Here we go! :D

A much longer chapter for you guys to enjoy before the weekend hits :)

Not sure yet still when I'll make this a regular story,

Wednesdays sound fun...

Anywho, don't mind me guys, I'm just the writer!

Enjoy!


Chapter 2

Once In A Blue Orn

~Failure in performing startup protocol of necessary recovery softwares resulting in vital relay crashing in the following areas: Spinal relay, conversion shaft processes, sensory receptors in fallback mode, loss of complete circuit abilities, vocal capabilities crashing and no longer online, motor functions unavailable, energy cells at ten-point-seven-nine-eight percent, memory core relapsing...recovery softwares failing...scanning for solution...scanning...~


24,692 Vorns, 2 groons earlier:

Silver stretched as far as the optic could see, enveloping everything and anything in metallic beauty under the glow of the star the planet was currently orbiting. An ethereal glow came from the surface of the content environment, coloring the shimmering metals with a hint of golden warmth. Not a single acid shower cloud was in sight, nor smoke any longer from the factories. Ever since Sentinel had made the pact with the energon distributors that their output would be made so by cleaner sources, their work had reduced the planet's pollution by over fifty percent.

Vents could cycle easier, and the glowing wonder of Cybertron could be seen clearer by the wandering optic. None could help the pride they felt when they laid their gaze upon their home. This was indeed Cybertron's Golden Age.

Megatronus grinned at the sight of Iacon Hall standing gracefully against the background of the darkened sky. The star's light was only just breaching the horizon, letting the larger gladiator bask in the glittering expanse of the stars for a few joors longer. A cool breeze wafted over the land, carrying with it a sense of calmness and serenity. This gentle wind brushed along the mech's frame as he perched on the edge of the roof of his shared domicile, his legs hanging down with his arms draped over his kneebolts. His servos were clasped between them, with his helm bent back to peer up into the stretch of the lunar cycle.

Cyberton's two moons, both still unnamed, circled above as they sent milky cascades of white down upon the mass they orbited. As a creator caring for their creation, the moons gently stroked the blushing gold of the planet. Megatronus often named these satellites himself, finding that such an existence without baring any title would have been a sad one. This cycle, they were Lunesta and Hala, both designations meaning 'lunar' in some way. Yestercycle they had been Cortex and Gracium. As he stared upon them now, he found his thoughts drifting like the curling edges of the moons' cover to the designation of Euphoria, the shadows covering this femme's story abruptly capturing the entirety of his attention. His spark sped at her image in his memory core, and his CPU raced with countless thoughts and burning questions he wished to ask her. He wanted to know whom this Euphoria truly was, and he feared he may go mad if he didn't.

Giving a sigh, Megatronus raised a servo and scrubbed his tired faceplates, once again taking in the vision of her vent-taking profile that seemed adhered into the back of his optic slips. He could recalled every minute detail of her with ease, which both frightened and intrigued him at the same time.

Why would his processor save the view of her helm as it dipped so gracefully toward the back, collecting at a point before splaying out as two small attachments to the side of her cranial unit? Or how the crest of her foreplate arched backwards and fell into a swooping lean? Or the way her shoulderbolts fit so perfectly on her, connecting to other deeply blue plates of her armor as they fell over her arms like liquid mercury?

The curtain of armor flowing around her waist as a cape-like fixture... Those long, shapely legs of hers that bowed nicely into high-wedge peds... Her incredibly white optics as they spread widely in innocence and excitement... The gentleness in her tone and smile as she looked upon him so ignorantly... A small glitch in the left attachment of her helm as it spun with the sound of his voice...

"Megatronus?"

The grey gladiator was snapped from his musing as he jerked and twisted around to address who had called his name. They stepped from the shadows of the buildings and into the shivering light of the city-state. When he could see the figure, he easily recognized them.

Orian Pax: fellow pupil of Sentinel Prime, and a friend he often referred to as his sole brother. Once an orphan, Orian had come upon Sentinel while at labor in the docks, finding the Prime's words endearing and fascinating. Sentinel decided to take the youngling under his influence, and not long after, Megatronus had been found groveling in the alleyways of Kaon. The two grew close, and they now shared this domicile with the Prime as they upgraded and learned about the various values of all that was Cybertronian.

Orian was a taller mech (though still not as much so as Megatronus), with a simple navy helm that rounded back behind his crest. His sculpted faceplates shone a younger innocence, while his personality would have revealed far greater wisdom than his age portrayed. His broad chassis and shoulderbolts held a crimson-red color, and were of the highest-grade quality available. The depth of his helm's paint stood well with the red, and made up most of the covering of his peds and servos. His optics were a lighter azure like Megatronus', but his spark was far purer. One whom had never stepped ped into the gladiator pits could never understand the true meaning of death and gruesome mutilation as he.

"How long have you been up here for?" Orian questioned. The younger mech moved towards the one seated at the edge, his steps dulled in the quiet of the lunar cycle.

Megatronus returned forward, aiming his faceplates back at the sky. "Not so long, brother," he murmured, his processor beginning to shift again despite his eldest friend's presence. "I have simply been victim to my broodings lately."

"But you are usually not one to drift," Orian noted, joining his adoptive sibling by his side. "Is it perhaps having to do with the pits? I do admit I was unnerved that you had missed our lesson for the orn. So was Sentinel." The mech let his servos rest in his lap, his helm tipped back like Megatronus' to look up into the star-studded black. Megatronus huffed crudely, his skepticism at his mentor's worry for his wellbeing too great to hide. Orian knew of Megatronus and Sentinel's disagreements every so often, considering their greatly conflicting personalities.

"There was a moment I realized yourself and Sentinel Prime would worry for me. I am not surprised my assumption was correct."

"Sentinel Prime does care for you, Megatronus. You must merely believe so for you to see the true pride he holds in your name."

Megatronus glanced down at Orian and met the youthful student's optics, his expression unreadable. "Which goes to determine why he named me after The Fallen," he said lowly.

