Jack awoke to darkness. Moaning, he blinked his eyes several times for them to adjust, only for the blackness to remain. Soreness radiated across his body, and the boy shifted to get rid of the stiffness. Only for his limbs to remain immobile. What?

It was then Jack became aware of a high-pitched ring in his ear, and suffocating heat around him. He shifted again, only for his hand to collide with something smooth and solid. Metal. His mind swam with disorientation. Where… where was he?

Where were the Autobots? They were— Jack gasped as he remembered. The Autobots… the Autobots didn't fight for him. Which meant—

Horror welled up in the teenager's chest as he realized where he was. He moved his arms to his chest, pressing his fists against the metal cocoon around him. There was no reaction, his prison pressing against him. Jack's breath hitched when claustrophobia seized him in a vice grip. He began pounding against the walls around him, hard.

"Let me go! Let me go!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. "Let me out! Megatron!"

The metal groaned, complaining. Suddenly there was the distinct sound of gears and plating shifting and the walls moved. Frigid air greeted Jack like a slap to the face. His stomach flew up to his throat as Megatron landed with a clap of impact, catching the boy in his claws before he faceplanted.

Immediately Jack recognized the flight deck of the Nemesis, covered in scratches from repeated abuse of flyers launching and landing. The wind whipped at his clothes, roaring in his ears, as black clouds raced by. The full moon was filling the night sky, providing the only light. The ship had to be in the upper troposphere, judging by the cold air alone.

Jack was already shivering, madly. His teeth were chattering. He tried to fill his lungs, which were screaming for air, only for his throat to burn. His breaths came shallow and short. His heart was racing, slamming against his ribcage and pounding against his ears. A part of Jack recognized he was hyperventilating.

Calm down, Jack. Calm down.

He tried to practice the breathing exercises his mother taught him, but a burst of shivers interrupted each time. He felt the blood rushing to his head and the ship tilted.

Jack must have passed out, because he opened his eyes to alien fluorescent lights. There was a rumble above him, and the boy felt his body being tilted. Suddenly the silver cage retracted and he was deposited on a soft, warm material. It sunk underneath his weight only to restore itself once he shifted, like some sort of memory foam.

Jack lifted himself to all fours and tried to scan his dim surroundings. He was on some kind of surface, the alien material making up a gigantic slab, which had to be twice of Megatron's width. …A berth? The boy tried to find look at the room beyond, but it was hard to distinguish anything through the gloominess. It was mostly barren anyway, from what he could tell.

Jack trembled. He was really on the Nemesis. The Autobots… they tried to save him, but they couldn't. The teen shut his eyes, the image of a furious Arcee flashing across his vision. She had cut off all ties with him for over a week, and she had tried to save him. Because she was his guardian. But it wasn't enough. It was never enough.

The boy gritted his teeth, fighting back a whine, and fell back to his side. Above him, he heard the sound of transformation, but he ignored it as he curled into a pathetic ball. Shaking, he hid his face in his arms in an illusion of privacy. The human didn't even hear the sound of muffled pedes nearing him.

Jack flinched, violently, as servos wrapped around his wrists and pulled his arms away. He was turned to lay on his back, looking up at crimson optics. Bile rose up to the boy's throat. He never wanted to see that gaze again. He shut his eyes tight and jerked his head way, only for a servo to cup his cheek and turned his face back. A claw stroked away a tear he did not realize had fallen.

"You are quiet," Megatron observed in a low tone.

"There's nothing to say," Jack replied in the same manner.

"You're upset."

"That obvious?"

With that, the teenager tried to turn away, but Megatron held him still. The warlord shifted to lay beside him, and Jack instinctively tried to slid away from the heat of the Decepticon's frame. He was denied when one arm slipped underneath his head. The boy automatically tried to flinch away, but the other servo gripped his wrist, keeping him from ever escaping.

"Now you know," Megatron rumbled, "what it's like to be betrayed by Optimus Prime."

"…He was trying to save me," Jack argued weakly.

"Was he?"

"You threatened to kill me."

The Decepticon flashed his fangs. "I had every intention of destroying you. But apparently Prime believes leaving you in my care is more merciful."

Jack didn't heartily agree. Especially he couldn't see how Megatron could be merciful if he openly wanted to destroy the human race.

