Invincible
By SMYGO4EVA

The conquest of worlds was always Megatron's one true goal, even on a planet such as Earth. The leader of the Decepticons knew that he would never stop at one planet, as he would carry out the path of his reign into the ends of the vast galaxy. War's clutches would gladly be his demise if drenched in the lifeblood of those who opposed him, and he would accept that death if it meant his victory. He would not let anyone stand in his way to secure that fate, not even from his former brother.

Megatron was a demon in a god-like machine, harsh steel and spikes encasing him in his own shell, not of Cybertron any longer, and not of other worlds. The progenitor of the Decepticons saw a clear path lying in wait for him, a path stained in the lifeblood of the Autobots; in cruel delight he would rip the spark out of each and every one of them until they were no more. They would become one with the All Spark while he would perish in his glorious victory - he would fall in limbo, where there is no realm to rule but his own, and that was enough for the tyrant.

Such nonsense of being deities like the Primes was beyond him, only rulers of a destroyed kingdom, sitting on their thrones as those lower than them suffer. A being like Primus would surely perish in his wake, and the blood of Unicron would flow freely, another essence to be seized.

The tyrant who called himself Megatron knew how to be satiated in every way possible, his claws stained in energon, in the crimson, rust-scented lifeblood of insects called humans; so no one would dare stand against him to make him be just like them - weak, defenseless and begging for mercy. He was not one to pay heed to the so called gods of Cybertron; the caste system a huge mistake of their planet and the gods he knew were dead, having faded to gunmetal grey a long time ago. As long as there were those who followed those false prophets, their essences would never be enough to quell his warpath. Hatred was never enough, the deaths of his enemies never satiating him. He knew that the death of his greatest rival would be too perfect for him, even if it meant he was to slay his former brother. He would hunt the last of the Primes down to the ends of the wretched Earth, to the corner of every universe until he would tear the Prime's spark, snuffing it forever- still, it would not be enough.

The lust for supremacy, the power that he never had on his own home planet, was what kept his place as a hellish being not of Earth, and now, not even of Cybertron itself, the well of life energy to be corrupted beyond healing if he had ruled the planet. His thirst would drive him mad, sanity having long vanished when he was not chosen to become a Prime, what was rightfully his, and not to his so-called friend. When he was not declared a Prime, his very lifeblood froze in his veins, his eyes crimson and his face becoming warped and grotesque, a visage of his descent to war-mongering madness, blinding him forever from the truth.

His lust for power would be what shall lead him to his downfall, even as Megatron proclaimed to be victorious, roaring out his hellish war cries, sending terror to his enemies and subordinates alike. It would tear him apart, but he was oh so hopelessly addicted to it, never-ending and reborn over and over again for all time. It would only eat him alive and swallow him whole, leaving a demon that was once in a god-like shell an empty husk. He would be thrown from his throne, his very spark, his soul stained in both blood and energon, and left with nothing but of what battles had made him into, when he had thought of himself to be invincible.