A/N: Hello again. I present you with chapter two. Sorry for taking so long to update!

So I have included the locations of where the events take place yet again, though I only did so to separate Megatron's memories from reality. I did not identify every location in the story, only those at the beginning of a memory or reality. If you would like me to include them all, then I will do that.

Note: As I am not very familiar with all the Transformers characters, I do not know if any of them bear the same designation as my characters. Silverstreak is a name I came up with for youngling Megatron (before I searched it up), though I know it is what Bluestreak is sometimes referred to as. However, I would like to keep it because I think it really fits. That and I can't come up with anything else. Shadowflare is my OC.

Also, I do not have beta reader, so... if anyone is willing to beta read for me that would be great. Thank you!

Lastly, thanks to an anonymous reviewer! Your review made my day. :)

Disclaimer: Besides the plot, Shadowflare and Firecrown, I do not own anything in this story.

To clarify things, here is a legend for the italicized/non-italicized parts of the story

Location

~bond talk between Orion and Silverstreak~

Private messages

"Normal conversation."

Another Note: some time does pass between the first memory and the second, though that's up to you. In my mind, approximately a vorn has passed. The memories will only be ones I consider significant in Megatron's past, ones that eventually leads to the war, so not every moment will be represented in the story.

Location: Towers, Iacon

The room was filled with wails and sounds of choking sobs as the Tower twins clung to each other in desperation. It wasn't they who were screaming in horror; no, those screams belonged to the mechs and femmes who had just come in, their Creator's friends, comrades, and Towers family. Their home was bustling with activity, though every bot looked grim and sad. The twins knew they were in the way of the investigation, but they didn't care. Nothing anyone could say could get them to move or come out of their shell-shocked condition. No one dared to remove them by force.

Silverstreak and Orion Pax stood in a puddle of no-longer-glowing energon. It was a disgusting black-green colour, and not at all the colour of the energon they had both spilled when they came running into their Creators' rooms waving full energon cubes.

No, the energon they spilled was still glowing blue and was now in a puddle at the entrance. The discoloured energon they were standing in was the energon that had been spilled from their Creators' frames. Their Creators lay in front of them, their frames retaining little of their original colours. Shadowflare and Firecrown were dead. Dead. They were dead.

~Silverstreak? ~

~Orion? ~

~Ironhide's lying. ~

~I know. ~

They stood there in a puddle of black-green, cold, congealing energon. Ironhide eventually told them that their Creators had been murdered. They had been poisoned, then stabbed in the processor among other things.

The Prime was there too. He looked on sadly at the cold, slowly greying frames of Firecrown and Shadowflare.

The younglings hadn't uttered a single word since their bloodcurling screams at the discovery of their Creators. They had been trying to stay strong for each other, and speaking would shatter that façade they were trying to hold onto. They couldn't just break down and start sobbing. Shadowflare would highly disapprove of such un-noble-like conduct. If he had still been alive. Thinking this, both younglings pushed back another wave of emotions that threatened to overwhelm their resolve. In the end, it was Silverstreak who broke first.

~Orion, I'm scared. ~

This surprised Orion; Silverstreak rarely showed such emotions. For it to happen now spoke volumes of the desperation and pain his brother was feeling. ~Me too, Silverstreak. I'm scared too. ~

~What are we going to do? What's going to happen to us? ~

~I don't know. I don't know anything now. All I know is that they're gone and this time, they're not coming back like before. This time, they're really gone. ~

~... Yeah. ~

It finally became too much; the gruesome scene before the trembling younglings was not one mechs of their age should ever be exposed to. Energon still slowly dripped from their Creators' distorted processors, their chassis two mangled messes of metal pried apart to expose their now empty spark chambers, their limbs lay twisted at odd angles, their throats now torn messes of cables.

~They broke their promise, Silverstreak! ~

~I know, Orion. I just…

Shadowflare's wings had been nearly ripped right off; they were hanging on only by the few cables left attached. The weapons system that he was so proud of had been completely destroyed, save for the fusion cannon that had been ripped off but otherwise left undamaged. His arms had been torn apart, every single cable snapped, the thick armour smashed to pieces. Firecrown's beautiful helm adornments had been brutally ripped off and tossed about the room. Her weapons system had been utterly ruined as well.