A small part of himself wished to trust the mech's word, which he had done so many times before. However, the facts against him were too many. Sentinel tolerated Megatronus in Orian's presence for the sake of the apprentice, nearly gaining a second persona in his absence. "It was merely a matter of injury that I failed in meeting for our teaching," Megatronus assured, changing topic. He was far more concerned with aiding his brother's worries than a bipolar Prime. When Orian opened his lip plates to speak, Megatronus cut him off, "I was taken care of by a fully capable femme medic. She dressed my wounds and made well sure I was not to collapse."

Orian's optics were wide with concern, his servos wrapped tight around one another. He was not a mech to take losing anybot well. And he never had been. Both Megatronus and Orian had been orphaned as sparklings, but the only difference was that Orian had been granted friendships early on in his life cycle. Though he only upgraded around a small group, he cherished each and every spark he met, meaning that if one were to perish, he was to break down and take it as a personal offense. After the mech whom had found him and brought him into his docks as a worker there in exchange for a warm berth to recharge in had been found deadsparked in his domicile, Orian had basically shut down for quartexes. He wouldn't speak, or refuel, or show any signs of his former self until Sentinel had found Megatronus. After that, Megatronus had held the displeasure of experiencing only one of Orian's shutdowns for himself.

The good that would have come out of it would have been that Orian was getting stronger. With each scar to his spark, his hide would toughen, and he could become the mech that Sentinel wished him to be. Megatronus knew that Orian needed the rougher love he was able to give, and so he would be here to give it to him. He couldn't be a student under Sentinel's watch forever.

"The medic was a femme? What was her designation?" Orian asked.

Megatronus' expression softened, his thought processes traveling again. "She was called..." he trailed off, giving a tiny grin at the recollection. "It is not important. The medical center she aided me in was in Blaster City, a city-state directly northeast of Kaon," he explained, bringing his optics down to his servos. "When I came online, I made my leave and traveled here by holorail."

"Without introducing yourself? Is that not rude for a mech to do?"

"She knows my designation. I specifically gave her my contact data so she would cease her incessant fussing over me." Megatronus knitted his digits together, suddenly frustrated with himself at not being able to get this femme out of his processor. The more he thought about her overly attentive actions toward him, the more agitated he became. He was a grown mech. He could handle a simple wound such as he had now. There had been far worse done to him than this before.

So then why couldn't he move past her memory?

Orian grinned, far used to the irritated tone of the mech. "Have you her contact data? It seems as though she is an interesting femme for you to have trusted her with your information as you did."

Megatronus paused, staring at his servos for a moment as he checked his files. Slag, he cursed. He'd forgotten to ask for her com. Instead of answering Orian, Megatronus stayed silent, refusing to display his mistake for his calmer comrade to hear. However, the student chuckled, not needing a outwardly spoken statement to know that his brother was without the femme's comlink data. "Do not worry brother, she shall contact you in time. When she does, you may save her data to your files."

"Perhaps," Megatronus muttered, finding his two thumb links far more interesting than Orian's optics at that moment. Why would he need to save this femme's comlink data into his personal files in the first place? What significance did she lead with his other than she seemed interesting to speak with? His spark jumped when he downgraded the femme from before, but he ignored it, instead trying to force his processor to move on from this mysteriously shrouded character.

"Orian," he said, trying to divert the conversation for the sake of his processor, "how was your trip to Praxus with Sentinel?"

The mech and Prime had traveled to Praxus together in order to address an issue regarding energon distribution among the neighboring city-states there. Complaints had come in for the past few orns, and Sentinel had found that it was now his duty to traverse there in order to fix this issue himself.

When Megatronus heard no immediate answer from his peer, he looked beside him, finding Orian examining his own servos. Something that he rarely ever did unless he was intimately caught in his own thoughts. Megatronus nudged the mech, only to have the distracted thing jerk hard enough to almost send him off the edge. Megatronus barred an arm out, blocking him from falling. Surprise gripped his processor as he helped Orian sit back up. He was usually more collected than that.

"Are you truly so trapped within your own processor that I frighten you so strongly?" Megatronus teased, causing a slight blue hue to appear over Orian's faceplates.

"No," he bit sternly, obviously embarrassed, "I was simply processing the events of our trip this orn. I'm not lost in my processes."

Yes, there was definitely something bothering him. Orian never used contractions unless he was lying. "Bluff," Megatronus accused, causing Orian's optics to go wide. "Was it an event you do not wish to speak with me about?"

Orian shook his helm, the bluish hue deepening as he closed his optics. "Nothing like that Megatronus, I assure you. The trip went fairly well actually..." he trailed off, causing Megatronus' interest to spike again. He picked up a servo, placing it on Orian's shoulderbolt as a gesture of support. Giving the armor a squeeze, Megatronus gave Orian a kind grin so to reassure him. The blue and red student relaxed under the expression, his handsome features less frightened.

"What is it Orian?" Megatronus urged, causing the mech to pause again. Impatience peaked in Megatronus' spark, but he pushed it away, adamant on matching Orian's legendary diligence.

Finally, Orian spoke, his tone soft and shy, "While in the Helix Gardens, during the time where Sentinel was meeting with the city commander, I came across a gathered group of sparklings and younglings from the local caretaker station in Praxus," he began as he took in a large cycle of air, maybe preparing himself. "Their caretaker...was there with them, and...of course, it was a femme. I spoke with her, but..."

Orian paused, suddenly lifting his optics straight to Megatronus'. "I was struggling with my words as if I'd never been in the presence of a femme before." Orian's servos clenched. "I'd never encountered such a beautiful femme before in my life cycle, so I was blundering and clumsy in my encounter with her. I made a fool of myself, and yet she still accepted me. Megatronus, I cannot get her out of my processor! It is as if she has anchored herself deep within my very consciousness."

