IV. Terms of Agreement
Megatron watched the femme walk over to the sparklings, her eyes wide with curiosity as she walked over to them.
They must have woken up some time after he had called the femme oblivious.
The sparklings were silent as she approached, their purple optics shining with wonder. They must be curious seeing this tiny femme in front of them.
It's their first time seeing a human, after all.
Well, a pretender in its human disguise. Megatron wondered as to why she hadn't put her human disguise away. Did it love pretending to be one?
That could be the case, or she was taught how to be in it's human disguise and never transform back into their cybertronian form in order to blend in with the organics.
It's reasonable.
Otherwise he didn't understand why she would even want to keep up the façade for so long.
"What are their names?" Persephone asked, her hand reaching out to them in a gesture that signified she was waiting for either of the sparklings to step forward.
"They have no designations as of the moment." Megatron replied. "I have yet to give them names."
She hums, nodding her helm at his words.
The sparkling in the middle was the first to approach her servo, slowly inching its helm. Megatron could see the sparkling's hesitation, how their optics showed their processors running.
He watched them interact and found it amusing how both of the femme and sparklings mirrored each other—oblivious to the dangers of each other.
"Have you never seen a sparkling before?" Megatron asked, watching her. Judging from her actions, it's obvious that she hasn't seen one.
It's a form of test to see if she is trustworthy or not.
To encounter a pretender is an opportunity for him. Not to mention the femme in question is a neutral and was raised here on this planet.
It would be easy to use her.
Did he wonder how she had gotten there? Of course. Megatron wonders how she got in without him immediately detecting her.
However, he won't turn away an opportunity that shows up in front of him.
Megatron will build his army again, even if it means he have to gather soldiers one by one on his own. He's patient. After all, rushing into battle without any proper planning never did anyone good.
"No," The femme chirped. "I've never seen one. In fact, I've never seen any cybertronian in person." Persephone glanced at him, dark optics looking at him as the sparklings huddled to her.
He hummed. "That makes sense."
Persephone makes this look on her face—her nose scrunching as she gave him a look as if he had offended her.
Megatron found it weird how there was no fear in her eyes when she spoke to him. No ounce of it at all. There was an instance of annoyance earlier, sure, but there was no indication that she was afraid of him.
There was no disgust too but one thing he's sure—there was only admiration.
Megatron was a warlord, he had lead armies, he knew how to read whoever he was facing and this femme was an open book just waiting to be read.
He wasn't sure how to react to that.
It was different from fear and disgust being wrapped in a façade of respect and obedience to his face. So, he was completely sure that this femme didn't know who he truly is.
And the icing in the cake was that she seemed to trust him, what with how comfortable she acts.
He watched as she held her head and her other servo stretched out, grunting as she closed her optics. "Huh... why did that didn't work?" She mumbled.
Megatron asked, "What didn't work?"
"I tried to materialise my food in front of me," Persephone answered as if she did such a thing on a daily basis. "I thought about burger steak with some gravy and a side of mash potatoes and fries. As well as some hot coco because my balls are freezing."
He raised an optic ridge at her... bizarre action.
"I have some energon to share with you." Megatron sighed, standing as he did so. "If you are to work for me, it would only be fair to share my rations with you."
She raised a brow as she walked a little near to the cackling fire.
"Who said I'll be working for you?" Persephone asked as if she had a choice in the matter.
He grins at her, marvelling at how little she is—at how he is and will always be superior to her through rank and size.
"I saved you when I could have left your systems to be destroyed once the ice enters your armor. I could have left you in the snow to wither and die away like you were supposed to." Megatron watched as her eyes widened at his words. "And seeing as how you act to me, I suppose I should've stripped you of your limbs and toyed with you, until your energon is dripping on the soil where you're standing."
And without missing a beat she replied with a tone of self-satisfaction, her voice cracking in the middle. "But'cha didn't."
Persephone gives him a shit-eating grin afterwards. How dare she?! Megatron powered his cannon and pointed it at her, emitting a high pitch as it gets ready to release an energon blast.
She didn't even flinch.
"I'm sorry," the femme giggled as she zipped the fur cloth that she wore. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. That came out of my mouth automatically."
"What in Primus would condition you to answer in such a stupid way?" Megatron spat. He retrieved his weapon, transform it back into a servo as he crossed both of his arms.
