Hi my children! MotherUniverse here again with another chapter of The Alchemist!

Sorry about that little placeholder chapter, but I am dividing this story into "acts" of sort. This first act will contain the details leading up to the civil war; aka, Megatron and Optimus Prime's backstory. Of course, it's a little different than the actual continuity, but that's why this story is an AU and not a cannon based plot line or anything.

Just a warning for this chapter, a character get's molested. I don't describe it in graphics, but you know it happened. In a short amount of time, our main character goes through the horrors of being dragged into the world of slavery, so obviously, there will be abuse in general, and it might be triggering to some readers. I'll try not to go too in-depth with the torture and shit that happens throughout this story, in order to keep it T-rated, but bad things happen. I'll try to handle sensitive topics the best I can, but I'm only 17 years old, so I will probably mess up at some point. But just tell me if I did.

That being said, please read and leave a review. And if anyone has good writing advice, I'll be happy to hear it.

And without further ado, on with the show!


Chapter 1


The biggest business on the island of Primus was the slavery business.

The slaves were dragged into three separate buildings, one for the woman, one for the men, and a third for children. Orion Pax was immediately dragged towards the children's building, while the nameless boy he had just made friends with was dragged off to the mens building. The air was filled with the screams and wails of mother's being separated from their children. Yells of both family being separated and slaver's trying to organize the masses blended together creating a cacophony of hell and agony. The crack of a whip would sound every so often, somehow sounding over the screams. Orion took it all in, tears involuntarily spilling through his eyes as he was overwhelmed by the sensation of fear, and the smells of dirt, sea salt, smoke, and the metallic smell of blood that already coated the freshly imported slaves from the whips. Women's backs where broken open, their blood spilling down their skin; punished for crying for the loss of their children. Yet still, they screamed out in agony, not because of the pain in their backs, but because they're children were being dragged away from them. Orion felt as if he was going to pass out.

"Orion!" Came a voice out of the crowd. It was easy to spot the nameless boy; his height made him practically tower over the rest of the people. "I'll see you again, ok?"

Despite being overwhelmed by the terror that was the slave-import docs, Orion found himself smiling at the nameless boy's words. He was barely able to choke a sound out of his throat, his vocal cords seemingly clogged by the nauseating sense of terror. But he still managed to shout out a confirmation, to let the nameless boy know that the two of them would, in fact, be reunited again. "Right!" He shouted.

The last thing Orion saw before being shoved into the building for slave-children was the nameless boy giving him a smile of reassurance, though, whether or not it made Orion feel any better was still debated to this day.

It was difficult to adjust his eyes to the dark light of the slave-house, contrasting to the bright light outside. Dozens of children, all of various sizes, races, ages, and genders, were forced to strip themselves (not like they were wearing much anyways), and forced into showers. The water was cold, and the room smelled like sweat. The slavers guiding the kids through the house roughly soaped the kids bodies and hair, and Orion felt particularly uncomfortable when the slaver begin to wash his body.

The man washing Orion started inching closer to a spot Orion didn't want touched. "Don't touch me there," He commanded, trying to make his voice sound athoritive.

The slaver laughed. "Your cute kid,"

Orion realized was being molested. He screamed out, begging for someone to help him, but it only resulted in the slaver violating him punching him hard in the stomach. Once the man got his fill, he finally let Orion go. The boy ran out of the showers, searching frantically for some element of safety; the arms of his parents or big brothers. Maybe even the nameless boy he had just met. Anything at all. But he had nothing, and so did the other slaves experiencing the same horrors of him.

Before Orion could recover, a slaver grabbed his arm, and hearted him and the rest of the children into the next room. Orion felt violated, and disgusted, and he hated it. The moment he just experience flashed through his mind over and over again, but before he could possibly recover from being washed by a stranger in places he never wanted anyone to touch, he was grabbed by yet again another stranger, and thrown into a burlap robe that could be considered clothing. Thankfully, that particular slaver barely touched him, though he couldn't say the same for some of the unlucky kids next to him.

He was then dragged into the next room, and forced into a line, where he would soon be branded. While most societies kept slaves of different races, and therefore was able to tell the difference between a slave and a freeman, Primus had slaves of all races, so, in order to tell if someone was a slave, the slaver's would brand the back of the slaves right hand with the ancient Primidian symbol for slavery.

The room was filled to the brim with the screams and wails of children as the hot iron burned and imprint into their skin. The moment they were done, their hand would be shoved into cold water, before the child would be shoved off into the next room. Orion's turn for branding came all-to-soon.

His hand burned with the sensation of hot iron melting into his skin. He felt as if his skin was turning to liquid, and that he was being burned alive. The moment the brand-iron was lifted from his skin, his hand was shoved into the freezing water, and the stinging sensation immediately told Orion that the water had salt.

The sudden sensations of pain threatened to take over, as Orion's vision became cloudy, and black crept into the corner of his eyes. He barely felt being pulled away from the branding station.

A week ago, his entire family was killed, and he was forced into an overcrowded and unheated slaver's ship. Now, in the matter of twenty minutes, he was forced through crowds, exposed to hellish visions, violated, branded, and thrown around like a property piece. He guessed that now he was.

