Rian: So hyped for this chapter and many others! I want to keep pumping them out XD
On an unrelated topic, I'm also super hyped for the Resident Evil 2 remake! It was my second favorite in the series so I'm excited to get it! ...and then make my friend play it for me XD I still have nervous Breakdowns from Outlast lol!
Misgel: Lol, lots of drama from this point out. As long as I can survive school to keep writing it. XD
I think it's safe to say everyone was traumatized by Outlast. XD
Jack was first of aware of a horrible ache strewn through his body, radiating from his struts.
"Nng..." he groaned softly.
The second thing he was aware of was the steady rhythm against his audio, not unlike that of a beating heart. Then he felt a rocking sensation, as well as arms wrapped around him.
He was... being carried?
He felt a solid warmth pressing against him, seeping into his own plating. Something enveloped around him, wrapping in a possessive, dominating field. Jack flickered his optics, but he only saw shadow above him, waves of light washing over him before they retreated, only to be replaced by another. He felt his body being lowered, the firm hold around his chassis retracting. Replaced by a warm, comfortable plush of a large berth.
"Nn…W...What...?" the youngling moaned, trying to make sense of where he was and what was happening.
But his processor was so slow, he could hardly make sense of anything beyond his exhaustion or the soreness radiating across his body. He heard low rumble above him, impossibly soft, like a purr against his audio. There was a warm, light touch to his helm, stroking. Someone spoke to him, but he could hardly make sense of the garbled noises—
Jack blinked. The world had steadily come into focus. He was first aware of shadow. It completely surrounded him as solid, black walls. A pale glow illuminated the darkness, showing a void that stretched out before him. Underneath him was a soft, warm material, that sunk underneath his weight. What was—
Then he met smoldering red optics.
He sucked in a sharp breath, venting heavily as the action caused a surge of renewed pain to course through him. A deep chuckle then rang in his audios, while Jack tried to move to sit up. Only for all the wires and gears in his body to be stiff, refusing to move. He only raised an inch with a pitiful squeak. Suddenly there was a large, warm servo over his chest, fingers splayed, gently pressing him back down.
"Hush, my little one," Megatron crooned, his voice like rumbling thunder, deep and low and oddly soothing. "The effects of stasis have not yet worn off."
Jack merely groaned quietly, trying to recall what happened before he fell in stasis, before it hit him like Bulkhead had just body-slammed him.
The tower collapsing, pain coursing through him, Megatron laying on the floor, unconscious and helpless. Until Jack had come along to save him.
With a gasp, the mech's gaze snapped back and forth, trying to decipher where he was. He instantly recognized the black walls and the gigantic berth of Megatron's quarters.
"W...what am I doing here?" he asked, his voice was barely above a whisper and optics half-lidded with exhaustion.
"I assumed you wanted somewhere more comfortable to recharge," Megatron replied, an echo of the words when Jack first awoke in the dark room.
The youngling only blinked, trying to remember what had happened. Everything was so blurry. He only remembered fire and smoke and screams. So many screams. Then he remembered being so... angry. At everything. At—
Jack gasped.
He remembered. He remembered they were there. His friends. Miko. Raf.
Suddenly images flashes across his vision. Poor, little, innocent Raf, crying out in pain and fear and sorrow as Jack lunged at him, over and over and over. How he had curled into a fearful little ball when the mech took to Megatron, presenting the independent, living genius like a dog presenting a bone to its master. Oh, Primus, what had he done?
Jack choked on a sob that tore through his throat, a tear sliding down his face. He couldn't have... he should never—!
"R-Raf," Jack stammered, not realizing his vocalizer cracked with static. "Where's Raf?"
He had hurt him. He had hurt Raf. His best friend. His brother. Jack made a promise to look out for him, protect him—
"He escaped," Megatron answered, his voice turning into a low growl as he added, "Along with the rest of the Autobots."
Jack let out a shuddering sigh at that, relief washing through him. His friends were safe. Knowing that they weren't dead was enough. No one had hurt Raf. But then, what happened to—
"Is Miko alright?" he demanded.