… I don't even care that they did anymore. I just wish they were here. ~ Silverstreak knew what Orion was talking about. But that didn't even matter, not anymore.

~They said they would never leave us for real. They said they would always come back. They said they – ~

Shadowflare and Firecrown's optics, once pairs of striking sunset orange and piercing emerald green orbs, no longer glowed with the brilliance they used to. Now they were just dead and lifeless and as dark as the optics of a dead mech. The warm glow and the calming pulses of their sparks would never be felt again, having flickered out long before Orion Pax and Silverstreak found them.

~Orion, please – ~

~They said they would always be there for us! They said – ~

~I know what they said! But they're dead now! Dead mechs can't keep promises!~

Energon was splattered everywhere on their frames, like dark, twisted decorations adorning their mangled forms. It streaked down their faceplates like tears falling from their dead optics. But that wasn't possible. Cybertronians didn't shed tears. It was impossible to cry tears. Upon remembering this, Orion wanted to cry an entire flood of tears at thinking how sad their Creators must have been. How lonely. How desperate. How scared. Shadowflare didn't get scared, but it was still really horrible. Like how horrible it was now.

~I know that! They didn't keep their promise in the end. Why couldn't they just stay alive?!

~Because some mech killed them dead, that's why!~

Silverstreak would never again be able to watch Shadowflare transform. He would never again be able to admire his fusion cannon. He would never again be able to fly with his Creator. Orion would never be able to hang off his Creator's large frame like he used to. He would never again have the chance to watch him fight. The days when they could listen to Firecrown explain Cybertron's history were gone. The nights when they would fall into recharge listening to her tell stories of her adventures and Cybertron's cities were no more.

~… they were supposed to be with us until we became like them. Until we grew up.~

~But we're not all grown up yet. And they're gone. Orion, what are we supposed to do now? ~

Everything they had known, everything that was familiar, everything that was constant, was gone, all in a single second. In that moment, their life came crashing down around them. Everything was gone. Their Creators were dead. Gone, just like that. They had nothing but each other left. Everything was gone.

~I don't know. I just want them back. I just want Shadowflare to be alive again, even if it means we'll have to listen to a billion lectures. ~

~I want Firecrown back, even if it means we have to stop fooling around and study all day.~

~… I miss them. I wish they weren't dead. ~

~… but they are dead. Do you think… do you think that at least they might be happy now, being in the Allspark? ~

~Silverstreak, it's being 'one with the Allspark', you dolt. And yeah, I think that at least they might be happy. Maybe they miss us too. ~

~Yeah, I think they do. ~

With that, the twins lapsed into silence and further tightened their embrace around each other. They couldn't let go. If they did, they would really fall apart. They had to be strong, not so much for each other but for everyone else. So like that, they held on to each other, never once letting go.

O.o.O.o.O

Finally, after half a joor, the twins detached from each other. Orion ran into Zeta Prime's arms and Silverstreak was swept up by Ironhide.

"Why did they die, Zeta?" Orion asked, his large optics filled with an immeasurable amount of sadness.

"I don't know, Orion." Zeta was lying. Orion could see it. But he only nodded and buried his helm into Zeta's armour, his own frame trembling.

"Who did this, 'Hide?" Silverstreak wondered, his voice shaking.

"I don't know, youngling. But we will find out and punish those who killed your Creators."

Silverstreak nodded and sniffed. "I hate them."

Ironhide looked at the lost youngling in his arms. His hardened spark broke just a little.

O.o.O.o.O

The two of them were taken to the Prime's home. The Prime had the heaviest protection in all of Cybertron, after all.

Zeta Prime stood in the doorway and watched them fall into recharge, Ironhide at his side. They twins clutched at each other even in their rest, the orn's traumatizing events having followed them even into their recharge cycle.

"Zeta…" Ironhide rumbled

"I know, Ironhide. They know. We have to keep the younglings safe." With that, the large frames of the Prime and his bodyguard disappeared, off to double check that the entirety of Prime's Palace was secure and on lockdown.

