Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“In moments, we’ll be in firing strength.”

My disciple said in acknowledgement of my great machine. The whirling sounds of the Star Harvester roared into life, sending ripples throughout the local space time.

The fleshlings crowding the base of the pyramid panicked, their faces illuminated by the brilliant blue light of the Star Harvester. Megatron’s own red gaze was no different, locked onto me as I lowered my arms. My gaze, yet to leave the matrix.

Something was off, I could feel it. My processors were functioning as normal, my fuel lines supplied my frame with energeon, little as it did. But I cannot rid myself of a strange sensation as I gazed upon the matrix.

Something was wrong, dangerously wrong. I felt dizzy all of a sudden. This shouldn’t be possible. I am a prime, a god among gods. I felt my face plat spasm uncontrollable and my optics blinked. My own hand reached for my face, running over its ridges.

“Master?” My loyal disciple inquired.

Distantly, I heard explosions, followed by the launching of projectiles. I would’ve reacted were it not for this dizziness I felt. Millenia of battle instincts somehow could not overcome this. What was the matrix doing to me?

“Worms,” Megatron growled. His frame turned away from me and I heard the familiar sound of him taking off. He did not see my entire body tremble.

Even as more explosions went off in the background, I stayed upon the control module of the Star Harvester watching the accursed matrix. My thoughts powered uncontrollably, my brain/processor caused my head to jerk.

Was this nostalgia? Was the Millenia trapped in that cage, without ever seeing my matrix causing this? Or had the autobots and that descendent tampered with it? Impossible, he was dead and they didn’t posses it until very recently. There is no way they could’ve figured out how it works.

Across the sky, the trailing form of Starscream fired upon what must’ve been intruding fleshlings. My head still ached, but I followed his path. Victory was all but assured, but something was indeed wrong.

“Impossible!” I heard my disciple yell. What was impossible? My optics picked up on a black shape circling just out of the corner of my vision. Megatron’s frame clung to the side of the pyramid. Starscream frantically firing missiles.

I scrambled to my feet, glancing around but the Star Harvester ‘s structure blinded me to the source of the noise. I could tell what it was, powerful thrusters.

“Master, look out!” Megatron screamed from beneath me. It was then that I noticed who the thrusters belonged to. Yet by then it was too late.

Red, blue, grey, clad in black armour. Enormous guns and thrusters strapped to his back. The last prime, Optimus Prime.

I was already moving to face him. But he was even quicker. Before even making his way to my direction, his arm was already raised. That massive gun of his almost done with firing.

The explosion of the missile shattered the Star Harvester. I, who stood upon said harvester was blown off the pyramid. In a mix, of anger, humiliation, befuddlement, dizziness, and a strange sense of Deja vu, I tumbled.

“This feels familiar.” I tasted my own words. Both strange yet also not. This was my voice, but something was off. I didn’t have much time to dwell though, as the pain of falling down the side of an exploding Star Harvester encased my sandstone assaulted me.

Optimus Prime, the leader of the autobot cause. His presence gave me a sudden surge of complex emotions. But I didn’t have time to dwell on that either for he was my enemy. Luckily for me, Megatron was already on him. Having leapt off the pyramid as well, he borrowed into Optimus and both fell towards temple ruins.

“Rrraargh!” About halfway down, I leapt after the foolish prime.

“That was a mistake.” I heard Megatron say. “You destroyed our one chance of Cybertron restored!”

“Only to destroy it again.” Optimus replied. The sound of metal smashing against metal, thumping of energeon weaponry, and grunts littered throughout the ruins.

“DIE!” I yelled in anger, Optimus was caught by surprise as my staff stabbed against his faceplate. He lurched back and my claws reached to tear off his armour. I recognised him now, this was the traitor Jetfire’s frame he wore. “As foolish as your bothers.”

“They were your brothers too.”

Megatron and I tore into prime. For a moment it seemed we had the advantage. But a sudden surge from his other arm canon blasted my abdomen. I slammed through the walls of the temple, feeling rubble collapsing onto me.

Frustrated by how easily and quickly he overpowered me, I tore apart the primitive human construction off me. Combined with Jetfire, Optimus was at least 3 times his former size. He towered over Megatron, and while he stood of head with me, his bulk was easily several times my own.