Megatron tilted his head, optics ridge raised quizzically. Judging by that distant look in his optics, Jack determined the Decepticon leader was sending a transmission. There were several moments of silence, when suddenly the tyrant's crimson optics flashed brilliantly.
"She is fine," he purred, flashing sharp denta.
"G-good," Jack said contentedly, laying back down fully now that he had nothing to worry about. Nothing except the warlord bearing down over him, that is.
The Decepticon's vermilion optics stared at him intently as he spoke in a deep, thoughtful rumble, "Even when you barely function, you continue to care for others."
Jack frowned. He knew it was a foolish thing to say, especially to the leader of the Decepticons, but he couldn't stop himself from blurting out, "I care about my friends."
Megatron quirked an optic ridge. "Only them?"
"...You're alive," Jack pointed out.
"Indeed."
"I... didn't think you would make it," Jack admitted truthfully, unable to even consider lying under that red gaze. "You look like you were falling apart—"
The mech immediately hesitated then, realizing the proud warlord would not appreciate being reminded of his weakness. He stiffened, fearing that the warlord was about to draw energon in retaliation for seeing him in such a state. Instead, Megatron merely nodded slowly, his expression inscrutable.
"How fortunate, then," the tyrant mused, placing his claws on Jack's chest. "That the Blood of Unicron binds us together."
"I-it wasn't that—"
"Oh?"
It was a single syllable, not even that. Just an ex-vent, yet it spoke volumes. Jack couldn't get his vocalizer to work. He didn't know what the Decepticon expected him to say, if he expected anything at all. How would he even begin to explain himself? The mech didn't even understand what had drove him to that tower, and what had drove him to sheathe his blade. It was all still a blur, his spark even more so.
Unable to find the words, Jack tilted his head downwards, looking at his wringing servos. Until careful, gentle claws seized his chin, bringing his gaze back up to meet vermilion optics.
"You surprise me, my little one."
The youngling only blinked, as his vocalizer still refused to function. He was frozen as Megatron slowly rose from the edge of the berth. The titan walked away, but the younger mech noticed that his slow, steady gaunt was off. His body shuddered unevenly with each step. Almost like—
"You're hurt," Jack realized, trying to force himself to sit up, but his body still refused to obey.
"It is nothing the dark energon running through my veins cannot heal," The warlord stated bluntly, shaking off his worries.
The silver titan slipped into an adjoining room, which Jack recognized as his personal storage. Instantly his tanks rolled. Megatron was giving him dark energon? Already?
Gritting his denta, the mech slowly, agonizingly, forced himself into a sitting position. He slumped weakly, ex-venting heavily. Still, he didn't fail to notice the dictator lingered within longer than usual. Finally Megatron re-emerged, sure enough, with two cubes in his servos. However, Jack realized it wasn't the usual dosage of dark energon. Instead of the deep violet essence, or even the sweet blue of pure energon, the liquid was a pale shade of red, glowing brilliantly.
"W...what's that?" he asked.
Instead of answering, he settled onto the berth beside the youngling with languid grace. He handed one of the energon cubes, which Jack hesitantly and carefully took with two of his servos. A thick and sturdy arm pressed against his back, propping him upright.
He winced as his stiff joints protested the movement, but the pain faded quickly enough as Megatron removed his arm, once he was certain Jack wouldn't topple over. He stared down at the reddish liquid. Jack would be lying if he said he wasn't the slightest bit worried.
Either using the bond or reading his expression, Megatron must have notice his apprehension, explaining, "Do not fear, my dear. It is a higher grade of energon. It is considered a delicacy on Cybertron."
"Like... liquor?"
Another amused huff. "You'll find it's slightly different than a mere added chemical."
When Jack just frowned in reluctance, the warlord reached over, pushing the drink towards his lips. With a quick sigh, the mech understood the order and took a sip. It had an odd, sharp taste, but not as foul as dark energon and not as sweet as pure energon. It vaguely reminded the former human of the taste of wine.