Shock crossed Megatronus' features as he let the babbling sink into his systems. Orian's story was not so different from his own, and it frightened him to think that he may be suffering from the same symptoms as his brother may be going through. Megatronus forced himself to keep an expressionless composure as he managed to release his grip on Orian's shoulderbolt before he dented the armor unintentionally. "What is her designation?" Megatronus choked out.

Orian grinned and fished something out of his bracer, producing a small datapad with a brief load of information on it. "Ariel," he answered, his voice full of warmth, "she is named Ariel."

It took a nanoclick or two to realize the tone in Orian's vocal processor, and Megatronus studied his comrade for a moment to confirm or deny his assumption. Orian was too busy with the datapad to notice Megatronus' staring. The gladiator reached over to cover the datapad, knocking Orian out of his daze. "It is clear to me that you enjoy this femme's company very much for you to react as you are to her very designation."

"Are you suggesting I am in love?" Orian inquired, his optics stretching in curiosity. A mix of amusement and irritation filled Megatronus, causing him to smirk at his younger counterpart. Orian had only met the femme this orn! How was he to fall for her so soon? But was he really a mech to say such things either, going through what he was? Just a femme medic, just a femme medic, just a femme medic...

Way more than just a femme medic.

"I am simply implying that you spend more time with her Orian, nothing too much yet," he chuckled, finding the chance worth too much to merely let pass. "She is a caretaker in Praxus, correct? If you finish your studies early enough in the orn, you may pass from Iacon to Praxus by the holorail to meet with her before cycle fall."

"What if Sentinel is to discover I have been meeting with a lower caste femme?"

"Sentinel has no power over who you fall in love with Orian, remember that," Megatronus answered instantly. "No matter the argument he makes, you stand for yourself and Ariel, understand? Your life cycle, your choices." He ground his oral sheets in hearing Orian's worry over their mentor disapproving of him.

Despite what most on Cybertron viewed their leader as, Sentinel was nothing more than a softened, hard-helmed upper caste mech with no pleasure in seeing the younglings he'd adopted bonding to someone other than that in their class. It disgusted him that his creator figure would disapprove of a choice that would truly make the both of them happy instead of furthering his rank in Cybertronian society.

"I only wish for your prosperity," he'd said. He was already the Prime for Primus sake! He could place Orian in any occupational position he saw fit. There was nowhere for him to climb to.

Megatronus slung an arm around Orian's shoulderbolts again, giving them a firm, but awkward side hug. "If Sentinel is to speak up over this, I will vouch in your favor," he promised. It was issues such as these that Megatronus found he could be passionate about. Unjustly forcing your young to bond with another they do not wish for is a lesser form of slavery in his opinion, and it would not stand. That was one of the reasons he wished to be High Protector of Cybertron some orn.

Orian grinned, leaning into his companion's grasp. "And if he is to speak up over yourself and your femme, I shall vouch in your favor."

Megatronus' cycling caught in his vents and he coughed, choking on the air accidentally. Orian looked to him with a confused expression, not quite understanding why the gladiator was reacting so violently to such a well-meaning gesture. Megatronus could feel his optics watering, the cycling systems in his chassis knocked out of rhythm. He pounded his fist onto his upper chassis, trying to regain himself. It seemed his venting had returned to him, and he gave a shuddering cycle.

"The femme and I..." he broke off, coughing again, "are nothing but acquaintances. She is merely a medic whom repaired me."

"Or is she?" Orian pressed, giving an all-too-knowing smile that put annoyance in Megatronus' features. "When you speak of her, there is an edge to it that I cannot help but notice, brother. She is more than a medic, is she not?"

Megatronus looked away, not quite willing to lie, yet not so senseless as to allow his true thoughts to be exposed yet either. Truly, he was not quite sure himself of his feelings as of this time, so it was better he not trick his brother in thinking something that may not even be sincere. Orian raised his own arm around Megatronus' shoulderbolts, mimicking the gladiator as he gave his own reinsurance. "So it seems as though we both are helplessly struck. Do you care to share your encounter?"

Megatronus glanced at the mech beside him and he found Orian with his digit raised, the probe at the tip exposed. For a moment, he considered declining, but really, who was he to refuse a chance at sharing his raging processor with his brother? If anyone else had asked to delve into his processor, he would have immediately brushed them off. Especially Sentinel. However, he could never do so to Orian.

The gladiator raised his own servo, plugging the tip of his digit into the port at the base of Orian's helm. His brother did the same in turn, reaching behind his comrade's cranial unit to enter his own digit into Megatronus' interface port at the back of his neck.

At first, there was nothing. The normal firewalls produced themselves, but were taken down by their owners just as quickly as they had appeared. Megatronus pushed himself forward into the calm, freshness of his brother's consciousness, revitalizing himself in the refreshing sense of tranquility he got whenever he entered Orian's mind. The red and blue mech beside him entered into the storm of his processor, moving expertly through the tarring struggles of the past and future, and moving through the wars waging between mind and action every astrosecond of his life cycle.

The tenseness in Megatronus' frame eased, and he was able to cruise at a better speed through his brother's files and memories. They had done this many times before, when they had been younger, so every secret and hindrance in their relationship was already known by the other. Orian was easily able to follow Megatronus' lead as he too reached the gladiator's memory core and began sifting through his files. Unlike Orian's processor, which was open completely and fully to his wandering brother, Megatronus' own CPU was blocked at some points so to better protect the virtue of the youth. There were some things that were not meant to be shared yet.

Orian passed the locked files Megatronus had sealed and he moved on, not even taking a moment to possibly open them. The first times Megatronus had begun to block off his brother had both confused and hurt Orian, which in turn, hurt him. However, as time drew on, Orian had come to understand Megatronus' reasons, and he respectively kept his distance. Now, he acted as though they weren't even there, and he directed himself towards the newer addition to the memory core. Megatronus sadly moved on himself, knowing that some orn, he would no longer be able to keep his life cycle away from Orian, and he would have to share those memories. But for now, he would lock them away, deep as he could, for as long as he could.

