He was awake two orns later when the guards came to get him. He didn't ask any questions when they beckoned for him to come out the door, and he walked calmly between them, memorizing the turns they took.

They came eventually to a high-ceilinged cavern. The walls had been carved out to make a circular arena that was roughly the same size as the one Megatron had fought the roc in, except that this one wasn't open to the sky.

Two mechs stood to the side of the room, watching as Megatronus came in. They had been talking, but they stopped when he entered. The guards stood just inside the doors, and Megatronus hesitated, unsure if he was supposed to approach the other two.

The smaller of the two mechs narrowed his optics. "Get out."

Megatronus thought for a moment that the mech was addressing him, but then he heard the guards behind him move, and looked to see them exit the room and close the doors behind themselves.

"C'mere," the smaller mech said.

Megatronus crossed the empty room until he was standing just in front of this other mech, who was most certainly the one in charge, despite his diminutive size.

"So. You're the roc slayer."

Megatronus nodded.

"Pathetic," the small mech scowled. "You're just a miner. Don't even have a paint job. It was probably a fluke of some sort, what do you think?" he glanced over his shoulder at the other mech, who shrugged, leaning casually against the wall.

He was tall and broad and impressive-looking. He was painted primarily green, though it was hard to tell the exact shade in the dim lighting. He caught Megatronus's gaze and smirked.

"How about you?" the smaller mech said, rounding on Megatronus again. "You think you actually managed to kill that thing due to skill, you pathetic little scrap heap?"

Megatronus chose his words carefully. "I don't know. I don't have anything to use as a reference, because I've never seen anyone fight a roc before."

"Oooooh," the smaller mech said. "Think you're clever, don't you?"

Megatronus shook his helm. "I don't know, maybe."

"Anything you do know?" the challenge in the mech's voice was too much encouragement.

"I know this whole world is glitched," Megatronus said.

The smaller mech snorted. "Well, I can't argue with that. Ok, I like you. But you still haven't told me if you can fight."

"Apparently I can," Megatronus said. "But my memories only go back about three quarters of a vorn, when I first showed up in the mines, so I don't know when I trained, if I ever did. I just know how to balance."

"Hmmm," the smaller mech said. "Well, let's find out. Ready, killer?"

The larger mech rolled his optics. "What am I, your attack dog?"

"Just get your aft off the wall."

The mech pushed away from the wall and beckoned Megatronus out toward the center of the cavern. He was larger than Megatronus, and far more impressive. Megatronus waited for him to make the first move. He was big. He'd be slow…

Suddenly, Megatronus felt his pedes swept out from under him. He landed on his back, hard, and the other mech planted a pede on his chassis right above his spark chamber.

Megatronus barely had time to be surprised before the other mech backed off with a laugh, and reached down to help Megatronus up.

Megatronus grabbed his hand and pulled him down, twisting to try to land on top of him. The mech's optics lit brighter and they grappled on the ground for a few moments, before Megatronus pulled away, and they both stood again.

"Ready now?" the larger mech asked.

Megatronus didn't answer, just took half a step back, shifting so he felt balanced. The larger mech attacked again, and Megatronus evaded him, falling into familiar footwork that he had never, in his memory, learned. The other mech was fast, but Megatronus was fast too, and they circled each other, feinting and dodging, until the larger mech managed to ram his barbed shoulder into Megatronus's faceplate, sending him toppling backward.

"Stop!" the smaller mech barked.

Megatronus got up and glanced over at him.

"You know what that was?" he asked.

Megatronus shook his helm.

"'bout you, Springer?"

The green mech shrugged. "What he was doing? It was pretty good, maybe some kind of… I don't know."

"Circuit-Su," the smaller mech said. "Pretty useless if you want to do any real fighting. But I guess it's not as bad as it could be. Still not sure how you killed the roc, but ok, maybe you aren't completely hopeless. We have to get you an upgrade, though. What's your designation, little miner?"

"Megatronus."

The mech snorted. "Wow." He crossed his arms. "Real scary."

Megatronus shrugged. "It's probably not my actual designation."

"Whatever," the mech said. "You aren't afraid of me, are you?"

"I wasn't particularly scared of the roc."

"Well, I'm a slagging lot more dangerous than the roc." Springer, backed away as the smaller mech approached.