He brawled with brutal efficiency too, both technical as well as powerful. The strength afforded to him by the traitorous seeker allowed him to catch my punch. The same strength I’d use to rip apart Prima, Vecter, Nexus, Quintus, Micronus, and so many others was not enough to push him off his feet. Instead, I was lifted and tossed aside.

Landing, I watched Megatron attempt to shoot him. Only, his fusion canon was grabbed, then forced into an awkward angle. This was right as it powered up for a second shot.

“My EEEEEEEeeeeyyyyyyeeeeee!” I heard him cry. I couldn’t help but cringe in my chest. I’d saw the schematics the constructions used to repair his frame, I know what that blast is capable of.

As I got to my feet, Megatron was already blasted through to the other side by Optimus’ thrusters. I need to get rid of those things.

Jumping on him before he could even turn back around. One claw at the top while the other slashing into its base. I tore his leftmost thruster clean off admits a flurry of smoke, fire, and steel.

My staff was released next, stabbing Optimus through his waist. But the angle was too far to the edge as he moved at the last second so it slid past his armour instead.

“Your cause dies with you prime.”

“You’ll be the only prime dying today.”

We struggled against each other. For once, it was not my strength that was the advantage, but my more nimble build compared to his.

The fleshling’s primitive construction served a fragile arena. Our bodies broke through its foundations with little effort.

Yet speed only goes so far. Optimus was not a slow fighter, he was ferocious as anyone with knightly training would. The powers of a prime and the training of a knight, what a deplorable yet fearsome combination. Even as I clawed into his guns causing them to destabilise and fall off, his fist impacted my chest armour.

One blow was all it took to slam me against a wall. His right arm released a superheated sword at my face. Lurching back, that blade slashed through my face plate, scraping my head against said wall.

This felt familiar, too familiar. It was almost as if I. No I definitly knew what this was. I chopped his arm, pushing it away and snapping the sword. Hoping to reach him again at his back, I danced around him clawing through his right thruster and released my spear.

“You picked the wrong planet,” Optimus growled grabbing hold of it before I can stab him. Then he overpowered me.

I had never experienced such painful damage for a long time. Not since the war against the Chaos Bringer. Not even my brothers brought me so low. My own staff broke out of my shoulder right into my chin, close to where Optimus had stabbed through my face plate.

My back was to him, making it easy to force me to my knees. Energeon leaked through my frame as panic settled in. Where was Starscream when you needed him?

“Give me your face.” Optimus’ voice was low, aggressive. I was not ashamed to admit I felt terrified for the first time in a long long time.

I knew where this was going, what was happening. I had always known. I didn’t understand nor know how, but I’d always had an odd feeling. Watching the matrix must’ve brought it to the surface or something similar cause until now I don’t remember ever dwelling on this.

‘Transformers, Revenge of the Fallen.’ Michael Bay’s second attempt at the franchise. How had I not realised? How had I, after so many cycles of life not understood? Why did it take until now?

I felt the pressure rising on my chin. The universe moved in slow motion, but I couldn’t even think straight in my own panic.

“I…”

“I REFUSE!” I roared back, even as the bits of cybermatter forming my face began to flake off. The true power of a prime, one of the ancient firstborn of Primus roared to life.

The scattered ruins of the primitive temple flew forth. Optimus grunted in surprise, one of his hands letting go to cover his face. My own reached for my broken staff wrapped around my head.

As the both of us were buried by rubble, a result of my own gravitational powers.

…

The universe danced around me as I blinked into existence a good 500 meters away from the rubble. My mass suddenly disappearing caused a chuck of the rubble to fall inwards. Energeon fell from my chest and face, splattering against hot desert sand. My arm felt weak as well.

“Grrnn, Gah!” I struggled with my bent staff, eventually tearing it to pieces. My ancient weapon fell into sand as my disciple and the fat lug of a seeker landed behind me.

“Maaasterrrr,” Megatron splurged out. As bad as my injuries were, his were far worse. He was held by Starscream who appeared as frightened as I had felt moments earlier.

“Did…did you win?” He said, arousing my anger. I would’ve snapped his neck were I a less patient mech.