She continued to laugh, hugging herself.
"It was... it's because–" Persephone wheezed. She collapsed on the ground, gut shaking as she howled in laughter. She gasps, face flushing as she fights for air.
"Just spit it out," Megatron groused as he placed a servo on his hip.
"It's because of this funny video from Vine back during... twenty-sixteen?" Persephone managed as she wiped some sort of leakage from her optics. "I'm not sure, it's been years since I first saw that video. Of course, I watch it from time to time. It never gets old."
Megatron raised a brow at her words. What was the femme blabbering about? A quick look at the date plastered on his HUD, the one he used to count the days.
But it didn't make sense.
The date plastered on the screen was the second of January, the year two thousand and twelve.
"What do you mean by that?" He asked
Persephone snickered. "Oh you know, around six years ago when Vine became a thing–"
"No, I didn't mean that." Megatron said, cutting of her sentence swiftly. "What did you mean by twenty-sixteen?"
She has this look, as if she was confused by what he said. How her optic ridges furrowed, her optics looking at him with uncertainty. "Why do you talk about it like you've never heard of it?"
Megatron studied her. Looking for any sign that the femme was bluffing. But he was a warlord, he could read his enemies—anyone who dare stand before him.
And he's sure that she genuinely isn't joking.
Not one bit.
"Do you have any idea what day it is?" Megatron asked. She does this look, how her optics— the iris part—flicker from left to right in a swift motion as her optic lids blinked rapidly. It's like her faceplates were showing how fast her processor was running wild.
"I haven't been keeping track of what day it is since I... saw no reason why I should," Persephone answered with a shrug. "But what I do know is that it's twenty-twenty-two. Why? Is your calendar not working or do cybertronians not have some sort of watch-mechanism?"
"Femme."
"Yah?"
"Do you really think you're in two thousand and twenty-two?" Persephone nods at his question without a pause. "If that's the case, then you're from the future."
He kneels before her, closing the distance between them swiftly. It could explain why she suddenly appeared out of nowhere without him detecting her.
Megatron didn't think it would be possible but he literally saw the Fallen, a being once part of the thirteen Primes that was supposed to be dead, try to harvest Earth's sun. At this point, nothing was impossible.
He could use this advantage.
Not only was she a pretender, but she knew the events of the future. He had the upper hand no one else has, and Megatron saw her not only as a mere ally but a powerful one.
He had to use his cards right, even if it meant he had to wait for his harvest.
"Persephone," Megatron used her name, acknowledging her identity—her worth. "It's the second day of January and the year is two thousand and twelve."
"Huh?" Was all she said.
"But do not fret," He purred as he scooped her up in his servo, honeying his words with genuine promise. "I will see to it that no harm comes in your way while you are not in your proper timeline."
And the femme, still in his servos, stills as if his words startled her.
"It's the second day of January and the year is two thousand and twelve."
That can't be right. What did he mean by that?
"You're fucking with me, right?" Persephone laughed, shaking her head at him.
She watched as his face contorts in disgust as he moves his servo away, putting more distance between them. "I am not mating with you and I will never do such a thing." Megatron cringed. "Unless... this is how humans copulate."
Her feet meets the ground immediately. The rumbles of the soil beneath her made it hard for her to balance until it faded away. When she looked back at him, she saw Megatron away from her.
Waving his hand around as if shaking some imaginary germ from them.
What a dumbass. Persephone snickered at how stupid he looks.
Placing both hands in a cupping motion om either side of her lips, she yelled, "That's not how humans have sex!"
"Either way, that disgusts me." Megatron grumbled.
"Sorry to upset your stomach, your royal highness." Persephone curtsied and batted her lashes afterwards with a grin on her face.
The grimace on Megatron's face sent her laughing. She sighs once she had calmed down, remembering the date he had said to her.
Her fingers played with the fabric of her skirt, mustering the courage to ask. She replayed the question in her head.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
"What did you mean by its January two... twenty-twelve?" Persephone asked.
The lump on her throat remained no matter how many times she had tried to swallow it down. It's a dumb question. She literally just heard him say the date. Obviously it meant that was the current date of the day.
But she wanted to... confirm her suspicions.
Maybe she wasn't dead, after all... That somehow, in some way, she was transported to a place where any transfans' dream could take place.
