Chapter Text
He is in pain. In so much pain it feels like his helm will split in half with the pressure, exploding outward in a hail of shrapnel. Unicron’s voice thunders in his head demanding him to kill, stab, maim. Distantly Megatron sees Optimus forging toward Unicron’s spark even as he weakens with every step. Blinding waves of violet light flare around and behind his optics, so bright it hurts. His teeth feel as though they will grind into dust with the force it’s taking to keep himself under check.
Through the piercing pain Megatron feels a constant, bubbling fury. How dare Unicron believe he could control him? How could Megatron, champion of Kaon, lord of the Decepticons, ever be controlled to act against his own will? It is impossible, it is an absurd notion.
KILL!DESTROY!ERADICATE!
Despite Megatron’s best efforts, his blade burgeons from its sheath and his legs move with a mind of their own. To his horror, Megatron can only watch as his body moves without him, like he is a spectator in the arena rather than the gladiator.
Before him, Optimus falls to one knee. No. This cannot be how the prime is felled, not after so many years. Smacked down, shot at, blown up, this is how Optimus will die? At Megatron’s blade while said mech is unable to control his own body? No. Not after all he has done. Not after everything he went through.
I will not accept this. I ,and only I, will vanquish him. You can not kill him. You can not have him! I WILL NOT ALLOW IT.
With a carnal roar, he shoves at Unicron’s control until he returns to his body, mere feet from where Optimus is kneeling.
“Optimus!” The autobot leader raises his head, but does not move to stand. “Optimus! Rise, you fool. Finish this!”
It’s taking all of Megatron’s concentration not to give in to Unicron’s power. He feels his body quake with the effort to remain still, and his vision blurs with pain. Finally, far too slowly, Optimus begins to get up.
ANNIHILATE!GUT!BUTCHER!
Megatron’s lips pull back in a monstrous snarl as his blade swings up, ready to cut down the prime where he stands. Unicron brings the blade down.
Just in time, Megatron’s left hand catches his descending arm with a clang, inches from Optimus’s neck. The warrior grits his teeth so hard he hears them creak in protest. He will not be able to keep this up much longer. Already he can feel the joints in his left arm whining with the strain. Again the burning anger rises to the surface. He will not be bested by this arrogant god. He will not be bested by anyone! And he will certainly never allow Optimus Prime to be felled by any but himself.
But even as he thinks it, his strength wanes. He can not stop it. Megatron is going to lose.
A shocking stab of clarity pierces through the haze of pain. His raised arm falls away and remains obediently at his side, blade sheathed once more.
Did Optimus succeed? He looks up. Optimus is on his knees again, crumpled at the base of Unicron’s spark. The once powerful heart of a god now lies dead, silent and dark. Optimus has done it, he has killed Unicron the destroyer.
And he is at Megatron’s complete mercy.
The warrior considers this position as he approaches the weakened prime, having half made up his mind already. It would be so easy to end it all right here. Decades of war, bloodshed, death, and conflict would stop.
Optimus’s death would be a huge boost to Decepticon morale, not to mention the effect it would have on the Autobots. Without their leader to guide them, their team would dissolve into infighting and desperation, easily crushed.
Well, it’s decided then, isn't it? This is the end for Optimus Prime.
Megatron unsheathes his blade, raises it high, and prepares to end this once and for all.
“Megatronus?”
He has not heard that name in centuries. Optimus has turned back to look at him, his optics wide with surprise and free of guile. Something about it is familiar. He drops his arm and retracts his blade, still staring down at the Autobot leader in shock.
Optimus looks around, confusion furrowing his brows.
“Where are we Megatronus?” At last something clicks.
It would seem that the Matrix of Leadership had granted Optimus all the wisdom of the Primes, but its depletion has stripped it away again, including the memories he has acquired from when he first accepted the Mattix up until the point he had defeated Unicron.
The mech that lies at Megatron’s feet is not Optimus Prime, but his old friend Orion Pax.