In the distance, the rubble broke apart. Optimus Tore his way through, appearing no worse for wear. Our optics met, blazing anger against my own calming fear. He attempt to fly to us, but the right thruster glitched for a few moments before promptly exploding its top off.

He didn’t seem bothered however, a second sword emerged as he tore the backpack off. His armour inherited from Jetfire was badly damaged but still clung to him.

“Decepticons!” I roared out. My voice echoing across Egypt.

“Retreat!”

Chapter Text

In the exosphere of earth, the eternal watcher of the decepticons contemplated the absurdity of what he’d just witnessed. As ridiculous as it seemed, as unlikely as it seemed, the human Sam Witwicky not only delivered the matrix to revive Optimus Prime, but somehow the revived prime combined with the thick armour of the traitorous seeker into an abomination of power.

From the safety of victory, defeat emerged. Even a prime as ancient and powerful as the Fallen had failed. Soundwave found it hard to swallow.

His gaze, through the cameras of primitive earth based technology eyed B-127 reuniting with the autobot prime. Lingering on the yellow scout for several moments too long, he eventually ignored the boiling fury and turned away.

Fortunately, for all his newfound power, the autobot prime failed to eradicate his master. As long as they were able to flee the scene, the decepticons can fight another day. All for the restoration of beloved Cybertron.

By his estimation, the trajectory of Megatron, Starscream, and The Fallen was evident. But he sent a signal on their frequency anyway. This carried a message that directed them towards central Africa, in the savanna where little technology was present and no human satellites oversaw.

But just to be sure, he commanded neighbouring satellites to turn away. Just as well, he quickly deleted any and all digital recordings of his masters passing through the air. One thing he was grateful to earth for, its human software was nothing to a cybertronian communications specialist.

Next, he loaded his next minicon with Scalpel clones. The medical officer had unfortunately met his end, but his expertise was always backed up. Shockwave’s mechanisms made sure of that.

It took him less then a second to decide who to send. A bot that was quick, stealthy, and most importantly flight capabilities to catch up.

“Buzzsaw, eject.”

“Operation.”

“Restoration.”

…

This was a disaster, a bitter pill to swallow considering all the work that had been put into this mission. My constructicons scattered to the wind the moment I ordered the retreat. Primus bless soundwave for restoring some semblance of order. I had not even considered where to run to, just to get away as far as possible.

I heard a grown to my right. That was Megatron spitting out a mouthful of energeon. His face was hideous to look at. An injured cybertronian was not new to me, I had seen plenty throughout all the wars I participated in. Yet a small part of my processors felt it unpleasant and desperately wanted to jerk away.

There was nothing that could be done about his right arm. Not unless we harvested someone else for spare parts. The fact that we of proud Cybertron had to resort to this in the first place was a tragedy of the utmost.

The sheer desecration of my people. The decay of we as a civilization. It was despicable, far worse then what I imagined when Megatron found my sarcophagus and spoke to me for the first time in eons.

It subtlety reminded me of how hum…No! I refuse to believe it. How could I? One of Primus’ first born possibly be one of them? Stop thinking about them, I told myself.

The matrix had to have been tampered with. Some form of virus that addled the mind. That had to be it. I refuse to consider otherwise.

“Mmph,” I released an inelegant grunt. The tiny Scalpels wiring my lip back into place held on for dear life as I turned my head.

“Apologies great one, but could you…could you please stay still?” Their quiet trembling voices filled me with nothing but a painful reminder of my defeat. For theirs and my own sake, I remained still.

Beside me, Megatron groaned pathetically several more times. His thrashing was most unhelpful to the Scalpels working on his head. Starscream the fat turd watched fiddling with his fingers. I can’t tell if he was pleased at the result, as baffled as the minicon was, or terrified of what that descendent had done.

None of us expected this to happen.

When my lip and the rest of my face plate was entirely repaired by the little ones, that was when words were exchanged again.

“My masters,” it was not the seeker who said that. Instead, the tiny bird shaped minicon perched on a boulder did. “What is to be done now?”

I rubbed my lower face before asking him in turn. “How many survived?”

Buzzsaw raised his head to the night sky. I had no doubt he was asking his owner. “Excluding you great one, commander Starscream and lord Megatron, 31 of the 38 combatants have been confirmed offline.”

