It's finally here!

It's the story I've been kinda, kinda not, hinting at!

But this is such a short chapter!

I'm really not used to cutting things off so quickly :0

For now, I guess it'll stay short,

just to see if you guys like this series or not :)

I'm certainly excited about it :D

Enjoy!

Chapter 1

I Am Here

"No Sam!"

That moment.

"NO!"

A single, minute moment.

One where a pathetic, disgusting, flesh-ridden creature held the power of worlds in his digits, and shoved it above him towards the very incarnate of destruction and tyranny.

And then, where there should have been pleasant rapture lighting the crimson, marred faceplates of Unicron's favorite plaything, was replaced with anger. Followed by shock. And finally: pain. A pain unlike any before. A pain, that stretched deeply within, expanding and contracting all at once. A pain, that tore the massive figure from the inside out. Churning, broiling heat heightened to unfathomable levels, literally melting his innards and core. Neither war-ravaged wounds, nor The Fallen's spite felt as this paralyzing suffering amid himself did. This was new, and oh so raw in intensity and power.

Voices screamed his name, and screamed of the inconsiderable death he had spread. Parts of himself exploded internally, bursting forth in a volley of sparks as he reared back from the fleshling and clutched at the large, scarlet-orange hole in his stormy grey armor. Overloading files scrambled and looped in eerie echoes of his past, blinding him with a barrage of blurry, confusing mix of emotions, sensations, and experiences. Crimson orbs flickered and fizzled, overwhelmed by the phantom profiles and words. Agony seared throughout, digging like a rusted knife into the furthest, most intimate corners of his form.

Blue...such a bright, bright and gentle blue...puffs of white drifted along on the smoke-filled breeze, the burning ribbons of grey attacking the purity with merciless contrast. What irony he felt in this scene...such blue, so pure...attacked by the hateful wrath of the grey...

A numbness crossed over his frame, granting him undeserving relief when he was surely meant for so much worse. Primus...some spark must have hope in him yet...

Gurgling, pooling liquid collected in the way of his cycling, preventing him from gaining a proper intake of air. Time was a fool's game to play. And he would be no fool. No. Time would do with him as it pleased now. The former event of his defiance landed him...well where was he now?

Life was slipping from his grasp. Shadows were moving mentally and physically. Ignorance turned to realization. Light became all too bright. He could feel himself, slipping, melting, falling...

"You gave me no choice...brother."

And every light, became darkness.

26,492 Vorns earlier:

"Hello?"

Darkness. So much darkness. And pain.

~Systems unstable- beginning complete systems capability scan...scanning...~

"Hey, are you online?"

Familiar...so familiar, but...so far.

~Failures in vital relay areas accompany necessary shutdown protocol sequence in the following systems: Spinal relay, core relay, cerebral relay, conversion shaft processes, sensory receptors in point-five-seven-four percentage of complete circuit abilities, point-seven-eight-four-nine percentage availability in rotary and mobility mechanisms, complete inability to establish correct recover programming, corrupted ability in verbal communications, and corrupted ability in linked communication...Failing rapidly...~

"You can't possibly lay here all orn, now can you? There is much better ways to spend your time than recharging unnecessarily."

~Action of medical assistance *highly* recommended by chief officer personnel.~

Still, scarred features shook before two incredibly blue orbs shot open. A poke to the shoulderbolt set everything off.

Silver limbs flailed, throwing an already disoriented figure toppling over and across an unforgiving flat surface. Discomfort exploded across their side, throwing the air from their vents and causing them to lose their words. A larger form, they fumbled with gaining themselves and organizing the fluster of confusing senses bustling among their processor. Blinding white spread before their vision, blinding them for a brief moment. They could feel themselves on their side, their shoulderbolt smashed beneath their massive weight. A chill crept up across their chassis and spinal relay, the cold of the ground seeping the heat from their frame.

Finally, they just flopped onto their spinal support, chassis heaving and optics left wide open. Open...venting...life...

An incredibly solid shadow leaned over their vision, startling them again into raising their servos above their chassis in a defensive maneuver. Always protect the spark. That was everybot's first and only priority in battle.

Hues balanced out, followed by the dim mask hiding the profile from recognition. A slimmer figure appeared, with a sleek-fitting helm, delicate armored plates, and clad in a fascinating shade of sapphire blue. In contrast, their optics shone the purest of white, lighting up their faceplates and trickling a gleam over the smile captured in the soft expression. Instantly, the figure on the ground froze, struck senseless completely by this...this...

Primus, was she beautiful.

"Not a mute one, are we?" she questioned, a hint of laughter in her tone. It sounded like the soothing, bubbling mercury brooks by his domicile as a sparkling. The one she watched opened his lip plates, stumbling for something to say. Harsh pounding in his chassis signaled the racing of his spark, while the burning in his faceplates was evidence of the slight blue blush showing across his cheekplates.

A giggle from the unknown femme shocked him out of his stupor, causing him to jump. In doing this, he slammed his foreplate into a very hard, very unseen ledge. Pain shot throughout his cranial unit, scrambling his already frayed sense of processor at that moment.

A sharp hiss escaped his lip plates as he curled to the side, propping up on one elbowjoint while using the other to massage the sore spot he'd hit.

"Slag," he spat, shaking his helm. A gentle touch at his shoulderbolt caused his instincts to take over and he rolled, coming up in a kneeling position with his servos once again before him, his optics zeroing in on whom had touched him. The femme from before was staring at him, optics wide, her expression concerned.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she apologized, straightening as she placed a fist to her chassis. "Are you alright?"