If that's the case, then it meant she had travelled back in time. Miraculously, if that were to be the case.
And that earlier she almost died.
She had read about this kinds of things before. Time travelling and dimension transportation... courtesy of Transformers fanfics, of course.
And what did they all have in common?
The protagonist gets transported in this universe and lives their life to the fullest. Often being tracked down by N.E.ST either by a) Searching the characters and certain events in the internet or b) they run into some Decepticons.
Afterwards, they tell their side of the story and the events that will pan out or they try to not say a word in fear that the course of action might change.
And judging from her situation, it looks like she has the " b" situation.
He looks at her— she knows that look—as if she was dumb.
"The date of today is January second and the year is two thousand and twelve, in Earth time." Megatron repeated his words slowly, as if he was talking to a child who couldn't comprehend some things. "You've lived here on this dirt planet, so I assume you'd be more familiar with it than I am."
She blinked.
Once.
Twice.
What in the fuck? Persephone stared at him before she slowly looked at her surroundings. It was the first time she did so, since her sights immediately focused on the metal alien in front of her once she came to.
It looked to be some sort of abandoned town. The place was encircled by trees and hills, then mountains. Almost like they were closed off from the rest of the world.
Her gaze settled at the sparklings. The cute, huggable-looking cybertronian babies. There were none in the movie, at least from what she can tell.
And glancing at Megatron, she never expected him to... care for kids, at least. Obviously, they're not his since he doesn't have purple eyes.
But then again, he was supposed to be dead—inactive—after the events of the third movie. At least, until his consciousness was transferred to Galvatron.
Persephone looked at her hands, examining them from the front and its back. Flexing and curling her fingers.
They're real.
What did she do again before she woke up here?
My sister called. I wanted to bake. Went to the store to get some ingredients. On my way back, my bike swerved from the rain and shoved the purse in my pocket–
Persephone stopped.
She digs to the right side of her pocket where her fingers—cold and almost numb—brushed against the zipper of an item.
She immediately pulls it out and squealed.
It's her purse.
Persephone immediately opens it, eyes scanning the contents inside—some hundreds and fifty dollar hills, her credit cards, I.D, and her phone.
How she didn't remember the purse in her jacket's pocket, Persephone didn't know. It was probably due to the sheer coldness of the place or she was too focused on looking at Megatron.
She chucked it at to both.
Persephone placed her purse back in her pocket and fiddled with her device. The screen of her phone wasn't cracked— thank god it's not cracked—as she tapped the screen.
The sheer joy and serotonin that flooded Persephone's system was overflowing as she whooped and did a victory dance when it turned on.
Mon, 12 January
The date read. She clicked the calendar and sure enough twenty-twelve was plastered on the year.
Holy shit.
The battery was still full, but there weren't any bars. The notifications were a lot. Seventy missed calls and a hundred messages.
Persephone immediately tried to call her family and friends, but all of them went to voicemail. She tried several times.
But nothing.
She tried replying to their messages, but an exclamation mark appeared as her device informed her that her texts aren't able to go through.
"This... this is all real." Persephone breathed out as she looked back at Megatron who was looking at her as if she had lost her mind. "You're... you're real... aren't you?"
He asked, "What are you stuttering about, femme?"
She looked at the sparklings, at her phone, and then back to him. Persephone walked over to him, stopping where the snow started. "Could you come over here for a second, please?" She asked.
It didn't matter if she walked in the snow, but she wasn't risking getting her only pair of shoes wet and feet frozen. A shoe—even though it's a pair of sandals—is better than nothing when the ground is ice cold.
Megatron looked at her for a moment, before complying. "What is it this time?" He asked. "You have yet to answer my first question."
"I need a big favor from you," Persephone said. "I need to know that I haven't lost my mind and that I am still sane." She pulls the sleeve from her left arm, showing him the said limb. "I need you to cut me on my arm–"
"What–"
"–It doesn't matter whether it's big or short, so long as its deep enough to bleed." Persephone finished as she nudged her arm to him.
"Have you lost your mind?!" Megatron asked, reeling back in disbelief. "Why in Primus' name would I do that. And risk your energon leaking? I don't have enough supplies for that and not to mention how would I dispose your form if you accidentally offlined from energon loss?"