"Why don't you just kill me," the teenager murmured, closing his eyes, waiting for it to come.

"No," Megatron refused. "You're much more useful to me alive. And after all, I do not reward my enemies with what they desire."

Jack trembled at the former statement. "How?" When the sterling tyrant cocked an optic ridge, he added, "I'm… human."

Megatron chuckled when he realized the boy's meaning. "Yes, you were wasted being born as such a weak creature. But the Autobots undermine you." When Jack squinted at him, the warlord elaborated, "They are quick to scold you, aren't they? Hide you from our sights?"

"To protect us—"

Lips curled back in a snarl. "And where were the Autobots, Jack, as you suffered in solitude? You did not need them to take care of your family and bear the pain of losing it." Jack felt that cruel statement crawl under his skin, and he knew the warlord wanted it to. "You held your own against my kind, you survived alone in the mines, and you made a mockery of your own military. Yet they see you as helpless."

It was hard to feel anything but, considering his current predicament. Jack tried to ignored silver-tongued demon. Megatron was a Decepticon—he had millions of years to learn how to twist even the strongest of minds to do his bidding.

"They're my friends," the boy tried instead.

"Even though they betrayed you? Would you say the same about the little one?"

Jack couldn't help that single tremor. He didn't want to be angry at Raf. The younger boy always wanted the best for everyone. He believed in sticking up for the small guy and finding a solution to a problem without conflict. Raf thought he was saving Jack, by warning the Autobots of Megatron's manipulation. The army brat didn't want to think his friend had betrayed him, but Raf promised.

"…Yes," Jack forced out, but it wasn't as strong as he wanted. Megatron let out a quiet laugh.

"You are so naïve, dear child," the dictator chided. He finally released Jack's arm, moving to stroke his claws across the human's soft cheek. The boy shivered but didn't have the energy to slap it away. "Your heart may be right place, just like him, but I have seen the darkness inside your soul." Red optics flared. "Your anger, your ambition, your hate. You are more Decepticon than the Autobots care to admit, and that is why Optimus belittles you."

"I'm nothing like you."

"We share more in common than you do with Prime."

Jack didn't know how to argue against that. He was certainly nothing like the legendary leader, but he definitely didn't want anything to do with Megatron, either. Then again, he had betrayed everyone he knew and loved. He doomed his entire planet by setting Megatron free. He had handed the monster the death warrants of human beings. And…

"…Are you going to attack the Autobot base?" the teenager dared to ask.

"What do you think?"

Jack had an idea, but he didn't want to say it out loud. He definitely didn't want to hear Megatron confirm it.

"I did what you asked," the boy argued instead.

"You allowed the Autobots to be alerted to my presence," Megatron retorted. Jack's stomach twisted and a claw stroked his face, almost as if in comfort. "Do not fret, I will not force you to watch."

The human did not see that assuring. The Autobots would be destroyed, and it would be all his fault. He couldn't bear the idea of witnessing it. But what if the Autobots prevailed? What if they escaped? How would Jack know? Was it better knowing, or not knowing?

"..And Sector Seven?" he continued. He winced when Megatron let out a deep, angry growl, reminded of his tormentors.

"They will receive the punishment that they deserve."

It was in a low, dangerous purr, and Jack realized it was a promise. That ensured pain and destruction. The boy couldn't help but fear and pity for those poor souls that would suffer the wrath of Megatron. At the same time, and to his horror, the human couldn't blame the warlord's bitterness. He was imprisoned, experimented on… he was tortured.

"If you had the chance to terminate the ones that murdered your father, would you take it?"

But not once did the Autobots mention the government organization. Not Optimus, not Arcee…

"Why did no one tell me?" Jack thought, not realizing he had murmured it aloud. He flinched when Megatron replied in his gravelly tone.

"When the humans agreed to cooperate with the Autobots, Optimus saw all grievances forgiven, and so forgotten," the Decepticon explained. "Even though they captured his own scout."

Sector Seven took Bumblebee? It was amazing, then, that they didn't suffer the full wrath of not Megatron, but a furious Prime. Then again, Optimus was a Guardian Knight of Primus. He protected the weak. He was not vengeful. Unlike Megatron…

The teenager closed his eyes, trying to block out his surroundings and Megatron's dominating presence. He quickly realized it was impossible, especially when claws trailed down his neck, the tips dangerously close to his carotid artery.