Jack never really experimented with drinking. His mother was a nurse at a hospital and did everything in her power to prevent her son from touching it. She would constantly tell him horror stories, from drunk driving to alcohol poisoning to liver transplants. She even went as far as to not have any in the house. After being constantly discouraged and never having access anything alcoholic, the most the teenager had was a few sips, each one sending him recoiling with its bitter taste.
"Do not waste a drop," Megatron told him firmly, taking sips from his own cube. "A delicacy such as this must be savored."
Jack only squinted at the words. The Decepticons and Autobots alike were struggling just to find regular energon to function. Something such as high-grade energon must have been rare on Cybertron, and even rarer on a distant planet like Earth. It made him wonder, then, why Megatron was sharing something so scarce, especially with him of all mechs. Why now of all times? Was the Decepticon leader celebrating he survived to warmonger another day?
His helm was buzzing with questions, but the mech did not dare question it. Instead he quietly took another delicate sip.
"Tastes weird," Jack couldn't help but murmur though.
"It is a bit strong, I know," the dictator admitted. "But it is an acquired taste."
A single claw took the bottom of the cube and tilted it up, encouraging. Jack took another sip of the drink, his optics going half-lidded. Maybe it was just him, but he could swear the flavor was more...intense somehow.
The high-grade settled strangely in Jack's tanks. It tingled in his reserves before spreading through his fuel lines. He felt every wire in his body seemed to come alive with electricity. Almost like his system was overworking itself, feeding back the same sensations through his neural net over and over.
The claws on his wings were so much more acute than they ever had before. Up, down, up down, in slow, calculated, comforting circles. Jack wasn't even aware he was leaning into the touch. While his body was alive with a new kind of energy, his processor was in a fog.
"There are rewards for serving me, my Quickclaw," Megatron's voice was a quiet murmur against his audio. Unlike the youngling, the titanic champion seemed unaffected by the effects of the fuel. "Continue your loyalty to me, and I will ensure your happiness."
"Yes, Master," he murmured sluggishly, finishing off the last dregs of the high-grade in his cube. Another shiver ran through him as the talon moved over the edge of his wings.
He felt Megatron's lips curl into a smile against his audial fin. Talons carefully pried the now-empty cube out of his servos, and another set gently guided him to a warm, solid chassis.
"I've never had alcohol before," Jack admitted, smiling lazily at nothing as he relaxed into the hold easily.
An amused snort, the tips of talons playing with the tip of his wing.
"I thought it was a substance you humans quite enjoyed," Megatron replied.
"Mom was... strict with that kind of stuff."
"Ah, I see. Your Carrier must have been a stern figure in your life," Megatron mused, to which Jack sighed longingly.
"Well, yeah, I guess," the youngling muttered, his spark aching as the image of the woman flashed across his vision.
When was the last time he saw her? Did she even know what happened to him? He couldn't even imagine how she would react, learning that her son had been turned into a giant metal being. He could already hear her infamous scolding tone, if she ever found out he indulged in alien alcohol. Jack never thought he would miss it.
"She was... real protective of me. I was all she had."
Now she was alone.
"I thought humans lived in cohorts? You did not have a Creator?" Megatron asked curiously.
"I... I did. But he left. ...I was too young to remember him."
"Ah," Was all Megatron said, but Jack continued on anyway, his mouth moving faster than his processor could think.
"Doesn't matter though," he murmured. "We were fine on our own."
Jack never really thought about his father. He only had images of a faceless silhouette, and remembered a voice, usually loud and harsh and slurred. There was a time that he wondered what his father was like, what it would be like to meet him. As a child, he even entertained the idea that the man would come home. However, as he grew older and more weight was added to his shoulders, he stopped fantasizing.
The wishful thinking was replaced by bitterness. His so-called father was a selfish coward, that abandoned his family and left them to fend for themselves. Mom had to work twelve hour shifts at the hospital just to pay for bills, while Jack worked every spare hour to save for college.
"Have you always cared for yourself?"