"I'm..." lost for words, the mech quickly dropped his arms and stood, attempting at least some sign of dignity. A rev echoed through his throat, trying to restart his vocal capacitor. "I'm quite fine, thank you," he rumbled, turning his helm to the side. As he looked around, a sense of unfamiliarity gripped his spark, the surrounding area being nothing he'd seen before.

Medical equipment was spread evenly throughout the space, most of it located near, or directly beside, the medical berths lining the walls. It was a good-sized room height and circumference-wise, but the overall shape and appearance showed clearly of a need for an upgrade. In no way was this a place he found he'd been before.

"Would you mind explaining to me where I am exactly?" he asked, facing the femme again. She grinned warmly, causing an abrupt shock of electricity up his spinal relay. It didn't seem as if she'd seen his reaction, for she gracefully trod around one of the nearby berths and patted it, gesturing for the mech to sit. He followed her and did what she wanted, slipping up over the surface with his peds sitting comfortably on the floor.

The still unnamed femme returned to his front, a cosmetic tool in her delicate servo. "You would be in a medbay," she commented, her voice even and smooth as a cube of high-grade energon. "The attendance of the one beside the gladiator pits was full, so they sent you here to be fixed. I was the only medic on site, so I've been taking care of you ever since."

Ah, that's right. He was in a match with a mech by the designation of Blackout when he'd been injured. Of course, he'd won the match, but not even a click out of the arena, and he'd collapsed. But what had been the extent of his injuries? Suddenly anxious, the mech ripped away and twisted himself around, stretching his spinal support as he gazed down at his side. In doing this, he found a rough welding holding together what should have been a gaping hole in his protoform. Sensory receptors in that area had been disabled, enabling him to feel no sense of pain or discomfort while his wound regenerated naturally.

"You have my gratitude for aiding me," he responded, straightening himself again and allowing the femme to continue her work restoring his armor. "However, it was not needed." He lifted a servo and carefully pushed her own away. She looked up at him as her arm lowered, her spark-stopping smile now gone.

"But you were failing, and if I hadn't patched your injury, your systems would have sent you into stasis. Your wounds were overwhelming your recovery softwares," she murmured the last words, as if they were a secret kept only between them. The mech cracked a smirk, pushing himself off the berth and forcing the femme to step backwards in order to not bump into his far larger mass. Feet taller, and much wider, the mech was indeed a gladiator compared to this petite creature.

Though he felt both confused and interested by her show of care for his safety compared to the mostly indifferent attitudes of the gladiatorial pits' own medics, he knew he couldn't delve into this further. He'd been here for far too long already, and he knew it was past his time of stay. Orian would be waiting for him, and what fellow pupil would he be if he kept both his near brother and practical creator guessing where he was?

"It appears as though I am perfectly fine now," he noted, starting for the door. "So it is time I make my leave."

"Wait!" the femme suddenly grabbed his arm, the heat from her servos stopping the mech in his tracks. "You're still unstable. Are you certain you will be alright?" her question and the tone of her voice made him do a double-take, his spark speeding once again by it. When had he ever been worried over as this? When Orian fussed over his wounds from the pits most definitely. But hearing this femme show her own sense of concern was different somehow...

"What concern of it is yours that I remain functioning?" he inquired as he glanced down at her attractive features, his tone humored but his processor spiked in attention. This was a not a personality he had crossed with other than the one he considered his sibling. Speaking of...

"Considering your past injuries, I cannot help but feel worry for your wellbeing," she explained, slowly releasing his arm as her optics locked with his. "It is not in my nature to be as blatantly indifferent towards the state of my patients as similar to those bound to the gladiators in the pits - such as you surely must be used to." The mech's optic ridges came up, the egging presence in his spark urging him to stay and talk to this femme further. She was an interesting character, and he found he could truly have a sensible conversation with this obviously intelligent medic.

But, sadly, he could not, for his comrades were most likely trying to figure the reason for his tardiness in their next teaching. Sentinel would be displeased, while Orian would simply be anxious, as he always was. He couldn't stay, if the time on his chronometer was anything to go by.

"Perhaps this shall settle your qualms over me," he reached over to an idle datapad, turning it on and logging in the information he wished to share. Before long, he handed it to the femme, who studied it quickly before her expression became surprised.

"This is your contact information," she claimed, getting an amused grin from the mech. He nodded, pushing it further towards her. Just because he was unable to communicate further with her now did not mean he wouldn't be available later.

"Indeed."

The femme hugged the datapad to her chassis, giving him a broad and vent-taking smile. His spark stuttered at the view, and he pivoted back around to push aside the door before he once again found himself blushing blue at her. Before he could however, the femme stalled him, her digits curling over his armor to prevent him from leaving just yet.

"Megatronus," she pronounced, the name rolling off her glossa with ease. "I like that designation." When he heard his title moving so fluidly from her lip plates, his cycling ceased and he felt his chassis squeeze. His spark casing was in a flurry, tumbling and raging in a storm. What was this feeling? Before he could speak, she continued:

"I am Euphoria," her smile turned to a content grin. "And I sincerely hope to see you again, Megatronus."

Told you it was short!

But the next ones will definitely be longer :)

I'm excited for this story, I've been wanting to do it for a long time now,

So I hope you all like it!

I'm looking forward to seeing you guys next chapter :3

Man, I've missed this place :D