"Megatron!"
The sound of his own name made the warlord turn, and that was when the blade impaled him. Driven into his spark chamber, the yellow Autobot scout at the other end of it, heaving with the exhaustion from lifting the massive blade.
Suddenly, the observer was worlds away; in another life. A small, gold-plated newcomer, a fool, had seemingly felled a dear friend in the pits, in Kaon. The crowd had screamed, none of them had been cheering for the fool. They'd cried for the larger mech to tear the smaller apart.
But his compatriot had risen, torn the blade from his chest, and slaughtered the arrogant fool, ripping him limb from limb for even daring to think he could have been the victor, had even dared to entertain the notion that he might claim his spark.
Now, as Megatron toppled backward into oblivion, he knew that this would not happen a second time. Soundwave could do nothing but scream, his cries unheard and unheeded by the others in the chamber.
He screamed one word. A name. That of his master. His friend.
"MEGATRONUS!"