"Mhm-hmm," Jack hummed, nodding against the titan's chest. "I'm... used to it."
"And the others?" Megatron persisted.
"Yeah," he mumbled out, words a little slurred. "Got to... protect my friends."
"You must care about them very much."
"They're... the only ones I have."
The claws continued their rhythm. Up, down, up down. "And now?"
"I guess..." Jack paused, the fog dense over his head. "I guess I have you, too."
The claws slipped from his audial fin to the back of his neck. The chest underneath his helm shifted and the little mech felt hot ventilations against his audio.
"Then I am pleased that I have you as well," Megatron rumbled against him in a satisfied purr. "For I would not be here now."
Jack fluttered his optics, as the revelation of what he had done sunk in. He had saved the lord of the Decepticons, the Autobots and mankind's mortal enemy. The one that wanted to conquer this world. Did that make him a Decepticon?
The former human didn't want to think like a Decepticon. He still loved his friends. He would always love them. But they did love him? After everything he had done? Did Arcee? What about Miko, Raf? He would not blame them if they hated him, after he so cruelly attacked them. After he helped destroy a city, robbing hundreds of lives. Jack closed his optics, a cold, dark revelation washing over him. Decepticon or Autobot, one thing was clear.
He was never going home.
He turned his head away slightly, feeling his optics beginning to wet again, before he blinked them away. No. He was done crying. It wouldn't fix anything. It wouldn't bring everyone that had died in this stupid war back to life. It wouldn't make him human again.
So instead, Jack huddled against Megatron's side, wrapped in the tyrant's possessive, protective arms. He buried in his face against the Decepticon insignia. He felt the sparkbeat underneath, sickeningly comforting, soothing, lulling. Jack shuttered his optics.
He was no longer a human.
The mech fell into recharge in the master's arms.
Megatron carefully settled the youngling that had fallen asleep against his chest back to the berth. When mech stirred once, a little nudging through the bond was enough to send him back to recharge. Now that that was taken care of, he had some other business to attend to.
He had not lied to Quickclaw when he had said he had contacted Shockwave. The scientist was surprised, at least as much as his monotone voice allowed to show, that his lord was up and about, but assured him that he had treated the femme's wounds. And that there was a much more interesting development, something that the Decepticon leader should behold for himself.
It made Megatron triumphant.
The Fall of Darkmount was a tragic loss, no doubt, but not crippling. Along with Optimus's resurrection—curse him to the Pit. It truly seemed the warlord would never be rid of his ancient rival. Back and forth they would go, the tides of war constantly turning, for all of time. Like Primus and Unicron, in the battle of Creation and Destruction.
However, the war was not in the Autobots' favor. Not when their precious pets were his.
Megatron glanced down at the still form of Quickclaw—the former human, Jack. Recharging, overcharged, and dark energon in his spark.
The youngling was his. He had been snatched away from Prime's protective hand by his own clawed digits. Once a prospective Prime in the making, he was now a ward of Megatron, who himself, by all rights, was a disciple of Unicron.
And the Decepticon leader would never let him go.
Not when everything was going exactly to plan.
Prime had tried so hard to shelter the little insects, going as far as to fill them with ridiculous notions of peace and freedom and righteousness. However, little did the Guardian Knight understand, the humans were a different kind of race.
Born from the shell of Unicron, the ancient being's CNA had been the seed of their DNA. In all arguments, it could be said humans were the spawn of the God of Chaos. And how chaotic and destructive they could be.
Megatron merely had to press the right buttons, at the right time. Oh, he knew it would be a long process, and he still had a long way to go. But he had waited millions of years for victory, millions of years to learn how to manipulate allies and enemies alike. He knew from the moment the younglings were in his possession, that he would bring out that dark nature that lay dormant in each.
Corrupting the most prized of the trio had been the start, watching him slowly descend deeper into his hold. Giving the femme to Shockwave had been the second-from his first encounter with the unruly femme, Megatron understood it would require a precise, patient hand to deal with her.
And like always, Shockwave had delivered him results.