Sentinel does not know of what you do Megatronus, Orian murmured through their connection, sending forth a wave of comfort to the melancholy mech. Megatronus accepted the gesture, but he didn't respond, unwilling to bring his comrade into his own personal matters. It was kept between both brothers that Sentinel was not to know of Megatronus' participation in the gladiator pits, for if he figured this out about a youngling he had raised, the outcome would be catastrophic.

Megatronus' participation in the pits was meant solely for research, and, secretly, as a way to defy Sentinel in what he wanted. It was well-known that a long line of Cybertronian High Lord Protectorates came from the pits of Kaon, meaning that the best chance that he held for the position would be to take part along with his fellow mechs and femmes. It was not something that he had enjoyed at first, however, as the time passed, he feared he may be starting to actually enjoy doing his work.

No. No, he wouldn't fall for it. He swore he wouldn't lose himself. If he was to deadspark in that arena, it would be as himself.

Megatronus forced himself further into Orian's files, allowing him to find some distraction from the fears and terrors he always found himself in these past orns. It didn't take him long to find the newer files from the past orn, so he swiftly opened them and allowed himself to be drug from his own poisoned consciousness to one of a better purity. Time and reality blurred by in an odd way, distorting the pictures and files as they searched and scanned along their appointed path. Actions waged, faceplates surfaced (some which Megatronus internally growled at), and a single point of the entire trip became crisp and incredibly vivid.

Orian's processor had always been the one to appreciate the smaller things of his life cycle. Therefore, when Megatronus entered the young one's consciousness, he was met with the most amazing of sights and details, most which he hadn't noticed initially. Among this scene now was a gentler feel, one of contentment and serenity. Beautiful constructs of artistic statues and crystal-lined sculptures filed down the stretch of fountain located in the center of the plaza. Cybertronian wildlife milled with civilians, interacting with the mechs and femmes and playing along with the younglings.

Squeals of happiness picked up all around Megatronus as he gaze through his brother's optics, taking in every small fixture of the refreshing airs and almost surreal glow of the area around him. Only one place on Cybertron could contain such a compliment between these incredible forms of cultural and aesthetic peace: Praxus.

Orian's gaze at the time swept the expanse of Praxus' main square, taking in everything at an almost overwhelming rate. From the gleaming spirals of the constructs bowed at the perimeter of Praxus Central Hall, to the tiny black shadows given off by the sparkling sitting against its creators as they lounged and conversed at a picnic, to the distant trails of smoke left behind by fliers coming in from Vos to land on the nearby strip in the upper third district. The slightest gush of moving air would break apart the drifting vapors, causing them to turn a softer white and finally fade from sight.

No time was given for Megatronus to fully digest the sight, for Orian's attention had now turned down, where he spotted the form of a lighter pink femme, crouched over a small clutch of sparklings and younglings. They were by a fenced-in pen nearby the fountain, surrounded by about five or so sparklings and younglings. After a moment, bubbling laughter filled the air, and the elder younglings of the small group grabbed the younger sparklings, and bounded off towards the play area to have fun. In the femme's arms, she cradled a newly created sparkling, no older than half a vorn, its thumb link stuck in its mouth. An interested emotion connected with the file was felt by Megatronus, and he watched as Orian boldly stared at the femme until she turned.

At this angle, one could make out the majority of her faceplates and form. Her helm was arched forward, her digits wagging in play with the tiny mechling in her grasp. A smile stretched over her obviously attractive features, capturing Orian's spark immediately. The mech was rooted to the spot, drawn to this figure despite himself. Megatronus snorted in amusement as the femme glanced up and locked optics with Orian, her smile broadening into a friendlier one and causing a bluish blush to flush Orian's cheekplates.

Within the click, Orian had mustered enough courage to approach the femme, giving Megatronus a closer look at her overall appearance. There was no armor on her frame, but a simple mix of metal slips used for cosmetic and basic protection purposes. The rosy hue of her helm rounded back to curve at the rear, flowing downward in a plain, but oddly fitting, shape. The rest of her covering was smooth and fitted, showing off her figure well. Though, knowing Orian, the gentlemech was more taken by her smile and optics than any frame shape. So like him.

It was true that the mech had fumbled with his words around the femme, for Megatronus had to contain himself as laughter bubbled in his throat and threatened to spill forth. First of all, Orian used contractions, which he usually never spoke with. Secondly, the simplest questions from the femme seemed to take him longer to answer than they should have. And third, the mech was purely ungraceful in anything he did around her. It must have been the flurry of emotion and mental activity linked with this file. Megatronus himself was becoming flustered by it all.

"You are a very handsome mech Orian, I was sure you would have been involved with another femme by now. One of an Apex class such as yourself usually would not be seen speaking with a Mezzo class such as I," Ariel commented at one point, now sitting with Orian as Ariel watched her sparkling clutch play in the near distance.

Orian could be felt to shift uncomfortably, the femme's words affecting him more than what Megatronus would have figured. "True, but they aren't as comfortable around the lower classes as I am," he said. He suddenly jumped, and Ariel looked at him curiously as his servos flapped around oddly, "I-I meant nothing by it of course! I expected yourself to be of the highest of Apex class femmes the way you held yourself. No-not that there's anything wrong wi-with being a M-Mezzo class femme! They are among my closest friends on Cybertron, and I try my best to make sure they get the best benefits possible!"

A good save. An uncouth and messy one, but one nonetheless. Ariel's optic ridge rose, her lip plates tilted. "You are suggesting they cannot provide for themselves?"

"No, I mean, yes...no, no I don't mean they can't provide for themselves," he told her, then shook his helm once, trying to clear the stumble. Megatronus felt empathy for the young mech, and pushed forth a feeling of comfort and support to the fellow pupil. Orian returned the gesture with a thankful one of his own. Ariel also seemed to feel some form of pity for the poor spark, and she reached over to lay her servo over his own. Immediately, a feeling of heat stretched into Megatronus' processor and he grinned in entertainment. This mech was really helm over heelpeds, wasn't he?