He extends a clawed hand to his friend, who takes it gratefully and rises to his feet.
“There isn’t much time to explain. We have to leave immediately.” Silently, he sends a command to Soundwave to open a ground bridge, just as the portal to Unicron’s spark chamber bursts open. A trio of green, blue, and yellow surge into the room, weapons drawn. Arcee’s optics quickly absorb the scene and settle a glare upon Megatron.
“What have you done to Optimus?” she demands, turning her weapons upon the warrior.
“Who is that?” Orion asks, sounding startled. The ground bridge blooms, bright and welcoming before them, and Megatron seizes on the opportunity.
“Our mortal enemies,” he snarls, directing his cannon at the trio. “Go! I’ll hold them off.” He pulls off three shots in quick succession, two forcing Bumblebee and Bulkhead to dodge while the third misses Arcee entirely.
She charges forward, firing with abandon. As soon as Megatron hears the whoosh of Orion disappearing through the ground bridge, he turns to follow.
“Optimus!” That is the last thing he hears of the Autobots before he too is through the ground bridge and aboard the Nemesis. Stepping through the portal, Megatron frowns at the scene before him. Knockout, Breakdown, Soundwave, and Dreadwing are all pointing blasters at a very concerned Orion.
Well this will not do.
“At ease, soldiers,” he implores as he comes to stand beside his friend. “After all, Orion is one of us now.”
Orion’s welcome aboard the Nemesis has been… controversial, to say the least. Even as he walks the halls, hostile glares and hushed murmurs follow him. They quiet when Megatronus turns to give the offending mechs a glare of his own. The two of them stop at what Orion assumes is their Medbay as he peers in.
“This is where I must leave you, I’m afraid,” Megatronus says to him and places a hand on Orion’s shoulder. It is a comfort. “I must deliver an announcement to the crew which does not apply to you. In the meantime, please be assured that you are in the capable hands of our medic.”
Orion nods, but can’t quite restrain his disappointment at seeing his friend depart.
This ship is alien to him, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. Knockout, the red medic, ushers Orion into the medbay.
“Come in, I don’t bite. It’s good to see new faces around here, you know. Gets boring after a while.” Orion does not know, but he senses that the question is rhetorical.
He steps into the room with Knockout and surveys his environment. It’s generally quite chaotic. Random blades, patches, gauze, and even surgical equipment litters the space in no particular order. The cold white lights here seem even brighter than the ones in the main halls. It hurts his optics.
Knockout gestures to a reclined berth which Orion lays on hesitantly. Apparently feeling his trepidation, Knockout offers him a consoling smirk.
“Oh I know it must be scary, but don’t be nervous. I’m only going to do a routine check-up to make sure you haven’t brought any bugs into the place.” His gaze flicks to Orion’s shoulder before adding, “And perhaps do some detailing while I’m at it.”
Orion isn’t quite sure what to make of that, but doesn’t question it. Despite the mess, Knockout easily retrieves a scanner from his pile of tools and begins looking over Orion’s body. A thought occurs to him.
“Who were those other mechs with you when I came through the ground bridge?” Knockout smiles lazily, as if recalling a funny memory.
“Oh that. Well, the big blue one is Breakdown, my Sparkbond.” He says it with the casual air of familiarity. “The tall, skinny one is Soundwave, our communications chief, and the spiky blue one is Dreadwing. I know it wasn’t the warmest welcome but… you know. War, betrayal, mistrust, and all that.”
He waves a hand around as if to convey what ‘all that’ means. Orion supposes he understands, but then again he has no clue what has happened from the time he was in Iacon to now. When he had asked Megatronus, he had said he would explain “in due time”, whatever that meant. Now seems as good a time as any to ask.
“What happened… to Cybertron?” The red mech pauses in his examination, and looks away. Was it really that bad? Finally Knockout opens his mouth to speak when another voice interrupts from the doorway.