“Notably, constructicons CNA donors Mixmaster, Scavanger, and Overload have escaped the battlefield. The rest however…”

“Only a portion of devastator then.” Devastator was a useful tool. Large and cumbersome, but still useful. With the others dead, I would need to regrow more in the Nemesis’ facilities.

“Scrapper got offlined huh? Well that’s one debt less.” I heard Starscream murmur in the background.

“Keep silent,” I demanded of him.

“Of course of course. My apologies oh great one.”

“The autobots have offlined most of the protoforms. Though Soundwave spotted some taking disguises and are now in Cairo.”

The Egyptian capital, these infernal memories told me of such. It was smart, densely population centres made the autobots hesitate. But considering these incarnations…

STOP thinking about that life! I roared at myself again.

“Soundwave, are you listening,” I said aloud. A quick buzzing signal I received confirmed it. “Remain in orbit, direct our remaining troops here. Make sure none are spotted.”

“So…” I turned at the scratchy voice of Starscream.

“I’m guessing the constructicons will be rebuilding the Star Harvester?”

I scoffed, as if that’ll work. Not to mention the commotion that’ll cause given how large a harvester had to be, the lack of proper materials despite my own schematics.

“Without the matrix, even building a second harvester is pointless,” I admitted. Unfortunately for me, the matrix was caught up in Optimus Prime’s blast. It was too durable to be destroyed by such an easily thing, but I was too panicked and in too much of a rush to retrieve it. No doubt the autobots would have it now.

For the great machinery of us primes, the matrix was as much a symbol as it was a key. None of the command modules would work without authorisation from the matrix. This was how they were designed, to prevent reckless or unwanted usage.

I turned to glance at Megatron. His lone eye told me he was paying attention for all his pain. “Well…I suppose this planet has other resources we can convert to energeon. Fossil fuel, power plants, uranium, we’ll need to plan a takeover,” Starscream listed.

He was of course referring to synthetic energeon. Nothing like true energeon that used to flow from father Primus’ when I was born, nor the type the Star Harvester was capable of creating after activation. This synthetic energeon had also become the same substance they all used, including what they fed me after my freedom.

Whatever the case, we’d need the constructicons. Why were they even marched onto the battlefield in the first place? I had protoforms hatched on board the Nemisis. We didn’t even need devastator specifically to unveil the harvester.

Suddenly, I felt nauseous again. I had been the one ordering it hadn’t I. Why did I do that? They were builders first and foremost, they should’ve been building up a fortress around the harvester first.

“Soundwave was thinking the same. Mixmaster, Scavanger, and Overload are already on route, ETA a decacycle,” Buzzsaw helpfully added.

“A second harvester would require the retrieval of the matrix. Once we’ve built up our strength, we’ll strike the autobots again.” Starscream chuckled in anticipation. In the background, a groan of approval emerged from Megatron.

“Soundwave spotted the autobot prime removing his enhancements.” Buzzsaw’s optics projected a holographic footage taken from a satellite. “It seems his power was but a temporary short burst.”

“Ooh, ooh, ooh!” Starscream sounded giddy. “Last time in the forest was a simple enough ordeal. With the mighty Fallen with us the prime stands no chance in his normal state.”

Forest? Was he referring to the forest battle where he, my disciple, and Grindor assassinated Optimus? I turned my head as I wasn’t paying attention due to my erratic processor.

“Yyyyyeeeeeesssss.” Megatron pushed himself upright with his dinky arm. Pieces of metal detached from his stump making the little Scalpel clones panic. “Aaaallllll issshhhh not lossshhht.”

“Lord Megatron, Soundwave has broadcasted a signal to space. With luck, reinforcements will pick up the signal and return to earth.”

They wanted to reenact the forest battle? The most amazing battle scene of the movies?

Hehe, that was a fond memory. Optimus Prime was so cool in….

In…

In…

My optics widened as I scrambled to my feet.

“My lord?”

I blocked out whatever they were saying. This isn’t right. This can’t be right. Why was I of all bots recalling…what do I even call this? Both my arm servos was gripping my faceplate, my face one of horror and confusion.

Optimus Prime was the prime of my childhood. No stop that!

I loved the 07 movie, and DOTM, even ROTF wasn’t that bad. NO, no, no, no, no!

