Hello, Nikesilvermoon here! After reading Issue #7 of The Lost Light, I wanted to explore how Megatron would make use of his second chance in the functionalist Universe, while trying to overcome the demons of his past. Please read, review, and enjoy!


Chapter 1: Rebirth

Everyone had gathered onto the platform already, but Megatron was still nowhere to be seen. There was no more time left. As the cackle of energy began to discharge around the awaiting Autobots, Rodimus can only stare at the empty opening of the chamber. "He's not coming," the prime muttered to himself. "It's time to go." Unable to look at the hole any longer, Rodimus averted his optics to the ground, feelings of disappointment creeping into his spark. With a blinding flash, and a mighty crack of lightning, the matter transporter and the Autobots disappeared.

Megatron dashed through the ruins, desperately searching for the transporter. Scrap, he thought, I'm not going to make it. He doubled his speed, frantically twisting and turning through the ruined hallways to get to the transporter in time. Finally, Megatron spotted a familiar doorway. He rushed into the chamber, and suddenly stopped.

In front of him stood the torn opening of a ruined wall and a familiar, empty platform. However, the Functionalist Council member was nowhere to be seen, and the room was painted green, not purple. The ex-warlord's optics had gone wide in shock, jawline dropping open in dismay. No, his processor howled in disbelief, I promised him! I promised that I would make it back in time!

Terminus was still waiting outside when Megatron ran up to him. "They're not in there!" He proclaimed, still stunned at his mistake. "I'm telling you, they're not-!" He was promptly cut off as a brilliant blaze of light lit of the sky. Both Megatron and Terminus turned their helms away from the intensity of the explosion, shielding their optics with their arms. A small part of Megatron's spark twinged in sympathy at Rung's death. The poor mech had already endured orns of torture at the servos of the accursed Functionalist Council, only to suffer in immense agony at his size increase. Still, he gritted his denta against the pain and used his immense size to destroy Luna-2, trying to abolish the Functionalist Council.

As the brightness faded, Megatron turned to stare at the night sky, a look of sadness graced his face plates. "They've gone. They left without me."

At his tone, Terminus laid a servo on the his shoulder, reminding Megatron of the days where a young miner, often beaten by his overseers for his defiance, would be comforted by an aged drill operative. He struggled not to lean in to the warmness of the servo. "No," his mentor's voice was resolute. "They've given you a second chance." The servo Megatron's shoulder tightened in reassurance.

However, Megatron shook his head in denial at the words of his old friend. "The'd already done that." And indeed they did. Now, he will never be handed the punishment that he truly deserves. Terminus stayed mercifully silent, at loss what to say at the mech's sudden grief. Megatron sighed, cycling air slowly through his intakes. Second chances. An image of a blue and yellow Autobot flashed in his processor, glaring at him with stubborn cerulean optics.

Bumblebee was the only mech that had the courage to say what Megatron truly has become in front of his faceplate. Not even Optimus Prime has attempted such a deed. When Megatron moved to slay Galvatron for his past indignities, Bumblebee intervened, saying that energon didn't have to be paid with energon. It was in that moment that Shockwave chose to fire his blaster, killing the yellow Autobot. After Bumblebee's death, Megatron was wracked with guilt; he had committed terrible atrocities through the millions of years. Even worse, he still relied on his rhetoric of freedom and equality for all Cybertronians to justify those actions. Seeing the monster that Shockwave was made Megatron realize that he was not so different inside his spark.

Horrified by what he has become, he abandoned his cause. Megatron could not look at the faces of him former followers without traumatic memories flashing through his processor. Most of these mechs joined him because they shared his vision of equal and just Cybertron. They listened to him with hope in their optics and determination in their sparks. And Megatron repaid their faith by sending them to be massacred in a war that he started. A war that turned Cybertron into a slaughterhouse.

That will never happen now. He was trapped in another dimension. On a hostile, unfamiliar Cybertron. In a world where he was never constructed. A world, Megatron suddenly realized, that the Functionalist Council still ruled. A place where millions suffered in the deep bowels of the planet just because of what their alt-modes were. A society still ravaged by inequality, ruled by injustice. Megatron cycled air deeply through his vents again.

They've given you a second chance. Terminus' words echoed through Megatron's processor. It resonated within his spark. Megatron's tightened his servos into fists, not of anger, but of resolve. "Terminus." His old mentor, who had stepped back in respect for his silence, looked up in surprise. "You're right. I have been given a second chance. And I don't intend to waste it." With that, he strode with through the city, intending to get to the slums. Terminus followed, struggling slightly to keep up with the swift pace. They stopped in a sector of dilapidated buildings and rusted walkways. An atmosphere of death and desperation permeated the air. The skeletal frames of addicts straggled through the filthy streets, clawing in pain at the lack of a fix. Sounds of moans and pained cries filled the air.

Megatron turned to face Terminus again. "Terminus. From the beginning, you have been there, guiding me." The old mech's mouth quirked upward at the statement. "You were the one who encouraged me to shared my vision, and you were the one who helped me spread my message." Megatron stepped close to Terminus. They were optic to optic now. "What I see here is what I saw back then. Mechs are dying, cast out by a society that only values their function. Corruption plagues the high places and inequality among the masses." Terminus halted in intake, optics wide in anticipation.

Megatron reached out his servo, stretching it out towards the old drill operator. "Will you join me again? Will you help me correct this wrong?" For the first time in a long time, a wide smile graced the old mech's face plates. He reach out his servo, and held Megatron's."Yes, I will."

A second chance indeed.