"You said I reminded you of Orion Pax," Jack recalled, opening his eyes and daring to meet that crimson gaze. "Who's that?"

In the entire year the army brat had spent with the Cybertronians, he had never seen one dumbstruck. He certainly never expected to be Megatron, of all beings, to be rendered so utterly speechless. The silver warlord blinked in surprise, optic ridges raised high and optics so bright that the human couldn't look directly at them. It took several long moments for the Decepticon leader to break out of the spell. Jack jumped when suddenly the dictator burst out in a deep, bellowing laugh.

"Optimus really doesn't tell you anything, does he?" Megatron commented, still chuckling from his hysterical outburst.

"Um…"

It was Jack's turn to be speechless. Megatron acted like he had said a bad joke, and not a legitimate question. The tyrant smiled, flashing denta.

"I suppose a history lesson is in order, hmm?"

Before the boy could even think of a reply, the Decepticon returned to his titanic size. He scooped up his prisoner in a single servo and climbed off the berth, lumbering out of the room. Jack balanced on all fours on Megatron's palm, even clinging to a talon for support. He was still braced to jump if need be. Even if the floor was three stories below him.

Drones ignored the human's existence as they bowed in the presence of their lord, not daring to stand taller or even meet his gaze. Only one did not grovel at the sight of Megatron. Jack hid behind the claws that surrounded him as Soundwave neared his master, as silent and impassive as ever. That faceless visor tilted up, and even though the surveillance chief had no optics, Jack could feel something watching him.

Megatron said something in Cybertronian to his third-in-command. As always, Soundwave made no reply, merely nodded obediently when the warlord finished giving his orders. Like nothing ever happened, the two Decepticons went their separate ways in opposite directions. Jack did not dare ask what the topic of the one-sided conversation was about.

Instead, broad doors opened, and the human's heart jumped in his throat. He recognized the dark room as the laboratory. Not here. Anywhere but here. Jack shut his eyes tight, trying to force out the memories.

"This will go smoother if you do not resist."

Before the captive could say anything, the Decepticon jammed the end of the line into the human's spine.

"Running isn't going to help you now."

Something stroked Jack's back.

"No harm will come to you, my dear," Megatron assured in that soft, low purr. Jack didn't believe him.

A flash of red stepped into the teenager's vision. Knock Out gave a wicked grin when he noticed the human.

"So nice of you to visit," the medic taunted.

Jack was tempted to tell the Decepticon where to shove it. But realizing he was in no position to give insults or threats, he remained silent, merely glaring at the Aston Martin.

"Attend to the fleshling," Megatron ordered in English, holding out his prisoner.

Jack immediately recoiled from Knock Out's outstretched claws. Not again, not again!

"No point in fussing, now," the medic chided and plucked the human up.

The teenager wheezed as he was basically dropped onto the slab, just like before. He was trembling again. The last time Knock Out monitored him, he had nearly died, between the medic's ignorance and the stress on his body. He was frozen when Decepticon twisted his body around. He sucked air through his teeth as sharp claws poked at his tender back. The raw tissue Megatron had ripped open stung in the cold air. Knock Out hummed in thought.

"Can you fix it?" the Decepticon leader demanded.

"Well, if I have the proper materials…"

"M-medicine!" Jack blurted out. Both Decepticons looked down at him. "Antibiotics!"

The extra-terrestrials merely looked confused, and Jack realized the Cybertronians had no equivalent to the words. His brained racked with the medical jargon Ratchet would use when treating the Autobots after a fierce battle.

"Blockers, sedatives, nanites," he recalled the Autobot medic described them to aid in repair. A poor analogy, but it would have to do. He added quickly, "But for humans."

Megatron looked up in thought, rumbling. He shifted his gaze back to Knock Out, switching back to his native tongue. The medic's optics went wide and he sputtered. He replied in protest. The warlord growled, and it ended the conversation.

Jack's skin prickled. He had no idea if Megatron agreed to his request or not. He could have ordered Knock Out to resolute it, or he had ordered the medic to do completely different task. He was also confused. The sterling titan had promised a "history lesson," whatever that meant. He didn't see how trying to explain human anatomy to a Cybertronian medic covered that.