Finally, Orion was allowed to sit down. Though, his period of rest was minimal, as an older slaver immediately shoved a piece of paper with one sentence in front of his face.

"Read," She demanded.

The sentence was in Greek, which was neither Orion's native language or the official language of Primus, but it was still a language he could understand.

"'I vow to serve, honor, and obey the great master who commands me; and I give my mind, body, and soul to him, forever and ever," Orion read, speaking in fluent Greek.

"He's the one," She said, to who, Orion wasn't sure. Nethertheless, she grabbed him by his wrist, and dragged him off to a separate room than the rest of the auction house. In that room sat an elderly man, with a long white beard, and piercing blue eyes. "This is Trion," The woman explained. "Alpha Trion. But you will call him Master," She then shoved him into the room, and walked out.

"So," Trion said, his voice holding a triumphant boom in it, making his words sound like commandments set in stone. "Your the boy who will help with my work,"

Orion didn't say anything, instead, he just stood uncomfortable.

"Alright, since I paid in advance, I assume I can leave," Trion said, standing up. "What's your name, boy?"

"Ah!" Orion squeaked out. "Orion Pax,"

"Orion, eh?" Trion hummed out. "That'll suit you. Now come,"

Orion followed Alpha Trion out of the slave-house, where he was loaded into a cart. There were a few other freshly bought slaves in the cart, all of them were adults, and a large number of them where crying. As Orion got into the cart, he was able to eye the auction stand from far off. Getting up onto the stand was a familiar face; the boy with no name. Orion couldn't tell who his new friend was sold to, but it didn't matter. No matter where they went, they were going to find each other again someday, and together, they would build themselves a life better than that of slavery.

The nameless boy, however, didn't see Orion from where he was. He was just focused on the tons of people shouting out numbers in order to buy him. There were quite a lot of people throwing in prices, as the nameless boy would be a desirable slave, considering his large size and strength. The bidders probably wanted him so they could get their work done fast.

The brand print on his hand was still fresh and hot. It wasn't the first time the nameless boy had been branded, but it was the first time he had been branded for no other reason than to be marked as a slave. The idea of branding slaves was logical, but it was cruel, and the nameless boy began to despise this society build on oppression. He hated Primus. He hated it's people, it's slave-drivers, it's buyers, and sellers. The moment he saw the children get manhandled when separated into their building the nameless boy knew that Orion stood little chance of walking out of that house without being molested. Nobody would dare to violate the nameless boy in such a way — they took one look at him and concluded that it would be a death sentence, — but little Orion Pax, who was selected for his inability to fight against his abusers, would be such an easy target, and it made the nameless boy angry just to think about it.

In all the nameless boy's seventeen years of life, he had never seen an auction so crowded with people. There where always large numbers, but here, not a speak of ground could be seen within the flood of people. The shorter crowd members where in threat of being trampled, and everyone else had to fight in order to be seen. Those who bought slaves had to practically climb their way out of the crowd in order to leave, and if one didn't have strong vocal cords, their price offers would never be heard. It was simply disgusting how many people on that island took part in the slave trade.

The gavel cracked like thunder upon it's podium, as the words "sold, to the Pit Owner!" where shouted above the crowd. The nameless boy was unsure what a "pit owner" was, but he had a feeling he wouldn't like it.

After much struggle, the nameless boy was greeted by a tall, — but not as tall as himself, — well built man, with dark eyes, and brown hair, as well as a grizzly goatee.

"You're a fine young man," He said, looking at the nameless boy as if he where a new type of meat to feed to the lions. "You should prove a glorious entertainment! How old are you,"

"Seventeen," The nameless boy gruffly spat out.

"Your voice holds a lovely boom. Will intimidate your opponents. Do you have a name?"

"No. I have no name,"

The man who bought him shook his head. "That won't do at all. If you want to be a legion, you need a name to be remembered by," he looked the boy up and down. "How about… Megatronus. After the Master of Battle. Your not the first slave I've given that name to, but hopefully you'll be the one to honor it,"

The nameless boy, or Megatronus, as he was now apparently named, wanted desperately to ask what this "pit master" meant by honoring the name, but all of his years as a slave had taught him better than to ask questions. He guessed he would find out soon enough.

And so the two boys, Orion Pax, and Megatronus; One a small and skinny boy with a bright mind and a kind heart, the other a large boy who has seen the horrors of humanity, yet somehow still kept hope that things could be better; would go their separate ways. But, as they promised each other, they would meet once again, and when they did, their meeting would change the threads of time. And the society built on oppression would soon turn into a dystopia plagued by war.


Shorter chapter than I intended, but whatever.

I don't really have much to say that I didn't say before, but again, I apologies for making you readers uncomfortable with anything. I'm doing my best to write as well as I can, and it may or may not be good, but whatever.

Any recommendations for this story I'll be happy to hear. I'll be happy to talk character studies, plot threads, ideas, anything. Whatever happens. Please review, and tell me how I'm doing so far. I'm just dong my best to write well. See you next Monday!

~MotherUniverse signing out!