They didn't notice that Orion Pax and Silverstreak were both very much awake, nor did they notice the shadow of a small, lithe frame as it dropped down from its hiding place. They were already too far away to hear it when the twins squealed in surprise at the sight of an intruder.

O.o.O.o.O

Silverstreak woke to terror pouring into his bond from his brother. His helm hurt and his processor felt woozy. He couldn't see very well either. What had happened? Then, all of a sudden, everything from the previous orn came rushing back. He remembered now. Their Creators were dead. They had been taken to the Prime's Palace. Then… there was nothing.

~Streaker? Are you okay? ~

~I'm fine, 'rion. Are you okay? ~

~I'm okay. I don't think we're in Zeta's palace anymore though. I don't even think we're in Iacon anymore. ~

~You're right. Iacon doesn't have these kinds of sounds. ~

"Then where are we, Streaker?" Orion whispered in a broken voice, having slipped from talking through the bond to physically speaking without noticing.

"I don't know, Orion."

Suddenly, a new voice cut in, dim light filtering in as the mech opened the compartment they had been stuck in. "Heya, little mechs. How're ya doing?" When the two younglings did nothing but glare back, the mech chuckled. "Alright then. Can't expect much else. Welcome ta Tyger Pax! This will be yer home now. There ain't no goin' back."

They were hauled out of some vehicle of sorts and dumped ungraciously onto the dirty grounds. Then the silver mech laughed gleefully, transformed, and sped off, leaving them in the dark alleys of Tyger Pax. They were all alone.

O.o.O.o.O

They wandered the loud, gross, dirty and uncouth streets of Tyger Pax for three orns, reduced to begging for energon. They hadn't consumed any since the morning of the orn they found their Creators dead. They were both becoming extremely weak, their energon level almost down to zero. Orion was sick and nearly depleted of all his energy. Silverstreak was no better off. But it didn't matter how much they begged or who they asked. The response was always the same. In the end, when they could no longer move, they curled up against each other in an alleyway and resigned that it was their time to join the Allspark.

~Streaker? ~

~Orion? ~

~I love you lots. I'll miss you. ~

~I love you too. Maybe we can see our Creators again. ~

~Yeah, maybe. I miss them lots. ~

They almost fell into a recharge cycle from which they would never wake. They were almost dead as it was. But they didn't. Die, that is.

Large servos poked at them, and they curled further into each other, whimpering, thinking it was a bad mech planning to hurt them some more. A growling voice accompanied the servos.

"Well, frag me silly. More mechs starving on the streets. A pair of younglings too. Where has the compassion of all these mechs and femmes gone? Primus forbid they were created without any." With a sigh and the sound of clanking metal, the large servos were back.

Feeling a sharp sting in his sensitive arm cable, Silverstreak managed to pick his helm up, but didn't have any energy to maintain the position. He could feel himself being picked up, but he was too weak to fight back. The drip of energon into this frame felt nice though. He saw Orion being picked up as well. Then, for the second time in the past few orns, darkness claimed him.

Location: Megatron's private quarters, Nemesis, Earth

Megatron was abruptly jerked out of his memories as a message from Soundwave was delivered to his comm. system. Opening it up, Megatron found that it was nothing outside the parameters of normal.

Lord Megatron. Autobot attack: energon mine DE-05-07-4186. Starscream: requires assistance.

Growling in annoyance, Megatron contacted Soundwave and demanded to know if there were any available troops left.

:Negative, Lord Megatron. Vehicons: mining:

:All of them?:

:Affirmative.:

:Very well. Groundbridge me there and I will deal with Starscream.:

With that, Megatron stormed out of his private chambers, transformed, and flew down the halls to the ship's bridge.

Soundwave, having had the insight to open a groundbridge prior to his Lord's arrival, watched as Megatron flew into the swirling colours. He pitied the Autobots. Whatever it was that had his master so on the edge – and Soundwave made it a point to never pry about anything concerning Megatron – the anger was sure to be taken out on Optimus Prime.

Beating the Autobots had never failed to improve his Lord's mood, after all.