"And that's where you're wrong. I won't die," Persephone corrected him. "Look, if you're scared you'd have to dispose a flesh bag, it's fine. You can just give me your nails and I'll cut myself on them."
Megatron looks at her with his brows furrowed and his mouth slightly agape. Persephone snickers at the fact that it resembled that one meme of Tom looking really unsettled from Tom and Jerry.
She takes her phone and takes a picture of his face before saying, "Look just put your giant hand on the ground and I'll do the work," Persephone said as she points to the ground in front of her. "It would be quick, I promise."
It's funny how she's trying to console him as if he was the one about to have a gash on the underside of his arm or about to have his blood taken.
Megatron hesitated before kneeling down and placing his servo beside her where the grass is wet—where there's no snow. "Make it quick, femme." He grumbled. "And try not to get your energon on my servo."
"Sure thing," She chirps as she swiftly stood up on his palm.
His finger bent towards her.
Persephone walks up to the sharp digit as she took a deep breath and lined the underside of her arm in a horizontal position, just below her wrist, and–
"What's taking you so long?!" She turned to glare at him after he grumbled at her slow pace.
"Give a girl a moment, won't you?!" Persephone barked at him.
"Hurry up!" Megatron ordered her and she heard him growl at her. "The ice beneath my leg burns."
"I'm on it! Jeez!" She hollered back.
"I'm sure you wouldn't want to be stuck on this ice-water for too long if you were in my position." He sneers as she scoffs.
"Ice-water? It's called snow, dumbass," Persephone sassed as she flips her hair to her back. "I'd understand if you're human, but you're literally an alien made of metal with an advanced intelligence than mine. The cold shouldn't bother you at all, right?"
She turns her back at him as she takes a deep breath. And with a swift motion, Persephone cuts the underside of her arm. Afterwards, she immediately steps off and hears him move behind her.
Trickles of red start to appear on the gash as she stepped off of his hand, she stretched her injured limb in front of her where there's snow and let the blood drop to the snow.
Staining it crimson one after the other.
Oh my god.
Persephone gapes at the red droplets on the snow. "I'm... alive." She says to herself before checking her phone again.
It was ten in the morning.
She pulled the sleeves down to cover her wound, wincing at the sting she felt when the fabric touched the cut. Persephone looked at Megatron, only to see him looking off into the distance.
"Megatron?" She called him.
No response.
"Hey, you still here?" Persephone asked him as she went closer to him—as close as she can get without stepping into the snow.
He didn't answer her. And from the look on his face, the same look she'd seen on her siblings' every now and then, he wasn't there. At least not mentally.
"Megatron, are you okay?" Persephone asked, louder this time, shouting in hopes of him hearing her. And she tried several times in trying to get his attention: calling him " Bucket head", "Lord Megatron", " Almighty Megatron", "Megsy", and everything she could think of.
Alas, none of those things worked.
She looked at the snow that was about high enough to reach her knees then back at him, and decided to just 'Fuck it'.
Persephone gathered the skirt of her dress so it wouldn't slow her down. She took a deep breath before stepping in the snow and the ice burns. She yelped as she leaped—more like stumble—from one foot to the other, advancing towards the giant as fast as she could.
She wouldn't admit it out loud, but she regrets doing such a feat.
She grabs the foot— pedes as she remembered what its called—and it was cold. Surprise! Surprise!
"Shit!" Persephone cursed, as she pulled back, only for her to topple in the snow.
It won't be long before she gets frost bite or maybe she already has and the coldness of his body stung her hand. Persephone immediately got up back on her feet as she shook of the ice before it got in her clothes.
Taking in a deep breath, Persephone screamed, "MEGATRON!"
Red eyes snapped to her with a startled look and all she can do is raise her arms at him.
"HELP!" She begged.
Without a moment of hesitation, the warlord plucked her from the snow.
As she was placed in his palm, she kicked the snow that snuck its way underneath her feet desperately before tucking her legs into her dress, shivering as she did so. "Fire... please!" Persephone clutched her jacket as close as physically possible.
She had to grab one of his finger as she was whizzed to the front of the flames. It was a big fire, the kind that a human would normally call the fire department with how huge it is.
Naturally, being right in front of it warmed Persephone immediately.
It must be normal size for a cybertronian. Persephone glanced at the fire and back at him. "Thank you," She sighed as her head tilts to the side. "Could you move me away from the fire a little? It's getting too hot."