A growl escaped me. This was…this was…this was unacceptable.

“Nnnngh. Gggggrrrrrrraaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!”

I heard the gears shifting, the sound of metal scraping against metal, the whirling sound of thrusters. It took a moment longer to feel my own parts shifting around.

…

“I thought ancient cybertronians didn’t have cogs.” Starscream watched the chief bot he’d taken orders from up till now with no small amounts of trepidation. “Well I suppose cowards did tend to survive.”

“Massssshhhhhter.” Megatron’s half face scrunched into one of anger. His remaining arm sprung up slapping Starscream upside his head. The strength within his frame was still enough to punt the seeker forward.

Starscream’s words were disrespectful. But he did make some sense. Megatron couldn’t understand why his teacher had suddenly fled. Was he so weak willed that a single defeat broke him?

After the battle with prime, he'd even felt disappointed the performance of one of the legendary primes. All that arrogance came to nothing.

He sat upon a rock contemplating his next move. Even with his forces scattered to the wind, his teacher gone, and his body broken, Megatron always had a plan. The matrix in Optimus' hands was able to reactivate a cybertronian, Optimus' own revival was proof of that.

His master can't blame him for having other plans. After all, one couldn't simply not have backups.

Chapter Text

The vastness of this planet's air, rippled across the frame of my alt mode. Instinct, that was really all this journey was. My own maddened ravings made it that I had not really considered where I was going.

Behind me, I sensed multiple approaching targets approaching. Their primitive yet so intimately familiar technology cocked their weapons.

"Unidentified target confirmed."

"Weapons engaged."

Mere annoyances, I have no time to deal with you. I cut the thrusters at my back, suddenly ramming into the inferior human built machines. My own body was undamaged but theirs exploded on impact.

Yet I wished to not be on this planet anymore. Anything to not drudge up more of this state. Spacetime warped around me. Then my servos emerged to touch the haul of the Nemesis planets away.

Within the damaged star ship, I stumbled around dragging my arm…servo across the metallic haul. Pillars and eggs smashed apart, wiring snapped, seats flipped over.

"RRRRAAAAAAHHHHH!" I screamed into its lonely haul. "Get this out of my mind."

Even now, even hours…cycles after these thoughts occurred. My mind…processors continued to download this absurd notion.

I WAS NOT HUMAN!

"I AM MEGATRONUS PRIME!" I roared aloud. My chest plating heaved like how an organic's would, my servos trembled like an flushed organic. Like a human, I stumbled wobbly before catching myself with the Nemesis' interior.

That's right, I am one of Primus' firstborn. Not some organic male from that planet. It must be a virus of some sort, it had to be. It had to be unnatural.

I ran through the Nemesis, looking for the accursed thing I had left in its possession. The sarcophagus they trapped me in.

Accursed coffin, its surface was identical to the decepticon symbol. I ran my webbed fingers through its surface, interacting with it's systems. I did not know what I was hoping for, some sign that it was the cause? Some hope that they planned to humiliate me in this manner?

Between it and the matrix, I can think of no other. The matrix was far away, and this prison? It was not the cause at all.

I had spent thousands of stellar cycles in this thing, yet not once had I been as befuddled as I was today…this cycle. I ran a hand down its smooth surface, before punching it. Quickly, I felt myself calming.

As much as I tried to shrug it off, rage and roar at the concept, try as I might I cannot deny it.

"This is natural." It was an uneasy acceptance. I had lived too long for such a thing to be possible. But in my processors, I cannot tell the difference between what is foreign about it no matter how much my enraged state desperately tried to reject it.

"What a joke," I spat. My, what a human would call a soul, didn't experience anything unnatural either. No form of invasion, no displacement, my spark and frame was still my own.

A soft clanging upon the metal haul of the Nemesis drew my ire once more. Had I not demanded for peace? Had my disciple followed after me? Impossible, they had no access to a prime's right of a space bridge.

Around corner of the Nemesis, a red hand…servo clasped the edge revealing a face full of unease. The decepticon medic I immediately identified as…wait this was impossible. But it did bring some joy.

Standing in front of me defying my human thoughts was Knockout, someone who does not belong to this…I refuse to call this a film continuity.