The warlord entered the scientist's lab, and was not surprised to be greeted by Shockwave, completely engrossed in one of the many monitors. The Decepticon lieutenant immediately paused at the lord's entrance, even turning around to greet him.
"Lord Megatron," the chief engineer said as expected of him. "Do you require my assistance?"
"I am curious how your 'pet' project is coming along," Megatron replied, claws folded behind his back, purring with the play-on-words.
"Excellent, my lord." Shockwave turned to press a key, filling the screen with schematics. The Decepticon leader stepped forward to take a closer look. "However, I require additional research, to ensure maximum results."
The lord nodded. Shockwave was nothing if not a perfectionist. A trait that made his experiments longer than Megatron would have liked, but made up for it with the end results. He was eager how this one would turn the war in their favor. They desperately needed it, now more than ever.
"Very good, Shockwave," Megatron purred. "You never fail to impress."
The Decepticon bowed his helm in humbleness. "Thank you, my liege."
The lord turned to his lieutenant. "Our cause is in more desperate than it ever has been before. If we are to maintain any advantage over the Autobots, your work must remain your top priority. The completion of Project Predacon must remain paramount."
"It will be done. I have an off-site laboratory, in which I plan to finish incubation."
Megatron's spark pulsed with excitement. That only left— "And the femme? Where is she?"
"Recharging."
"Oh? I assume she sustained significant injuries?" he inquired, raising an optic ridge at the mech.
"Nothing I could not repair," Shockwave dismissed as he guided his leader deeper into the lab. "She has been... stimulated, the past few cycles."
The pair came to a berth, and sure enough, the slave was lay across it. She recharged the same odd way Quickclaw did—on her side, arms underneath her helm, knees close to her chest in a loose ball. Must be some lingering human instinct their systems. Megatron did not fail to notice that the Decepticon shield on her arm was marred by scratches—again. Shockwave would have to fix that, later. The scientist moved forward, only to pause when the lord raised a servo.
"I know how handle a sparkling," the ex-gladiator rumbled. "You are excused, Shockwave."
"My work—" the scientist started, turning to look at the monitors once again. Megatron would have none of it, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"Can wait a few breems. This will not take long. Leave."
"…Yes, Lord Megatron," the mech stated before making his leave after a slight pause.
Megatron waited into the laboratory's doors sealed close until he approached the femme. He lay a servo across her shoulder, shaking gently. It took him a brief moment to remember her human designation.
"Miko."
The femme shuddered at the touch, curling in on herself even more. She mumbled something incoherent in her sleep. Megatron frowned, shaking her again. With a light groan, red optics blinked online.
So it was true. The former human's raging emotions finally got the best of her.
The dominant traits of a Cybertronian's personality determined the color of an optic. As scientists could not agree on a logical reason why, many believed in the old tales. If an emotion touched the spark, then it would seep into the energon that flowed through the veins, thus changing one's very appearance.
Megatron had seen quite a fair share of Decepticons with a calm, blue gaze, just as he had witnessed Autobots with a burning, crimson glare. And of course, there were other unique shades. Gold, violet, viridescent… the list was endless.
"Mmg...nn..." the femme murmured as she was stirred into the waking world. Her optics flickered, only to offline in an attempt to fall back into recharge as she spat spitefully, "Go away, Cyclops."
"Shockwave is not here, my dear," Megatron replied in an amused purr.
Miko's gaze went wide and bright with a sharp intake of air.
"Y-you!" she shouted with a start, jerking herself backwards and away from Megatron in a hurry.
She was denied when the tyrant reached out, cupping his servo underneath her chin and tilted her gaze. Her optics were a bright shade of red, as was common with those recently converted. Suddenly the femme jerked in the hold, lashing out her claws with a furious hiss. Megatron quickly retracted his servo, chuckling.
"Ah, that's the spirit," he praised in a satisfied smile.
"Get away from me, Buckethead!" she spat out venomously. "You...you...you're the reason that all of this horrible stuff has happened!"
"And how is that, little one?" Megatron crooned, tilting his head in mock curiosity.