"Do not worry Orian, you do not offend me," Ariel said warmly. "I have a thicker hide than I appear to, and I can handle simple comments made by others about my peers."

"But I never meant-"

"Shush, you silly mech." She was giggling a bit, and used the servo that wasn't holding the sparkling to press a digit to his lips, shutting him up. "You are one of the first Apex-class mechs I have met that truly respects my feelings on these subjects. For that, I'm thankful." Another one of her stunning smiles appeared and Megatronus felt Orian's spark skip a beat. What a young infatuation.

Ariel patted Orian's servo one last time and stood, giving him a word of appreciation before she started off towards her clutch. Orian jumped from where he sat, starting after her without a moment's hesitation. Grabbing her arm, the mech swung Ariel around, much to her surprise, and he opened his lip plates as if to say something, only to snap them shut.

"May I...help you?" Ariel inquired, shifting the sparkling in her arms.

"I...well, I...enjoyed my time...with you Ariel, and I wondered if...maybe...yo-you wouldn't mind if...I-I got your comlink data?"

Took the mech fragging long enough.

Ariel grinned again, purely happy with the mech's request. She then twisted around and collected a spare note tablet from her hipbolt, scribbling a few things on it before handing it to Orian. "I was beginning to worry you wouldn't ask," she said, and came nearer, stretching up on her toelinks to press a small kiss to Orian's cheekplate. Instant warmth spread over Orian's faceplates and Megatronus almost burst out right then and there. What a sight to see, his brother becoming so disturbed by a simple femme! Priceless.

And thus, Megatronus retracted from Orian's memories, in a better mood than before. This was why he shared his files with Orian: to get this feeling of relief and reassurance that he wasn't the most clumsy mech in the worlds right now. Orian also drew from Megatronus' memory core, his own features peaceful and interested.

"She is a beautiful femme," Orian complimented after completely pulling from Megatronus' CPU.

Without someone in his processor now, Megatronus rolled his neck and stretched his sore limbs, not sure why he would be so stiff after merely a few clicks of sharing files. "Ariel is as well," he nodded at Orian and the mech averted his faceplates, the surface growing faintly blue. "And she seemed interested in you Orian. I encourage you to contact her and set up another meeting. She appears to be the femme who prefers the mech to make the first approach."

"But I am unsure of how to do so Megatronus, my entire processor is in a fritz. I cannot stop processing her image or hearing her voice. It is true she is beautiful, and that she is extremely kind and caring, but there is something about her presence that breaks me down and caused my logic systems to stall."

"You have it bad Orian," Megatronus said as he began to laugh, no longer able to hold it in. His hearty chuckles carried across the dim early orn skies, bouncing off the alleyways below them in an eerie echo.

Orian frowned, only making his comrade chortle harder. "What have I Megatronus?" he wondered innocently. Megatronus calmed down enough to regain some of his venting, liquid building by the rims of his optics.

"Love Orian. You are hopelessly, unbelievably in love with Ariel."

"Bu-but that's impossible! I've only met her this orn!" And there go the contractions.

"Lies. You are a horrible fibber my brother. Your words and frame betray you."

It was true, for the whole mech was leaking pure evidence of Megatronus' claims. Shakes wracked Orian's thin armoring from something more than just chill. The abuse of his words along with the unmistakable hint of azure in his faceplates tricked his processor into failing his attempts at hiding the one truth. Megatronus knew Orian too well now. Even if the mech did somehow becoming convincing at his fibbing, Megatronus would still know.

"And what of your reactions towards that femme? Are they not the same as I?" Orian challenged, causing Megatronus to fall quiet. The larger of the peers snorted and sent his brother a withering glare, his laughter dying instantly.

"She is simply my medic for the time being," he blew off. "I was acting with my interface cable, not my processor Orian. It is not love that made me behave that way." At this, Orian's faceplates contorted into a more abashed shade. Megatronus' crude and often unrestricted language around him made the mech uncomfortable at some times, considering he was such a uniform and mannerly being.

"Then what of when you handed over your comlink data without her explicit request? It was almost as if you truly wanted to grant her your data."

"I wanted her to cease her incessant hovering, thus explaining my reasons in giving her my data. It was purely professional. Nothing more."

Megatronus' snappish reply caused Orian to sigh. The cyberling must be used to receiving such fiery words from his brother, or he would have certainly been offended. Megatronus huffed and darted away his gaze, once again facing it to the vast displays of Iacon architecture. He wouldn't admit that Orian was right, nor that he himself was wrong either. There was a sort of stubbornness and pride in Megatronus he dare not break. Orian however, had no problem in expressing his helpless attraction.

"She will be expecting to see you this orn I presume?" Orian ventured, watching Megatronus from the corner of his optic. The larger storm-grey mech's chassis rumbled and he reached up his arms in a long, creaking stretch. A loud pop sounded from his shoulderbolt and a release of tension flow over him.

Air gushed from Megatronus' vents in pleasure when he came to see Orian again. "Do not develop any ideals over this Orian, it is simply an arranged meeting to discuss my health."

A cheeky grin stretched over Orian's faceplates, his shyer nature now gone. "Of course Megatronus, of course."


Waiting in a swollen mass of Cybertronian bodies, a medical room sit tucked far into the back of the building. Colorful shapes and images, meant for the tinier sparks flashed by on a holo emitter attached to the wall. Brightly shaded mesh curtains separate each berth, but a constant habit was made by the patients to leave their areas wide open to others. Amidst the collected, berths remain occupied by the younger of their species. Younglings, sparklings, and even a few cyberlings surrounded a single berth in the middle of them all, their varying shading of optics focused curiously on a hulking figure in the back. Nervous creators hovered near their young ones, holding them back from approaching said figure, or worst, speaking with him.