"Uh…" his wide optics startled at the sight of me. "That is one ugly paint job. Though must say, the metallic blue on your face…"

"You dare," I spat at him. How dare this descendent criticise the glorious creation of Primus and Cybertron.

But the bot stepped back with a gasp. "That voice…the relic? But the t hat makes you."

"Knock Out what is going on?" The mech named Breakdown followed along with several more figures I recalled from ages past when they still crewed the Nemesis with Soundwave. But also those who should not exist according to the human memories. Skyquake, Dreadwing, Blitzwing, and some others.

"What are you doing aboard this rec." I channeled as much authority as I could manage, hoping they had not seen my breakdown.

They whispered among themselves, recognising my voice. The one that commanded the entire crew of decepticon elites.

"We received Soundwave's message to gather on earth for an operation. We…decided to stop by the Nemesis to collect some supplies."

"Slow," I found myself growling. Events occurred too fast since my hero…since Optimus Prime was eliminated. "Leave the Nemesis at once. Your leader has been wounded."

"Lord megatron has been found?" Skyquake uttered.

"Go!" I demanded. The Nemesis simultaneously began shaking. Clearly afraid, they complied and fled away. Yes, leave me to my peace.

When they were gone, my servos gave way beneath me. The metallic bang from my collapse signalled the end of this, episode as I'll call it. All the conflicting emotions subsided. Anger gave away to a calm melancholy.

"Prima, Vector, Alchemist, Nexus, Vector, Amalgamous, what would you six say if you were to see me now? Brought so low by the organics I despise. Brothers, would you laugh? Smirk in triumph? Assure me?

"And you, the rest of you who left our family. What would you lot think? The differences that split us. Onyx, where are you in the cosmos? Would you've supported the dynasty we built? I…"

It was strange, despite the other memories I now own, I have never felt more clearer. Gone was the millennia of hate, and mega cycles of indignation. For the first time in a very long time, I felt calm.

I didn't know how many seconds or clicks, days or cycles, I spent in this state. What do I even call this? My mind was akin to a storm in the ocean. Dark depths were pulled forth, raging back and forth in my psyche.

Eventually, I stood back up. The calmness of my mind taking in the view both around and within me,

Even with this realisation that it all felt natural, I still do not understand. How can a prime such as I experience this oddity? This was not some sort of fanfiction, this was life. I was born Megatronus Prime, not some dude in Sydney Australia.

I cannot get this out of my head, I needed answers, full clarity. So I sundered spacetime apart again.

The ability to open space bridges was innate to us firstborn of Cybertron. That and a slew of other abilities, most of which my weak frame can no longer access.

In a flash, I reappeared on Earth's atmosphere. Before my eyes/optics, the planet was a pretty one. Nnothing compared to beloved Cybertron however. A sense of nostalgia was all that remained.

"Where did Sam find them?" I wondered aloud. It was hard as such background information didn't matter in the explosion fes that was Bay. But my computer like mind searched for files that a organic mind would otherwise have forgotten.

"Jordan?"

Google maps informed me where that was, so close to the Egypt and the Harvester that it was silly.

I needed to find my brothers..

Chapter Text

“How dirty.”

The temple of was already ruined long before I dug my servo into it’s walls. My size too great for the previous opening. Yet one peek into its depths showed confirmed to me the validity of my search.

“All this time…here of all places?”

I would’ve laughed, shouldn’t laughed at the absurdity of it all. But nothing in me managed it. Perhaps the mech in frenzy that had met Megatron would’ve. Yet the new clarity of my mind went against that line of thought.

My right hand/servo pulled at the structure, collapsing it’s front entirely. Another pull of my powers excavated all the primitive temple’s remains. My optics widened ever so slightly.

“Brothers.”

Empty shells, lifeless and decrepit. Their frames lay in a mangled heap, barely resembling those I had once walked among. Not since the battles against Unicron have I seen them in this state, so decayed and devoid of life.

In my heart/spark, I had known of this long ago of course. Remembered as I tore into them when they confronted me about the star harvester. The anger I felt back then. But I guess the repercussions never did hit me until I saw them again. What a reunion this was.

I only stood here in a world devoid of Primus’ beauty. In front of my brothers laying undignified inside a dirty temple long abandoned. The conditions they found themselves in was unacceptable and those responsible needed to be punished. What’s more, those who disturbed their rest would be annihilated.