Staring at the floor in an attempt to ignore his captors, he did not see Knock Out near him. Wire ejected. Jack screamed as something sharp pierced his neck and electricity coursed through his body.

NO! Not again! Not again!

His senses were whited out, and he fought to keep his thoughts from drifting away. He already told them everything! Why? Why were they forcing him into the patch?

He felt that dark, foreboding presence pressing against him.

You have been through this before. Do not fear, little one. I will be your guide.

Jack screamed as corridors of Megatron's sick mind enveloped him. The dark walls that surrounded him disappeared. Replaced by the walls of Kaon.


He was of no state. No home. No name.

Instead there were only the bowels of Kaon. Dark and desolate. He would not see the sun of the surface for vorns. Some areas were filled with acidic air. Some were filled with toxic rivers. It was inhabitable, yet it was miners that lived here.

The bowels were rich in energon and other rare materials. It was his duty, along with hundreds of other miners, to retrieve it for those that dwelled above. Sometimes they found plentiful. Sometimes they found scraps. It did not matter, not until a miner filled his quota.

A shift would not end until the required energon was delivered. It could take joors, or orns. In that time, miners were to work, and only work. No rest, no refuel. Many fell from mere exhaustion, if the rocks or the poison did not take them first. But he did not fall.

He did not rest, until he finished what he was told to do. Sometimes finding energon was an impossible task, especially if the tunnels shifted from unfortunate collapses. His unique ability to shift was useful.

It took time to master it. At first, he could do it only when he transformed, like most. But he shifted himself smaller and smaller each time. He began to teach himself to accomplish it without transforming. Shifting was not unlike it. Sometimes he made himself bigger than his true size, but it was the small sizes that allowed him to navigate the tight tunnels and to slip through cracks.

It infuriated the other miners. More than once he was attacked, merely because he completed his quota early. Most of the time his prize would be stolen, and his struggles began anew. It was for this reason he was careful with his unique ability. Once he made himself too small, and one of the larger miners tried to squash him. He reveled the miner's expression when he resumed his true height. It was his first kill.

Shifts were few and far between, and in that time, there was nothing to do. Except to fight.

The Pits of Kaon offered rewards. Shelter, energon, the sun. Many of the gladiators did not have names, like him. Many were miners, forgers, untouchables. No gladiator was privileged. Those of the higher classes belonged to another part of the Pits—the spectators.

He learned quickly that there was no mercy in the Pits. The crowds disliked mercy. They did not favor a fighter—they merely enjoyed it whenever a hit was delivered. He began to tolerate the jeering of the crowd. He began to revel it. Every slash, every blast, every death, sent a shudder through his frame. Each victory sent a hot, electric surge through his systems.

He did not fall. It infuriated the gladiators. He realized he would not be their prey. They would be the ones to fall. They would fear him.

He found a name. A name that invoked terror.

He was Megatronus.

To speak the Fallen's name was forbidden. Blasphemy. An uncertain hush fell over the crowd whenever it was heard. His opponents froze, shivered, keened.

He won. Again and again and again and again. His opponents whined. The crowd cheered. They came to favor a gladiator, one whose name they chanted with fervor.

"MEGATRONUS! MEGATRONUS! MEGATRONUS!"

A Champion of the Pits of Kaon.

Megatronus felt it coursing through him.

Power.

Jack did not understand.

It took time to escape the walls of the Pits. To escape the prison that was Kaon.

It was not done without aid. There were those that preferred him in the halls of Iacon than the bowels of Kaon. And for that, Megatronus was grateful.

In Iacon, he wanted for nothing. There was no darkness, no poison, no death. There was life everywhere. Energon poured from fountains. He did not understand.

Why was Kaon left to suffer, but Iacon lived in luxury? What made the miners and gladiators so different than the scholars and councilors? Megatronus saw no difference in the corruption.

He was not alone to ask these questions.

A contact of a dear ally. A mech that assisted in his arrival. A clerk, from Iacon's great Hall of Records.

Orion Pax.

There was a great deal in common between them: idealism, ambition, righteousness, rebelliousness. Orion was no fighter, which disappointed Megatronus. However, he was skilled in mind, and the freed gladiator respected that. Orion taught him the ways of knowledge. Megatronus taught him the ways of battle. In their spare time, they conspired.