Megatron scoffs. "You're quite the complicated one, femme. "It's too cold this!" and "It's too hot that!"." He grumbled as he moved his servo, her arm doing a backing motion and only then did he stopped when she gave a thumbs up. "There's no reason to pretend to be a human, you know?"
"You literally just gave me the okay signal to be a gremlin." Persephone smiled at him as the comforting temperature eased her. "Also, are you... okay?"
"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" He raised a brow at her. Somehow he was talking to her. Persephone thought he'd be irritated when an inferior being—probably his words, not hers—is talking to him.
Her fingers tap his palm as she plucked the words from her brain and pieced them together carefully.
"You were gone for a bit." Persephone paused, making sure he was okay. "Like physically you're here, but your mind was... somewhere else."
He glared at her. Annoyance painting those crimson eyes of his and she wondered if she somehow—in some way—offended him.
Oh shit.
"You were gone for a bit." She paused, staring at him with large innocent-looking optics. "Like physically you're here, but your mind was... somewhere else."
Megatron's lips turned into a straight line at her words. He wasn't an open book. He knows he isn't easy to read. So for her to just imply that she knew what he's thinking—that he was remembering a memory he's been relieving for as long as he stayed in this cold retched place—had insulted him.
His optics darkened, "What did you mean by that?"
"I've been trying to get your attention for almost a minute," Persephone replied, tilting her helm a little. "And you were just... staring off into space and I was worried."
Worried?
Was she pitying him? If so, he didn't need any.
"It's none of your concern, femme." He sneered.
Persephone didn't reply. Opting to nod her helm at him.
He set her down and she silently complied before he went to feed the sparklings. Megatron could feel a burning sensation at the nape of his neck as he nursed the younglings. As he was feeding the last one, his optics snapped to the human.
The warlord caught sight of the human staring—as he expected.
A look of fondness was on her faceplates, before her cheeks had turned a shade of red; she turns around completely.
Weird. Megatron raised at her response.
He read it somewhere that most humans get flustered when they're caught staring. She must've been embarrassed she was caught.
After making sure the sparklings were warmed, fed and okay, Megatron walked over to her and sat down with his legs crossed.
"Let us continue our conversation about you being from the future," the warlord hums and she turns back to face him, cheeks still red. "I have seen what human calls 'cellphone'. And what you have is still primitive, but more advanced than from what I've seen so far."
"Oh, yeah. It's Note 20 Ultra," the human answered as she showed him her device. "It's Samsung, so the battery lasts longer. Wanted an Apple, but they slow their device when they release new phones."
"Why are humans using a fruit for a device and why would your kind slow it down when releasing new ones?" He asked.
She answered, "Apple is a brand. And also, they slow it down so people could buy new ones."
"Why would they do that?"
"Because of capitalism, baby."
"I am not your infant."
Persephone snorts, her shoulders shaking. "I'm sorry, I didn't expect that response," She giggled.
"Since you're from the future, tell me what would happen," Megatron grins as he leans in forward, waiting for her answer. "Do I finally get out of here and restore Cybertron?"
The mirth from her face falters, as her optics flickers to the side. "To be honest with you..." Persephone's lips pursed as she as her digits toyed with the fur—hair as they had called it—on helm. "No. No you didn't get Cybertron. You don't even get to win."
Megatron didn't know how to respond to that.
"You don't even get to win."
Was that his destiny after all? To be slaughtered and forgotten? He looked at her, scanning to see if she was lying. Any hint that she was bluffing.
However, all he saw was the inner corners of her optic ridges were turned upwards as her gaze failed to meet his.
It couldn't get worse, right?
"If anything, after the battle of Chicago, you're not even supposed to be here at all." Persephone finally turned to look at him and her voice was almost quiet as if she herself couldn't believe it. "You're supposed to be dead."
So, it could get worse.
She crossed her arms. "Optimus had beheaded you after you taunted him," She said as the slight cold breeze caused her to shiver. "I guess... finally after sparing you for eons—especially back on Cybertron—he just decided to kill you."
How did she know that? Megatron thought as he plucked her from the ground, a yelp escaping her as he did so.
It made sense if she was from the future, but she knew bits and pieces of the past so that idea in itself is slightly crossed out.
He gripped her in his servo, not enough to squeeze her but hard enough so she couldn't squirm free.