"You kidnapped us!" she shrieked, holding her servos out defensively in front of her. "You used us against our partners! Y-you... you turned us into this!" The femme gestured to her frame before continuing, "You destroyed our home, took away our freedom... You gave me to Shockwave!"
Miko's optics blazed brighter and brighter with each word, her entire chassis trembling.
"I know you were the one that told him to torture me. Everything in his power to keep me locked up and my powers in check."
An exaggeration, but it wasn't precisely false. Megatron had given the femme to his chief engineer, as Shockwave was the most capable of reigning her.
"Just like you did something to Jack!"
"Ah… so you've noticed our... connection?" the tyrant purred, grinning a little more now.
"Jack is my friend! What did you do to him?!"
The girl glared at him defiantly, as he expected her too. Although her physical appearance may had been altered, her naïve view and skewed allegiance were unaffected. This one would be more difficult to break. But Megatron was patient. It was only a matter of time.
"Hmm, I find it curious you are more concerned for him than yourself," Megatron mused. "It must be a human concept. Surely the Autobots did not implant such a trait in you."
"We're friends because of the Autobots! They brought us together!"
"And yet how easily they left you to be torn apart."
"That's not true! Bulkhead tried to save me, and he's never going to stop trying!" Miko snapped, optics blazing.
"Oh? And when did he tried to 'save' you, Miko? When he abandoned you on Cybertron? When he collapsed the tunnel over your head? Or it was when he and his compatriots destroyed Darkmount, well aware you were still within? If it was not for Shockwave's quick thinking, you would have perished."
"No, you're wrong!" Miko retorted sharply. "They had the groundbridge open—for all of us. If it weren't for Shockwave I would have escaped with him!"
The femme glowered at him, gritting her denta as the warlord bared down on her. She wouldn't give in, wouldn't believe the lies spilling from his twisted mouth. She wouldn't be fooled by his silver-tongued words.
However, Megatron's grin was wicked as ever as he continued, "Just like they had opened the groundbridge on Cybertron?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Ah, I forget. You were in critical condition—you would not remember."
"Remember what?"
"How they abandoned you."
"Bulkhead—"
"Left you to rust on Cybertron, while he and the others fled through that groundbridge, that was 'open for all of you.' Just like Rafael had escaped—without you."
Miko opened her mouth to refuse, to tell him he was wrong and delusional, then Jack's harsh, hurt voice rung in her audios.
"Why did they save you and not us?"
Still she wouldn't—couldn't believe that the Autobots, that Bulkhead would leave her for scrap like that. Not her best friend.
"You're lying," she spat venomously, but Megatron only blinked lazily. "Why would the Autobots just bail on us, after everything we've been through together?"
She realized that was the fatal flaw in the warlord's argument. To him, humans were just pets. Entertainment for the larger race, and could be replaced easily. He didn't understand the bond of trust and companionship between the humans and Cybertronians, the love and friendship that made them partners. He could never understand.
"They probably didn't even know," she continued on. "Raf was closet to the portal—he was the only they saw for sure as they left. That's why they saved him!"
"Or," Megatron said in a deep, lazy purr, "they grew tired of you."
"N—"
The femme didn't have the chance to protest when the warlord continued, "How often did they reprimand you, Miko? Restrain you? Dismiss you as a frail, weak, little girl?"
How many times had the Autobots tried to stop her from running head-on into an open groundbridge, or pushing her away from a live battlefield? Oh, way, way, way too many times to count. Many of them were unsuccessful. She didn't understand what the big deal was. She just wanted to be part of the action, be part of the team! Bulkhead always scolded her, yes, like a bossy, protective brother. Not like she was a burden. Right?
No, not a burden. He liked taking her out onto missions! He just... didn't like to see her get hurt. That's all.
"I clearly remember how they tried to hide you from me when I visited your little base," Megatron continued, ripping her from her thoughts. "And yet that did not stop you from challenging me."
"Like I would let my friends face you without me!"
The statement only made Megatron chuckle. A clawed servo reached out.