Megatronus met his bright, violet optics.

Then the mech rushed him. He side-stepped, but the other mech moved with him, then jumped and slammed both pedes into Megatronus's knee, which snapped.

Then, before he had time to react, the smaller mech crashed into his shoulder. He toppled with a scream and his attacker landed on top of him and knelt, digging his clawed fingers into the plating just above Megatronus's spark chamber. Megatronus gritted his denta and refused to cry out again.

"I can kill you." The other mech leaned forward so his faceplate was all Megatronus could see, "Anytime you like. I can get away with it too. So in this room, I am your god, do you understand?"

Megatronus nodded.

"Good. I'm glad we're on the same file." He got up. "You're going to want to get a medic to look at that knee."

Megatronus groaned as he sat up. Getting to his pedes was a little more difficult, especially since his knee wanted to give out on him, and his shoulder felt cracked as well. But he made it after a few, painful astroseconds. "You got it, god," he said.

The smaller mech shot an incredulous grin at him. "See, you're still not scared."

"If I give you a reason to kill me, I'll be terrified. I promise."

"I like him too," Springer said.

"Yeah," the smaller mech nodded. "Megatronus, this is Springer. He's one of Kaon's best gladiators. Pray to Primus and the Allspark and even Unicron that you don't go against him in the ring. Though he likes you, so maybe he'll offer you mercy after he slams your sorry skidplate into the dirt a couple hundred times."

Megatronus nodded. "Should I pray to you too?"

"Nope. I'm not that kind of god. I'd probably put you two in the ring together just for the pit of it. Don't push your luck, mechling, you have to earn the right to be sarcastic in this place, and if I get annoyed, there goes your other knee. You can call me Casurus for now."

"All right," Megatronus said.

"Now, one of the things that really tells me whether you're gladiator material or not is how you fight while you're injured. Springer?"

Springer hesitated, then stepped forward. "Sorry, mech," he said.

"Don't worry," Megatronus said, getting into a ready stance that didn't put too much weight on his bad knee. "I'm ready."

Pain was a good teacher, Megatronus had decided. And Casurus's approval was a good motivation, because it meant he'd laugh when you talked back to him instead of break your limbs. It was hard, but Megatronus was learning, and he had never been afraid of pain. After his first meeting with Casurus, Megatronus needed to recover for a few orns, but then training had resumed. Megatronus was already learning, though he wasn't nearly as good as Springer.

He set that as his goal: eventually, he would be able to defeat the more experienced gladiator in a fight. And every orn he practiced he was getting a tiny bit closer to that goal.

The orn of his second fight arrived. Casurus came to talk to him beforehand.

"Ok, Megsie," he said, standing alone in the doorway. Unlike the other mecha in positions of power, he never brought guards with him. "You're fighting Snarl."

Megatronus stood, muttering. "And mecha make fun of my designation,"

Casururs raised an optic ridge.

"I've never heard of him."

"'Course you haven't, stupid fragger, you haven't talked to anymech but Springer and I since you killed the roc. You want my advice or not?"

"Yes, please,"

"He's a dinobot…"

"A what?"

Casurus glared at him and Megatronus refused to look away.

"I'm sorry. I honestly don't know what that is."

"Means he's got a beast mode instead of a regular alt mode. They tend to be big, slow, and stupid, and Snarl's no exception. He shouldn't be a problem for you, just keep out of his way until he collapses of exhaustion. He's pretty clumsy, but if he does get in a lucky hit, stay down, ok? He'll kill you if you get back up, and then I'll kill you afterward, you get it?"

"Ok," Megatronus said.

"You've got about a joor before they come and get you. Be ready."

Megatronus nodded, and Casurus walked away and the door closed behind him.

Once he was gone, Megatronus sat on the floor and turned his optics and audios off. He wasn't really sure what he was doing or why, but it felt right. It was good to block everything out and focus on his venting, letting his processor clear itself before training or a fight.

After about twenty breems, he brought his audial and visual functions back online and thought about what Casurus had told him.

He was fighting a larger opponent, who was slow and clumsy, but still dangerous. He probably wouldn't want to kill this other gladiator if he won. Springer had told him once that they didn't necessarily like it if you killed someone who could make them more credit in the future. It was all about credit to the supervisors.