"And you know this how?" Megatron questioned
She laughed nervously. "You wouldn't believe me even if I told you," Persephone replied.
"Try me," He challenged.
A sigh leaves her and then she spoke, "Believe it or not, I came from a universe where you and the rest of the cybertronian race are not real—fiction. You guys were made for children entertainment, manufactured as toys and sold."
Children entertainment?
It was like being slapped on the face and being kicked around like trash. So many of his brothers and sisters died, a war for the sake of his people and to her— anyone from their world—was mere infant entertainment.
He wanted to puke at how disgusting that sentence sound.
"There are several shows about you guys like Transformers Animated, Transformers Prime, Bayverse, and whatnot; and there's comics too. Although, I've read snippets of IDW but I don't have time to read all of it," Persephone explained. "Judging from your appearance, I'm probably in the Bayverse. Bayverse is the live action adaptation of your story directed by a guy named Michael Bay—hence the term 'Bayverse'."
"So you sat there and watched as my comrades are slaughtered; as war broke out and killed my planet— my home?" The words are said before he could stop them.
"That's not–"
To fight a war, to lose those who are dear to him only to find out his suffering and the sufferings of many are a means of entertainment enraged him.
"We're stories to you. We're not real." Megatron sneered through greeted teeth. "Tell me, femme. Did you enjoy watching us fight, win, lose?"
"Let me explain–"
"DID YOU ENJOY WATCHING ME DIE OVER AND OVER AGAIN IN DIFFERENT WAYS?!" He snarled to her face, his fists shaking as he did so.
"NO!" She screamed. "FOR FUCK'S SAKE LET ME SPEAK!" The femme bellowed, lips pulled back in a snarl and her optics dark.
He waits for her words.
The next words that come from her mouth would make Megatron decide whether she lives or not.
Persephone took in a deep breathe, counting and then exhaling. "Okay, first of all, I understand your anger and it's valid. Second, I didn't enjoy watching you die," She answered. "Third, how was I supposed to know I would be able to meet you? Just the other day, I knew you guys were fiction! You loved literature, even tho you enjoy poetry than most, I assume you also read and enjoyed some works of fiction too, right?"
Megatron didn't want to admit it, but she was correct. He couldn't exactly fault her. It's not like she could interfere in those moments, but Megatron couldn't help but feel angry towards her.
"You being alive right now stunned me," Persephone's voice was soft. "But I want to help you."
He raised an optic ridge at her words. "Why?"
"You're the Megatron, leader of the Decepticons. Duh!" She scoffed, rolling her optics. "Besides, I doubt you'd let me live if I didn't contribute to anything. So might as well make myself useful; one less fleshy to worry about."
Whatever anger he had towards he melted away as he laughs at her flattering words. It was nice to know that someone recognised his actions. Primus must be on his side when he encountered the femme.
"Smart femme." Megatron snickered. "Then, you will aid me in bringing glory back to the Decepticon cause. Help me in rallying my troops. Until then, you will remain in my company no matter what."
Persephone hums, propping her head on her servos while she looked at him with those big eyes of hers that seemed so innocent; a contradiction to the knowledge she possessed.
"How long will that take?"
"That will remain undetermined. However, I suppose it shouldn't matter to you in time."
She blinks at him.
"You won't kill me after I help you, right?" The femme in his servo asked with an unreadable expression.
He chuckled. "You catch on quite fast with how I will dispose of you after are agreement." Megatron loosens his grip, opting to open his fist in order for the small femme to sit at the middle of his palm. "Now, what to do with you afterwards?" He hums as he looked down at her.
Megatron watches the gears turn in her processor—tilting her helm to the side, optics glancing at the side and blinking as it shift from one direction to another every now and then. "You said it's an agreement, so I should also put what I want on the table."
He grins. "Name your price."
"I'll help you in any way I can," Persephone softly says as she taps her digits on his palm. "In exchange, I would want a lot of money."
"And what do you wish to do with Earthly currency?" Megatron asked.
Most of the beings he had encountered wanted the same thing.
Money.
They want to be wealthy. Wanting to decorate themselves in luxury and to have everything they want. It's no surprise the small femme would also want that.
Although, he wanted to know her reason for wanting wealth.