I was not as angry at my brothers, contrary to my own expectations. Which was strange as days ago I still felt an unrelenting fury. The calm within me was not foreign no matter how much I tried to deny it. I just couldn’t stay angry.

I stared into my clawed servo again. Was it wrong for me to be furious on their behalf even if I was the one who put them in this state? At the yellow scout and the human boy who disturbed their rest?

“Why were we ever fighting to begin with?” I murmured. In my recollection, that event felt so nonsensical. As if I wasn’t even thinking. Even if I remembered every detail of what was said, I still couldn’t make sense of it.

WHOOON!

“Hm?”

An energy field emerged around us. I tightened my servos in anticipation.

The sand and rubble around me seemed to float. The wind swirled as clouds concentrated into an epicentre. Reality flickered in front of my optics, giving me binocular diplopia. The frames of my brothers on one hand, and the dreamlike vision of a sunset in another.

“You’re frame is right there,” I grunted.

“And you should be offline.”

He sounded angrier then I felt I was if I’m being honest. He resembled my own frame, of equal height and dimensions. Spikier in places, armoured yet retained enough slenderness for swift movement. The dots of pale blue was very noticeable on his chest plate.

“Optimus should have offlined you Fallen. The boy failed then.”

“Hello Prima.”

Primus’ firstborn, my older brother shall we say, glared at me with a look of contempt. His own servo angled in an odd way, as if gripping a sword we both knew was not actually there.

For all his anger, I also sensed some nervousness in hiM. All around us were a product of his spirit to begin with. Unlike the physical world, it’s easier to read him here.

We Primes were always more mystical then technological.

“You won’t succeed Fallen. Even if…”

“I don’t the matrix Prima, nor am I interested in your spiel.” My lower right servo stomped the barren earth terrain, causing a tremor that sent ripples across this metaphysical world.

Where what was once a single setting, another metallic world resembling Cybertron’s wastes engulfed half of it.

My red optics bore into Prima’s blue. “I need answers brothers. Answers you WILL provide.”

“Oh?” Despite the flipping situation, Prima remained calm. Seems my words was somehow funny to him given his smile. “And what could the great Fallen ask me? The great Fallen who knew the solution. The great Fallen who paved the way. The great Fallen who has saved Cybertron.”

“What did you six do to me Prima? What did you hack the matrix with. What have you infected my mind with?”

Prima sent me a confused look. “What could we possibly do to you that you weren’t already Fallen?”

I was not happy to hear that. Within moments, I had him in my clawed servos. A single slam had me on top of him, threatening to rip off his head.

I was stronger then he was. My possession of a functional frame and my own restoration to power. I may be decayed after so many stellar cycles, but I was far stronger then he who spent that time as a spirit.

“Always a brute,” he spat. “You have a lot of audacity to ask anything of me after what you did.”

“You betrayed me Prima. I thought we were brothers. Fellow Primes restoring Cybertron together. But you betrayed ME!”

“Betrayal? Me? You ignored Unicron’s prison beneath our servos. And for what? A sun of better quality then average?”

“I would’ve claimed energeon for…wait what?” My servo unclenched from his chest as I stepped back in a daze.

“We were born together in Primus’ arms. Trained for that battle together. We saved you from his grip. It was us, all of us with the matrix that pulled you from his breath.”

“What are you speaking of.” My servo rubbed my faceplate again. My processors did not recall this. Or maybe I did? It was all so confusing.

“Look how that turned out. I thought Quintus’ spawns were evil, but you. You arrogant piece of scrap.”

“Earth’s son was lit by Primus himself during the primordial days. It could’ve produced a million times the energeon then even a hundred blue suns.” I did remember the argument we had back then. Some things may be hazy, but I could never have forgotten what started our civil war.

“On the same planet we locked away the enemy. Did you think we were the gods we once were? That we can just move a star with a flick?”

“That’s not possible.” I murmured in the midst of Prima’s rant. But I couldn’t sense an ounce of a lie from my brother.

“We should’ve left you to rot in his grip, Fallen.” Prima’s words carried so much resentment.

“No no no! It had to have been, had to have been. I was only trying to…” yet as I thought about it, I only realised how little sense all my actions made.