Miko instinctively flinched, conditioned to rear from Shockwave's cruel touch. However, the pitiful berth offered no escape, and the tyrant easily seized her broad shoulder. But instead of the crushing pain she expected, the hold was loose and almost gentle. The talons moved, and the femme instinctively winced, but there was still no pain. Only circular, rhythmic strokes.
"It is almost a pity, that the Autobots were blind to such a brave spirit," the Decepticon leader mused, almost in a possessive purr. "Very few have had the foolishness to insult me, and fewer have survived."
Miko remained silent, staring into those frightening optics with a defiant glare, but held her glossa while the servo remained on her shoulder.
"I thought they saw some value in you, after you vanquished Hardshell."
Miko blinked, slowly. Then her optics narrowed, hardened and she spat out, "They never doubted I was a Wrecker after that."
"Hmm..." Megatron only hummed, still petting the prisoner. Miko tried to lean away, but the dictator did not relent. "What was that silly phrase they say? 'Never leave a Wrecker behind?'" That cruel smile widened, revealing fangs. "Then it stands to reason, if Bulkhead so blatantly abandoned you, he did not share the same sentiment."
Miko's optics flared, the femme jerking forward to shove the warlord, hard. Megatron was pushed back several feet, while Miko brought her servos up to her chest, fists balled.
"You're lying!" Miko screeched. "All you do is lie! All of you!"
"Was it a lie that the youngling came only to sabotage my tower, and not to rescue you?" Megatron returned to his full height, not at all bothered by her attack. If anything, he looked smug as ever. A wicked, sure grin spread across his lips. "They left you to die, not once but twice."
"Shut UP!"
Miko's veins filled with fury. There the sound of transformation hit Megatron's audios as the femme's arm transformed into a battle-axe, which she reared high into the air. She rushed the distance between them in a flicker of an optic, surprising speed for her frame. However, Megatron anticipated the attack.
He languidly raised an arm, keeping his sword sheathed. Sure enough, the battle-axe came down, its sharp, broad blade embedding in a gap of armor. The ex-gladiator didn't flinch, even as dark energon leaked from broken fuel lines. Instead, he reached out with his other servo, taking hold her wrist in his claws. The former organic shrieked in protest, flailing in his hold.
Megatron merely tossed her to the ground, erupting a startled yelp from the femme. Taking advantage of her dazed state, the titan straddled her torso, settling almost all his weight on the little youngling. There was a groan of dented metal, but Miko didn't seem deterred, claws scratching at his chest. The warlord merely regained his hold on her arms, pinning them above her helm.
"Get off of me! Get off of me!"
Her movements had lost all logic, just a wild organic, desperate to get away. It must have struck deep, to be defenseless in the hands of the enemy.
"Have you finished?" Megatron questioned, his tone mockingly calm.
"I'll kill you! All of you!" she spat, her legs flailing wildly with the rest of her. "You'll regret ever stepping foot on Earth!"
"If you want to kill someone, my dear," Megatron purred, seizing her chin with his large servo, forcing her to look at him. "Then start with the Autobots. You would not be here, if it weren't for them." Before the femme could even work up another scream, he leaned in close, very close. Forcing the slave to look into his optics, and he knew she could feel his ex-vents. "And you know that, don't you?"
She trembled, either in fear or from the strain of bearing his weight or both. Megatron shifted off the femme slowly, deliberately, showing her who was really in charge here.
Predictably, she leaped the moment she was free, but made no movement to attack him. The former organic stood as a statue, one that glared almost menacingly at him. Her EM field was unrestrained, hot and intense with distressed fury.
Megatron wasn't surprised by her violent emotions. Most mechs that converted tended be lost in their rage for a while. Shockwave would teach her to reign in that bloodthirstiness. Or, even better, turn it against the Autobots.
"I shall leave you with your new thoughts," the Decepticon said after moment, in which she did nothing. "No doubt you have much to think over."
With that, the warlord sauntered out of the lab, leaving Miko with her corrupted spark. Now it was time for the next phase.