She smiled. "I think... I think I've seen enough chaos in my life. So, I want to live in the woods, away from everyone with a cottage and a beautiful garden," Persephone explained and Megatron noticed the way her optics light up when she smiled. "I'm not sure if my credit card works, but if it doesn't then at least I'll have some back up cash to live out my cottagecore dream."
Simplicity.
Megatron didn't know what 'cottagecore' meant, but judging from her description, it meant living in a cottage. Something that's usually simplistic from what he saw on the internet.
"I suppose I can fix that, afterwards." Megatron hums and she clapped her hands as she whooped in joy.
"Great!" The femme exclaimed. She reached out her arm and sticking out her pinky. "Pinky promise?"
What in Primus' name is she talking about?
"What in the pits is a 'pinky promise', femme?" Megatron asked.
"Well, a pinky promise is when two people make a promise," She explained. "Then, whoever breaks that promise will have their pinky cut off." Persephone smiled at him innocently.
Perhaps it's because she had grown up surrounded by humans and it rubbed off on her. How can someone take such a promise lightly?
"Understood," Megatron said as he taps her small outstretched digit with his. "Then, from here on out you shall be an honored soldier, Persephone Villamora! You are now a Decepticon."
"I'm very honored!" She chirps, bowing her helm in gratefulness at the title he had given her.
He noticed the huge gash on her arm, starting somewhere below her wrist and going upwards her limb. He leans closer to inspect the wound.
"Don't worry about that." Persephone dismissed as she retracted her limb and pulled down the sleeve of her clothing. "It'll heal... eventually. As most human wounds do."
"Let me take a look at it," He ordered, the tone of his voice leaving no room for argument.
She looks at him hesitantly, sighing before she pulled back her sleeve and showed the huge cut on her arm.
It was still bleeding, Megatron could literally see little drops of crimson energon as some parts of her arm had dried streaks of red.
That wasn't the oy thing he noticed.
Megatron could see small horizontal scars on her wrists, they were faded but scars nonetheless. He glanced at her only to see her tense; optics watching his every move.
Using his digits, he gingerly held her tiny servo as he turned her arm slightly to get a better look. "Does it hurt?" Megatron murmured, noticing the other scars beside the vertical wound—the crimson line in between the horizontal marks.
"It stings. I'll probably need a bandage for it, but the jacket is all I have so it'll do." The femme replied, shrugging her shoulders. "I just hope I don't die from infection."
His gaze snaps towards her. "Cybertronians don't get viruses, immediately."
"Well, duh!" She rolled her optics. "In case you didn't notice the obvious. I'm a human, Megatron. I'm fragile as fuck, boi."
Human?
She's a human? But that didn't make any sense. Megatron sensed a cybertronian signal from her. It was faint at first but it grew stronger—normal—but its present when she had roused from her stasis. There is no doubt that she has a spark.
But if she was cybertronian, then the energon from her should be blue and not red—not blood. He didn't understand why she possesses a spark.
Does she not know she has a spark?
Megatron decided to keep this knowledge to himself. Choosing to observe what this femme was capable of. A human with a spark is strange, but it pales in comparison from where she hails from.
He looks up the nearest store within the area which happens to be a 'convenience store'. Megatron wasn't worried about the sparklings. No one will find them here and he could go back as swiftly as he just left.
"There is a convenience store a few miles from where we are," Megatron announced. "I could take you there so you may take what you need."
"Wait really?" Persephone perks up as she moved to stand on his servo. "If it's alright with you, could you locate the nearest supermarket? I'll need all the appliances I can get."
"It will be farther than usual." He grumbled.
"I'll take every necessity I need and then we'll be back here." She gets on her knees, clasping her servos together. "Please! Plus, I'll need tampons so I don't get blood everywhere."
"Blood?"
"Females bleed every month. I need tampons."
"That is very disgusting, won't you die?"
"Sad to disappoint you, Megatron, but no."
He chuckled, shaking his helm at her response. After solar cycles of not having anyone to talk to, Megatron didn't expect to find solace in speaking to a human. Much less a human from a different universe.
Perhaps, this was a miracle of some sorts for him. Using her would help him bring back his army, his strength.
Victory is once again clear and Megatron knew just how to get to it: by biding his time.
Finally, things were looking bright on his end.
End of Chapter IV
Author's note:
Reviews feed the muse or the muse will die
—Stwawbewwy