To the gladiators though, it wasn't that different from the mines. The only difference was that skill increased your chance of survival.

By the time the guards came for him, he was more than ready. He was ready to see the sky again, and listen to the crowd and feel the energy of the fight coursing through him.

He walked out with the guards to the arena again. The sky was was completely different this time. Black, but speckled with an enormous number of tiny lights. Megatronus's processor had a word for them, but he could never have imagined the feeling that came from looking at them.

There were big blinding floodlights too, illuminating the arena, and making it hard to look up at the crowd.

And, standing on the opposite side of the ring, there was a mech large enough to pick up a mining drill and throw it.

Megatronus wondered whether he should be afraid. Sometimes Casurus remarked that he wasn't, as if there were something surprising or wrong about that. Megatronus walked calmly toward the center of the circular arena. He was halfway there when the other mech bellowed and charged at him, transforming into some sort of creature—something four-legged.

Megatronus dodged out of the way, and spun around, keeping his opponent in his vision. This went on for a few breems, and the audience seemed to get a little tired of it. Megatronus was getting bored too.

Next time he dodged Snarl's charge, he caught the other mech's shoulder and swung up onto his back. The roar of approval from the stands was far too encouraging.

Snarl came to a skidding stop and transformed, throwing Megatronus off of him with an enraged roar. Megatronus rolled and got up again.

The mech swung an enormous fist at him, but Megatronus stepped away so it passed less than a meter away from his faceplate. He felt the wind from it and a thrill went down his back struts.

Where had he felt that before?

"Great big show-off." Casurus said, scowling down at the fight.

Springer shrugged. Megatronus had talent, that much was certain, and no sense of self-preservation. It made him likable. If he didn't get killed early on, he'd make a great gladiator. "Are you going to get him an upgrade soon?" he asked. "He's kind of falling apart."

"I'd noticed," Casurus said. "Oh, there he goes."

Megatronus got too close, and Snarl's fist clipped him, sending him flying. The younger gladiator got back to his pedes quickly though. He didn't seem hurt, but Springer had already learned you couldn't always tell when Megatronus was hurt.

He leaned forward to watch, as Megatronus continued to taunt Snarl, pulling off some spectacularly close calls. Then Snarl hit him.

Full on.

"Yep," Casurus said. "What'd I tell you. Now he'd better stay down."

Springer wasn't sure if Megatronus was even capable of getting back up after a hit like that. But then he started trying to get back to his pedes again. Springer winced in sympathy as Megatronus staggered upright. Snarl transformed and charged.

Slag it. Megatronus wasn't going to need an upgrade after this. He was just going to need a broom and a transport to the scrapyard.

The audience gasped and cheered as Megatronus was slammed into the wall, then trampled. This time, he didn't get up again. Snarl transformed back to root mode and raised a fist into the air, to heavy cheering.

"Fragging idiot," Casurus growled, and got up. He left Springer sitting there.

There was a chance that Megatronus wasn't completely offline. Springer hoped that was the case, but he wouldn't be too disappointed if the younger gladiator was dead.

This sort of thing happened from time to time.

It was an occupational hazard.

"I told you not to get up again!"

Megatronus moaned, then screamed as pain flared in his arm.

"I don't slagging care if you die, but when I tell you to do something, you'd better slagging do it!"

Megatronus only had time to scream once more, before he slipped back into unconsciousness.

When he woke up, things were different.

He sat up, disoriented. He was in the same room he'd woken up in the past several times, only… the floor was farther away. He looked down at himself and realized he was the difference. He stood and his helm came closer to the ceiling than it had before. Much closer. His fingers were blunt claws, and his shoulders were spiked. He wished he had a mirror so he could see what he looked like. He still didn't have a paint job—he was factory gray right now—but other than that, he looked nothing like he had before.

Before too long, some guards came to get him. They took him to the training area. Springer was there, and Casurus, and another mech who Megatronus didn't know.

"Hey," Springer grinned. "That's cool. They did a good job, huh?"

Casurus scowled. "I guess. Had to make you impressive, you know, with a designation like Megatronus. Well, you'll need a paint job."

"I don't even know what I look like, really."

"Well, we'd better fix that," Springer said. "Casurus, can we take the orn off?"

