grimacing to himself, Orion tucked his servos close to his frame. Better not to mess with anything after all.
Just as he wanted to keep on walking, he noticed a second light in the darkness. Something red blinked close to the ground.
At first, he thought, that it was part of some control panel, but suddenly the red dot moved. With frightening speed and chittering sounds, it rushed straight for him.
The talk about the scraplet came back to the Protoforms mind. With an alarmed shout, he kicked the thing. Losing his balance in the process, he couldn’t hear the crunching sound it made upon impact with the wall anymore.
The last thing Orion saw, was the danger sign as he fell towards the power cables.
______________________________________________________________________________
Grumbling under his breath, Wheeljack scaled the steep ladder down into the breaker room. Leave it to Starscream to cause a blackout in a top-notch military facility with what was essentially a paper clip.
Prowl was practically foaming at the mouth by now and it was only the second day.
Stifling a yawn Wheeljack consulted his chronometer. Was it really just the second day? He had been awake all night to run another pest-control-protocol, because Arcee wouldn’t leave him alone and after that he had been busy putting the fire out in the training room. And now that!
Activating his headlights, Wheeljack trundled down the tunnel. Maybe he could pretend, to take longer than necessary to fix this and take a little stasis-nap down here.
Just then he spotted Orion.
Taking a double take, the bot rushed over to the kid, that sat dejectedly on the ground, right underneath the power cables.
“Sweet Prahmus above, kid! Are you ahlright?” Wheeljack gushed as he crouched down in a rush and started scanning the motionless Protoform. If Orions blue optics hadn’t been online, the bot would have thought the kid was offline.
As it was, Orion was fine, if very spooked. One moment he had tumbled towards the power cables, then there had been a spark and a crash. He had thought, he offlined. That this was it. Deactivation by electrocution in a dingy boot-camp basement.
Orion didn’t protest at all, as Wheeljack scooped him up and carried him back up to the others. He never wanted to leave the playroom again.