A change needed to come to Cybertron. One that promised no mech was lower than another, nor punished for the actions of their free will. Kaon and Iacon needed to stand side-by-side, not one stepping on the other.

Megatronus's allies agreed. Orion Pax's allies agreed. So did many. Both in Iacon and Kaon. Along with other, distant states. Vos, Tarn, and many more. Even those of the colonies agreed.

In time, not even the High Council could ignore their argument.

The surge filled Megatronus's entire being as he stepped into the High Chambers. To stand where Primes had stood! Undefeatable warriors, legendary guardians, grand rulers. To be a Prime was to wield power itself.

Power to change Cybertron to what it should be.

Power, that the High Council was too selfish to give.

They saw Megatronus as a gladiator, a miner, an insect. But they saw Orion Pax, the skilled student of Sentinel Prime and the humble servant of Alpha Trion. And listened to him instead. Power would remain to Iacon, and only to Iacon.

Orion Pax did not refuse. Megatronus did.

"See reason," the Iaconian begged.

"I have," the Kaonian replied. "You are no Prime. You are a tool. I will not grovel."

Especially not for what he rightfully deserved. He suffered to become the best. Orion was merely privileged with it.

Megatronus was betrayed. By the one he trusted most.

Calm blue optics turned a malicious red.

It was too much!

Warfare consumed the planet. There was a choice: fight for the High Council, or fight for Megatronus.

Entire states were torn apart. Classes crumbled. Towers fell. Brother fought brother.

The High Council, the cowards they were, went into hiding when the fighting broke out. They used their Autobots as their mindless minions. They did not hesitate to demonize the Champion that called himself after the Fallen, the first deceiver.

Decepticons, they were called. Traitors. Heretics.

The accusation made Megatronus laugh. His army was created from deception of the High Council. But if they were accused of the same crime of the Fallen, then so be it. They would wear it as a badge of honor. If speaking the truth was deception, then they were gladly guilty.

Megatronus rather be honest in his intentions, than be a liar like Zeta Prime. He was a False Prime.

He was no guardian, and he certainly was no leader. He did not care for his people. He did not care for his home. He cared only for power, and the utter destruction of his enemy.

Zeta Prime would carelessly send his forces to eradicate a Decepticon stronghold. It was a pity, how many lives were wasted. When Megatronus counterattacked in a quiet, less costly attack, the Prime accused him of being cowardly. At least the Decepticons had more troops.

Zeta took no captives in his ruthless assaults. He would take the heads, the sparks, and sometimes entire husks, and post them on display in Decepticon and Autobot strongholds alike. If he did take prisoners, many of them suffered tortures worst than termination. The Autobot leader did not even trust his own forces, sending spies among them to root out possible Decepticons. Many were falsely accused.

They were grateful when Megatronus rescued them. They did not hesitate to join his ranks. They gave him information. Such as where to find the False Prime.

Zeta Prime was as arrogant and sadistic as Megatronus expected. He was as certainly as powerful as a Prime, but he did not hone his skills in the Pits of Kaon. Never again the Decepticon leader would feel the same rush of power as when he terminated the tyrannous Prime.

He was no longer a Champion of Kaon.

He was Megatron, Lord of the Decepticons!

The Autobots scattered. More joined his ranks. Victory was promised to him. At long last, he would carry the Matrix of Leadership. He would be greater than a Prime.

Then the Autobots rallied. They fought against him, calling for peace and freedom and other ridiculous things. They had found a new leader.

Orion Pax.

The clerk-turned-military leader found the Matrix of Leadership. He stole it.

Megatron found his one true enemy, one that betrayed him and now stood between him and what he rightfully deserved.

Optimus Prime.

Do you see now?

It was Optimus that ordered the Great Exodus. Thousands and thousands of Autobot vessels fled Cybertron. It infuriated Megatron.

No! Cybertron was their home! They would stay and fight! He would take what was his!

He destroyed many of the retreating forces, but it was not enough. Many of them disappeared into distant systems. With no one left to fight, the Decepticons began to disperse. Some pursued their enemy. Some deserted. Some remained under Megatron's command. But there was no command to give.