"Go," Casurus said. "I don't want to deal with you fraggers this orn anyway."

Springer beckoned Megatronus over, and Megatronus crossed the room. "Hey, this is Rockslide," Springer said. "He's a friend of mine. Rockslide, this is Megatronus."

"Nice to meet you," the other mech said, and punched Megatronus in the shoulder. "You're the one who killed the Roc in his first fight, right?"

Megatronus shrugged. "Beginner's luck, I guess. My second fight didn't go so well."

Springer shook his helm. "Hey, everymech loses once in a while."

"Except for Springer," Rockslide said.

The green gladiator grinned. "Yeah, that's true. Come on."

Megatronus followed the other two out a different door, one he'd never been through before.

"Let's stop by my room, I've got a mirror," Springer said. They took him to a room that was slightly larger than Megatronus's, and had a good deal more decoration, including a floor-length mirror. Megatronus stood in front of the polished piece of metal and stared at himself.

He was tall and broad and intimidating—even taller than Springer. He wasn't sure if the extra height and mass were necessarily a good thing, though, because they'd slow him down. Well… Springer was fast. Megatronus could learn to be fast.

His optics were red, and peered out demonically from under his decorative-looking optic ridges. He looked like a statue—ornamental and crafted almost more for visual appeal than for functionality. He couldn't say that he disliked his new frame—it was certainly impressive. But he didn't want to forget who he'd been before. He didn't want to forget Rivet and Photodraft and his other friends who'd died in the mines.

"You know what?" he said. "I think I like this just the way it is. I don't want a paint job. It'll be a lot of trouble. It'll get ruined almost every fight anyway."

"Hmmm," Rockslide said. "You know, I might just agree with you there."

"You'd make a statement, at least," Springer said. "I mean, if you did get a paint job, I'd say something like red, or black. If you don't, I'd say at least get your armor polished. Silver's a good color."

Megatronus nodded.

"But hey," Rockslide said. "Come on, let's go to the energon hall. You've never been there, have you, Megatronus?"

Megatronus shook his helm.

"Well, let's go introduce you to everyone," Springer said. "Come on. You're a legend already. You killed the roc, then got pounded by Snarl and didn't die. That takes some serious 'beginner's luck,' mech."

They went back out into the hallway. Megatronus hit his shoulder on the doorway, and realized he was going to have to be a little more careful going through those now.

"They'll probably give you the codes for your door soon," Springer said. "As soon as they're sure you won't try to run for it. You can't, by the way. They keep really close watch on their gladiators. It's easier to escape as a miner than it is as a gladiator, trust me."

"Have you tried?" Megatronus asked.

"A couple of times," Springer said. "Everyone does. No one believes it at first. They all think they're going to be the one to make it out. I'm only warning you so I can say I told you so later. The only way out is to have serious connections on the outside. And I mean serious connections. But it's not so bad here, for those of us who know what we're doing. We make them more money, so they don't want us to die."

They went through a set of doors and came out into a crowded room. Tables, gladiators, guards, energon dispensers everywhere.

"Hey, everyone!" Springer called, and the majority of the attention in the room was suddenly directed at them. "This is Megatronus." He said. "Our newest class alpha gladiator."

Megatronus felt mild interest directed at him from the rest of the room. He smiled, but didn't say anything.

Springer shoved him forward, and he stumbled, not used to his weight or height. "Go talk to mecha."

"Sure," Megatronus said, and went over to an energon dispenser. Someone at a nearby table called him over, and invited him to sit with them. It was easy to tell the gladiators from the guards. The gladiators were painted brighter colors, and had more ornate, usually spiky frames. Some of the guards were fairly large too, but not nearly as impressive, and they all had black insignias painted on their shoulders.

They seemed to be getting along with the gladiators, though, which was very different from the mines.

After a few breems, Megatronus found that talking to these mecha was surprisingly easy—much easier than in the mines where no one wanted to talk to anyone else. By the time Springer dragged him away, he knew the designations of nearly every gladiator in the room, and several of the guards as well. He was a little over-energized, but Springer helped him find his room. He'd felt different for a while, like there had been something familiar about that room full of mecha, something comfortable. But he was tired, so he didn't think about it much before he slipped into recharge.