The visitor himself appeared ridiculous in the gathered mass of offspring. His gladiator armoring made it impossible to settle correctly on the short medical surface, while his longer limbs were forced to fold up into his chassis. His peds touched the ground, shoving his kneebolts into his vents. An annoyed feeling passed through him long ago, which had steadily turn to embarrassment, and utter frustration. Blue optics had dimmed to a lighter hue, with a grayish hint to them that suggested he wished to offline them. Sharp claws for his digits curled around his inclined legs. Many times now, he'd thought about leaving. Who was he to stay here and take this degrading torture?

But then, Euphoria would message him about waiting for only a few clicks longer, and his peds would simply refuse to move. Each sent message sparked an odd sense of warmth inside his core, and the mech was left to the mercy of twenty or so prying tiny pairs of optics as he awaited his own turn.

Various patients around him were already treated, their limbs in slings, their tears patched, and a few of the more seriously injured lying back in rest on their own berths. Megatronus tightened his hold on his kneebolts for the hundredth time, the tips of his sharp digits scratching the surface of his paint. In the corner of his vision, a small movement caught his attention, and the large mech shifted his gaze towards it.

A slight sparkling, near its youngling stage, was sliding across its berth in a sort of mild entertainment. By the appearance of their frame, and the way they moved so heavily, Megatronus knew right away it was a mechling. The red, blue, and white sparkling was playing dangerously close to the edge of his berth. He seemed too occupied with a trinket in his servos to see that he was shimmying toward the lip of his berth, and Megatronus perked up to attention. A quick jerk of the little mech's body sent him over the edge with a startled squeak.

Other mechs and femmes on sight jumped to the sparkling's aid, but it was clear they wouldn't reach him in time. Megatronus however was close enough to help, and he leapt from his perch, using his longer reach to simply lunge forward and catch the flailing sparkling. A single servo was large enough to hold the mechling, and Megatronus was able to save him from a certainly painful tumble. The small one in his palm rolled over onto his aft, focusing large, round optics on his savior.

Megatronus froze in that instant, not quite sure what to do next. The image of the fragile life sitting in his dangerous servos made his processor whir apprehensively. What if the mechling broke apart in his grasp? What if he crushed him by accident? What if the others attack him because they believe he was to harm the sparkling?

Every vent ceased cycling as Megatronus rose himself up, carefully keeping the sparkling away from his body. Flustered wires rushed against his CPU, overwhelming it with possibilities, demands, and the sight of every mech and femme standing and staring at him. His energon pumped harshly throughout him, his nervousness clear. He was afraid they may hear his beating pump.

And then, as if Primus himself had sent her, Euphoria and another mech walked into the room. They immediately noticed the strange still that had taken up the space, and the sapphire femme and yellowish-green mech directed their optics to Megatronus. A quiet lock of their three set looks paused Megatronus further, and he grew flustered about what to do next. To knock them back to reality, the gladiator lifted the servo holding the mechling, his faceplates dubious. Euphoria was first to act, starting forward briskly toward the mech and sparkling.

"Smokescreen, you silly mechling," she cooed as she approached. "What happened?"

Megatronus knitted his optic ridges together in the most scolding way he could, and he peered down at the sparkling he held. "He wasn't paying attention to his surroundings, and as a result, he fell." His voice sounded low and menacing, and Smokescreen's optics went wide on hearing it. Sudden fear crept into those innocent optics, and Megatronus felt his spark jolt. Did he go too far? Smokescreen clung onto Euphoria as the femme lifted him into her arms, her servo touching the back of his helm.

"Shush Smokescreen, you are alright," she murmured into his audio. Her helm angled to Megatronus, and he saw her grin stretching over her features. "Thank you Megatronus, I am sure Smokescreen is appreciative you saved him. He is simply a shyer thing."

"It is...alright," Megatronus murmured as he stopped and watched the femme, vaguely wondering how it was that they held such natural talent at taming the youths. Smokescreen slowly shoved his helm under Euphoria's chin, his still-wet optics aimed up at Megatronus. The gladiator tried to create a better expression for the sparkling by relaxing his faceplates and smiling down at him, but Smokescreen merely squeaked again, turning away.

The mech whom had followed Euphoria in came by her side, his gaze studying his apparent patient. "I apologize for placing you in this wing of the medical facility Megatronus, but it appears as though our mech wing is full with gladiators and militia," he explained. "My designation is Ratchet, and I am the SIC medic below the Chief Medical Officer Wingnut." He gestured to Euphoria, "And his femme beside me is my colleague Euphoria, this facility's TIC." The mech offered his arm in greeting, which Megatronus accepted and properly grabbed bracers with.

"Greetings Ratchet," Megatronus greeted. "I am already familiar with Euphoria, thank you." He took note of this mech's appearance for later reference. He seemed as if he had been in his Cybertronian frame for some time now, but he could not be more than ten vorns elder than Megatronus. The features of his faceplates were set in a permanent scrutinizing way, as if he were constantly watching and studying. It put a cold edge in his spark to see Ratchet so close to Euphoria, his arm around her shoulders. Was there a protective hint in his expression?

Euphoria bounced Smokescreen a few times before handing him off to Ratchet. Smokescreen was less abash than before, and was now observing around him in a more alert fashion. When he met gazes with Megatronus, there was still a hesitant shake in his optics, but he broke the contact far less than before. The medic femme came forward and shamelessly took Megatronus' servo in her own, her far smaller digits wrapping around only three of his. A kind grin graced her beautiful profile and she jerked her helm behind her.

"Why don't we relocate you to a more proper location so Ratchet and I may examine you in peace, hmm?" she suggested lightly, already leading him away. Megatronus found himself speechless as he followed behind. Ratchet was out of his peripheral view at the moment, but he felt the mech's optics burning into the back of his cranial unit.

Faint waves of electricity traveled up Megatronus' arm at Euphoria's touch, and he caught himself staring at their interlocked servos. This was the first femme to actually have no care that he was a gladiator from Kaon, and approach him with such ease and comfort. Others would have surely bolted when he initially spoke with them. It had become a common occurrence for him to experience never talking to others as much as he did to Orian or his gladiator counterparts. However, this one was different. Ratchet obviously was not trusting of him, if the constant, subtle glares sent his way as the mech walked beside himself and Euphoria was any evidence. Euphoria on the other servo treated him as any other Cybertronian citizen. Not even the medics of the gladiator pits were as eased around him as she. Did she understand he was champion?