Cybertron was a barren wasteland. What he fought so hard to free, to change, to take, was gone. Destroyed by the Autobots and their prideful stubbornness. No! This would not be the end! Cybertron would be his!

Optimus Prime was to blame for the dead world.

The coward stole the AllSpark, the core of Primus himself, and sent it into space. The life source of all Cybertronians. Optimus had condemned their entire race to extinction, just to keep power to himself.

Megatron would not allow it. He left the remnants of his forces on the dying planet, and he assembled a task force. A scouting team. A crew.

They embarked on the Harbinger. They would scour the galaxy, searching for the AllSpark wherever it may lie. They would revive Cybertron, and save their home.

It was Megatron's decision to refuel on an old Decepticon outpost, used mostly to store energon from Autobot forces. He did not expect to be betrayed yet again. The Harbinger malfunctioned, and it crashed in the northern axis of the planet.

Cold. It covered his plating, it embedded in his inner circuitry, it invaded his systems. To save himself from being deactivated, Megatron's body was forced into stasis lock. The ice that trapped him because his prison. For a long time, it was cold and silent.

He did not know how much time had passed when finally, finally, a sound broke through the silence. His systems detected movement in the ice above, the prison groaning and cracking in protest. There were tiny voices, chattering in a strange, crude language. Then a heat source appeared beside Megatron.

Protocols came to life. His navigation system was activated. Crimson optics onlined.

Captain Archibald Witwicky screamed.

It was then his prison was removed, chipped away little by little until his frozen body was once again exposed to the outside world. But it was still too cold. His body did not free from stasis lock. Megatron could not resist as they dragged him onto one of their primitive water-bound vessels.

Once it grew just warm enough. Once an insect came too close. The fleshlings shrieked in fright at his crimson optics and his stained claws. The cold returned, and it did not retreat this time.

He felt it. Every time they impeded their strange machines. Every time they shocked him, as if just to get a reaction. Every time they tore away a piece of mesh. The fleshlings would not stop chattering. They would not stop meddling with their inferior devices. Their system didn't even have firewalls. It was easy enough for Megatron to invade them, and download all of their knowledge.

They called this planet Earth. They called themselves humans. The Decepticon forces that he once left on this planet were gone, disappeared from the native species' history. They called him many things.

A robot, a machine.

For the first time in vorns, Megatron felt warmth.

They called him a tool.

His ice prison began to crack and steam, melting.

They called him an it.

Shouts rung out. Alarms blared.

They called him NBE-1.

He was none of those things. He was not an experiment. He was a Kaonian, a gladiator, a champion. He was Lord of the Decepticons.

Crimson optics flared.

"I AM MEGATRON!"


The connection was broken. Jack snapped his eyes open. His body was shaking. His head pounded as agony coursed through his body in ways. His heart thundered against his ribcage, blood roaring in his ears. Nausea captured him in a vice grip and he heaved. He heard Knock Out's voice, shrill and panicked, but it was muted, like the boy's surroundings were made of water.

The human blinked rapidly, trying to get rid of the images that kept flashing across his eyes. Cities, destruction, death, ice, prison. He couldn't process it all. It was too much! Jack gripped his head and whined.

"He will be fine," Megatron rumbled.

Suddenly something cold and hard wrapped around Jack. He flinched, trying to get away, but it held firm. No! He would not be imprisoned again!

"Calm down, Jack," Megatron whispered in his ear. "All will be well." Jack keened and the strong arms held him tighter. "Knock Out, did you retrieve what I require?"

"Y-yes, my liege," the medic replied, still uncertain.

Jack couldn't breathe. He panted heavily, trying to fill his lungs, but no air came. Suddenly something cold pressed against his lips. He tried to flinch away, only for something to press against the back of his head, tangling in his black hair.

"Drink, my pet," Megatron ordered, in a sickly soft tone.

Liquid forced its way into his mouth. Jack gagged at the toxic flavor. He tried to spit it out, only for his body to instinctively swallow. He groaned when his body shuddered.

"Shhh…" his captor hushed.

Jack felt that powerful presence pressing against him. He felt everything Megatron had ever felt in his entire life. Pain, anger, ambition, sorrow, humiliation, hatred. Burning, consuming hatred.

Now Jack understood. What it was like to be betrayed.