“What happened indeed.” Megatronus steps into the medbay and settles his bright red optics on Orion. “I believe it’s time you learned what has become of our home.”
Soundwave. Gather all units at the bridge. I have an announcement to make. Megatron departs from the medbay and makes his way to the bridge. He regrets that he has to leave Orion so soon after the blue mech has returned, but it wouldn’t do for his soldiers to be pointing blasters at him all the time. He feels satisfied to see most of the troops congregating in the pews as he approaches, muttering amongst themselves. At last he steps up to the control panel and turns to address the crowd.
“Attention all units.” The room falls silent. “As some of you may have seen, Optimus Prime is aboard the Nemesis.” At this, a wave of discomfited murmurs ripples through the congregation. “Fear not, however, for he is no longer the fearsome Autobot leader, but believes himself to be the Iaconian data clerk Orion Pax. He is to be treated with the utmost respect aboard this vessel, and the first to utter the name ‘Optimus Prime’ will have their spark forcibly removed.”
He pauses to allow the threat to sink in, pleased when a new susurrus of unease passes through the assembled troops.
“That will be all. Dismissed.”
The crowd slowly trickles from the bridge until only two mechs remain: Soundwave and Dreadwing, the latter scowling. Megatron regarded him coolly.
“Yes, Dreadwing?”
“With all due respect, Lord Megatron, do you not think it unwise to allow an Autobot, current or former, to have full access to the entirety of the Nemesis and its archives? The instant he regains his memory, the entire ship could be compromised,” he argues.
“I know with utmost certainty that Optimus will not return. As for full access to the Nemesis, Soundwave has already locked down all files regarding Orion’s past as a Prime and he will be unable to access them. Not to mention vehicons are constantly patrolling the halls. Should Optimus return, he will surely meet a swift end.” Megatron lays a hand on Dreadwing’s shoulder placatingly and his features soften into a look of sympathy. “Rest assured, my loyal soldier, you needn’t concern yourself with Orion. All has been considered.”
With that, he leaves, eager to return to Orion’s side. He hears Knockout’s voice along with Orion’s as he approaches the medbay, and his pump almost freezes when Orion says it.
“What happened… to Cybertron?” If Knockout answers truthfully or neglects to omit a detail, all of Megatron’s effort could go to waste. He had briefed him and the other commanders on the situation but…
He speeds up and luckily Knockout does not respond until he arrives at the door.
“What happened indeed.” Orion’s optics light up joyfully as Megatron enters and takes a seat on one of the unused chairs beside the medbay berth, beside Orion. “I believe it’s time you learned what has become of home.”
It is remarkably easy to omit certain details and twist some facts to change the course of history. Orion listens patiently, his face set in a grim frown, as Megatron tells of the horrors and atrocities “Ratchet” had committed against their kind. The Decepticons take the place of the Autobots, who have now become the aggressors, in the war for Cybertron.
Megatron internally grimaces as he tells of how Cybertron died, watching Orion’s face crumple with pain and defeat.
“I can’t believe- I mean… how could anyone-?” His expression contorts with anger now, furious at what has been done to their home. Megatron smooths his features into a look of grave understanding even as his spark leaps with triumph, it’s almost too easy with Orion soaking up every word without question.
“There is still one thing I don’t understand,” Orion says, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Why are we called Decepticons?” Megatron pauses only a moment before responding.
“A crass autobot scare tactic. But we have since reclaimed the title, for if speaking the truth is deception, then we are gladly guilty.”
The lie rolls smoothly from his mouth, like it has always been the truth. Orion considers this as Knockout, silent through Megatron’s recount, completes the last of his exams.
“Well, that’s all for now, unless you’d like me to re-weld that symbol.” Knockout taps at the Autobot logo engraved on Orion’s right shoulder. The blue mech’s face hardens with conviction as he looks into Megatron’s optics.
“I’ll do it.”
Megatron can’t help but smile now, baring all his teeth in a wide grin.