Their group traveled through the lengthy halls of the facility, their steps echoing hollowly off the metallic walls. Other patients and medibots walked by, blatantly watching Megatronus as he traveled along with the delicate nurse femme. It wasn't long before they turned one last corner and ended up by a small room reserved in one of the many military-designated areas. Multiple series of injured mechs, femmes, and aids milled about around Megatronus and Euphoria as they passed by to get at the entrances down the corridors. Crowding frames slipped by one another and brushed by every so often. A rushing mech medibot plowed by, knocking into Euphoria. Her shoulderbolt was hit so hard that she stumbled back into Megatronus, and he lifted his servos to steady her.

Megatronus ducked lower and quickly checked she was alright before he scowled and straightened, his arm flashing out to catch the medic whom had hit his femme guide. A purple and blue mech, he bore the shining emblem of his medical occupation on his right shoulderbolt. He must have been a younger Cybertronian, for his frame did not appear completely upgraded as of yet.

That did not stop Megatronus however from swinging the offender around, his one servo still on Euphoria's shoulderbolt. "Excuse yourself," he snapped. "You collided with this femme." His optic slips narrowed and the mech he addressed paused to look between him and Euphoria. After a few nanoclicks of silence, the mech drew up his lip plates in a smirk and snorted before curtly walking away. Megatronus, shocked, moved to grab the medic again. A servo came out and intercepted his arm however, pulling it down away from his target. It was Euphoria who had stopped Megatronus, and he found his arm held gently in her two slim servos.

"Please, let him go. I do not wish for a disturbance," she begged softly. Her faceplates were pleading and no longer wearing that bright smile she usually bore. Megatronus wished to argue, and he had full right to do so when she was requesting he back down from retaliating to insult. However, something kept him back. He hesitated for a mere moment when his spark slowed and his anger suddenly ebbed. Euphoria still gripped his arm, her optics begging him to step off. "That was Decker," she explained, looking where the mech had left, "he is a newer medic from Prolihex, and he has no respect for anybot but himself. Not even Wingnut has yet broken him."

Megatronus snorted and pulled his arm back away from Euphoria's grasp. No mech should be so openly disregarding, no matter his personal vendetta against the worlds. It irked Megatronus to simply ignore the fading figure in the sea of Cybertronians, but he drew his optics away despite this and allowed himself to simmer quietly. When Decker had disappeared completely, Megatronus shook his helm and began to follow behind Euphoria once again. Ratchet had come up beside her in Megatronus' distraction and was now chatting with her as they proceeded. A laugh unlike any Megatronus had heard before split her lip plates and his spark sputtered. Ratchet grinned as well, which swiftly snuffed out the moment faster than it had come.

A dark spike of irritation pumped through Megatronus' energon at seeing the mech so close and comfortable with Euphoria. But at the same time, he mentally wrung himself back to reality. What was this he was feeling? Why should he care if Ratchet is close to Euphoria? The mech must have been here for vorns now, and Euphoria did look like an apprentice. They must have known one another for some time.

Abruptly, Euphoria turned back to Megatronus and flashed him a grin before gesturing toward an open door. Megatronus shimmied between Ratchet and Euphoria to enter the room, momentarily separating them. Ratchet only huffed and backed up to allow Megatronus more mobility, not saying anything until the gladiator was inside the room and headed for the medical berth towards the back. A simpler room, it was sparsely furnished with but a single toolcart, observation light, berth, wash rack, and a set of drawers.

"Sit down, and Euphoria and I shall begin the examination," the elder medibot ordered, starting for the drawers. Euphoria hovered around the berth where Megatronus settled, her servos held before her and her gaze following her superior.

Megatronus couldn't help the action he made when his optics flicked over and became stuck on Euphoria's faceplates. Truly a work of art, she was attractive to the sight and gentle on the senses. Her helm was a sleeker design, while her chassis and pelvic covering was sharp and of a more modern style. The edges gleamed under the artificial lights of the ceiling, making sure to outline her best points. Thin layers of royal blue sheeting covered her hipbolts and wound down her legs to connect to her peds. It was not a usual sight these orns to see a femme covering her legs, for the most recent fad had been to show as much protoform as possible. This femme however, covered both her arms and legs. She was discreet, and it was for that reason that she gained Megatronus' respect.

The blue of her legs flared at the second half before coming down into a thicker heelped design. Another uncommon sight. Not only was her paint of a darker color, when the femmes of the vorn were wearing such colors as pink, yellow, gold, and green, but she was a femme with self-respect. Though, what caught his gaze was the almost unnoticeable twitch of an adornment on the side of her helm. It flickered in a sort of pattern, where the slightest noise or voice caused it to flutter. Was it a sort of amplifier device? Megatronus slimmed his optics, trying to study it harder. One twitch...two twitch...three twitch...four...

"Your observation would last longer if you took a picture, Megatronus," Euphoria's tone picked up and Megatronus jerked. His optics shuttered and opened over and over as he shook his helm. A sudden realization had him finding that he was indeed staring at this femme, and that she knew this fact made this further embarrassing. Megatronus shifted on the berth to direct himself forward again, and his shoulderbolts hunched. He strained to keep his azure optics ahead, more so focusing on Ratchet as the medibot walked to him to begin work on his frame.

But, no matter his attempts, Megatronus could not keep himself from stealing a glance beside him. He found Euphoria with her sights on the floor, her lip plates up in a grin. This nearly destroyed his abashment, and the gladiator returned to trailing Ratchet's quick movements as his digits danced around Megatronus' frame. Welds made here, wires replaced there, there truly was no major injuries sustained. It was when Ratchet reached Megatronus' kneebolt that he paused. He opened the pivotjoint panel and peered inside at the mobility mechanism.