I turned to look at Prima, rising up from where I had held him. My processors drifted back to what I recalled of our early life. The cycles of training before hunting down Unicron, Primus falling inert, and all the events after.

When the Quitessans attacked in our absence. How Quintus begged for their lives. And how more and more brothers split off since then. Until the dynasty were left with 7. Then I…we were looking for ways to recharge a dying Cybertron, to save our home and creator.

“It doesn’t make sense.” I glanced over all these events with scrutiny. My own actions during and after. Particularly during our quest to save Cybertron. This planet, this particular sun and the decisions made made no sense.

I was too erratic at times. Too rash, too angry. I fought my own family when they disagreed with me. We were all in this together, I could’ve never done that.

I…I was born in Primus’ palm, a Prime containing part of my creator’s strength. Yet before that, I had come from another place. The realisation as to why those memories didn’t feel unnatural clicked into place.

“You did use the matrix to heal me once. Just answer me please Prima. Just after we sealed Unicron.”

My eldest brother chuckled. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about Fallen.”

“Because I am reasoning with you. Because for the first time in forever, I could think.”

“…”

Prima stood silently for what felt like an eternity. I hoped he realised my earnest, even if he hated me.

“You’ve yet to offline me yet,” Prima murmured. “Fine. Yes, we saw you corroded in Unicron’s breath. Your frame was turning dark, and our creator had been disabled. I saw your very essence succumbing to him.”

“Yes, and then I kicked Leige Maximo with my servo.”

“You also clawed off one of Nexus’ components. You were roaring and taunting at us. So we held you down and I retrieved the matrix. I saw the wave of corrosion in your essence spreading. You were so weak to it unlike the rest of us. We stood in the middle of it without issue yet you were consumed so easily.” He chuckled.

“So I used the matrix, ripped it clean off. And you were back to normal,” he said.

It sounded so brute forced, but I could understand it. They were panicked, Primus was unavailable to give them answers, and Prima just acted.

I had not recalled my original self since then.

“Thank you brother,” I said.

“You…you are not the raving lunatic I thought you’d be Fallen.”

This time I scoffed, “Please.” Evidently, he didn’t keep an eye on things nearly as much as he thought. Did I ever tell them what I was before this incarnations creation? Probably not, not that it matters now.

“My name is Megatronus, a Prime of Cybertron,” I informed him.

Having no business here anymore, I dismantled the metaphysical bubble we spoke in.

“Where are you going?” I heard Prima call after me.

“What I should be doing. Restore Cybertron.”

…

Megatron flexed the new right servo his underlings had just attached to him. The remaining constructicons and drones that had made it to this part of the African savanna couldn’t perform to his wants in the end. His frame was even weaker than what it was.

“Lord Megatron, I have located Shockwave in the nation the organic call Russia. But a third Autobot ship had also arrived in US airspace.”

Soundwave’s news made the warlord consider the next stages of the plan. Various parts of the Nemesis’ crew were already converging on Earth again with their pillars in tow. But they needed time.

Should he retrieve his chief scientific officer now despite his depleted forces? Could he afford the noise this’ll immediately make or let the autobots grow lax in their celebration before attempting it?

“My lord!” Starscream cried out just in time for space time to explode in their temporary base. The hulking figure of the Fallen bore down upon them once more.

“Master?” Megatron croaked out.

“My disciple, your deal with Sentinel holds true yes?”

Megatron couldn’t help but release a small gasp. How had he found out? No one bar a select few even knew. Much of his soldiers didn’t know why they had the pillars, just that it was valuable and it was better to steal them from the autobots.

“Answer the question Megatron.”

“Yes…master,” Megatron said slowly.

“Good. Starscream, retrieve all the hatchlings from the hatchery on board the Nemesis. Order soundwave to stay silent for now. Once your elites arrive, we will strike the Middle East’s oil supply.”

The mechs surrounding the area glanced at each other. “We building energeon factories my lord?” One of them asked, catching on to the prime’s intentions.

“Yes, and once our base is established, commence your deal with Sentinel.” He began hovering in the air after giving his orders. “I will retrieve Shockwave, have Soundwave send me his coordinates.”

With another loud, ‘crack,’ he disappeared into a spacebridge.