Ratchet dipped a tool Megatronus did not recall into his pivotjoint and fiddled around for a split astrosecond before a sharp jolt ran up Megatronus' leg. The gladiator jumped and his digits locked around the lip of the berth. Ratchet pulled away at the mech's reaction and he called over Euphoria. The femme glided over and bent closer to Megatronus' limb, her expression concentrated. After a moment or so, both medics exchanged information on what they found. A still confused Megatronus could only listen into the foreign language before he interjected, leaning forward.

"I do not understand," Megatronus said. He tried to get a look inside his kneebolt, but failed. "What is ailing me?"

"It appears as though your kneebolt is cracked," Euphoria reported, giving him a concerned look. "It will have to be replaced."

Megatronus raised his optic ridges at the news, surprised. There hadn't been any severe pain from his leg that he'd known of. Perhaps his tolerance had risen. Or it could be possible that he'd shut off his pain receptors after his fight with Blackout and hadn't returned them to power. In any instance, injuries to the pivotjoints were exceptionally painful compared to the usual wounds made to arms, legs or the torso. It was shocking that Megatronus hadn't even a limp to show his discomfort.

Euphoria's lip plates went into a hard line and she lifted her servos, softly placing them on his kneebolt to observe it further. Megatronus vented a sigh, his spark dropping in disappointment. This could not do well on his championship in the pits. An impairment such as this could not be replaced so easily as it was during the early orns of the Golden Age.

"Unfortunately, you will be required to undergo physical recovery therapy to restrengthen the pivotjoint once it is replaced," Ratchet spoke, wiping his servos in a cloth to remove the grime. Euphoria closed off Megatronus' kneebolt panel and kept her servos there as she twisted her helm around to see Ratchet.

"I will assist him with the physical therapy Ratchet, it is my sector," she volunteered.

Ratchet set down his cloth and put his servos on his hipbolts, his optics disapproving. Megatronus' optic ridges burrowed at the mech's expression, and he ground his oral sheets. What had Megatronus done to frag off such an unhappy being?

"No, Euphoria. You are on initiation stage, therefore you are unable to accept private patients." A snap of the optics and Ratchet had caught his gaze with Megatronus'. The medic broke the contact with a cold calmness. "Physical recovery therapy is First Aid's area of expertise. Megatronus will report to him as seen fit by Wingnut's prescription."

Unnecessary tension was building between the two mechs, creating a thick sense of dislike whenever they were near one another. For reasons beyond Megatronus, there seemed to be some form of irritation Ratchet was getting when in the gladiator's presence. And Megatronus found he liked this distaste from the mech. Why was another question in the mech's processor at the moment- perhaps it was the sight of seeing the femme medic standing so near to the mech and the shy glances she stole of him. Whatever it was, it wasn't becoming enjoyable anymore, for Ratchet was formally rejecting any and all possibilities for the apprentice (his, Megatronus assumed) to be in the same area as him.

Sliding from atop the berth, Megatronus stood tall over Ratchet and the femme, using his size as a deterring factor in the Cybertronians' disagreement. "That will not be necessary Ratchet, for I am perfectly able to perform my own diagnostic if I see fit," he said. He rolled an arm, relishing the feel as the pivotjoint there popped and released a wave of knotted wires and parts. "The medics residing in the pits are more than qualified to see to my needs." Glaring optics, full of a silent warning for argument, shot the medic's way, and the yellowish-green mech huff indignantly.

A deeply blue femme lifted her servos, open, as if she wished to jump in, but she seemed unsure to get in the middle of this fiery battle of whims. Megatronus admitted that Ratchet was a stubborn one, and purely wasn't afraid of displaying his authority, however he didn't appear that much of a fighter. The young squabbler was wisely a speaker mech than a warrior. A sneer crawled underneath Megatronus' faceplates, to which he gave Ratchet easily, and the medibot shook his helm in annoyance.

"Megatronus, I ask of you to leave here if you are so certain of your condition," he offered, twisting around and gesturing for the door. An almost hopeful gleam edged the mech's optics, ones that were doused in an untouched white hue. A gladiator at spark, Megatronus was adamant on leaving on his own terms, therefore he didn't immediately move.

Euphoria stood loyally beside him, watching the side of his profile with curious, pearl-colored optics of her own. "Megatronus...?"

"I will," he spat back at Ratchet, stalking forward with his peds thumping deliberately strongly against the hollow floors. Not once did he peer backwards at the femme whom had helped him, nor did he allow himself the pleasure of giving the snobbish Mezzo-class medic a quick strike to the noseplate. It would do him no good to return to Orian and Sentinel Prime in energon cuffs and Cybertronian elites on either sides of him. His mentor already disapproved of his behavior. Mainly, it was Orian who influenced Megatronus' will to walk away - to step out the doors and ignore the whining of his spark for Euphoria's bright smile and wandering gaze.

Attached stares followed his every move throughout the aid center while he passed. This was a fairly heavy reason the gladiators usually refused treatment at the main centers, for fear of this discrimination. And with himself being an Alpha-class mech gladiator, the urge to fix ones optics on him was too great. The progeny of Sentinel; a brother to the quickly arising Orian Pax; the rightful heir to the Cybertronian Matrix of Leadership; a barbaric, sparkless killer gladiator from the lowest of Kaon; so many whispers and murmurs attacking his sensitive audios. And yet he pushed away most, already used to hearing impudent, meaningless gossip such as this.

Little, tiny blazes surged within Megatronus' frame, threatening to burst the longer he roamed outside of the pits or his Iacon domain. Here, it was merely misinformed, ignorant Cybertronian femmes and mechs who wanted nothing more than to rid their planet of the higher caste. And yet, in their rash blindness, they lead lives dedicated solely to their leading Prime and fantastical deity. It was all pompous nonsense to a fighter such as Megatronus, as it was for those in the lower Terminal-class. What upper creature would leave his disciples for ruin and tragedy? For failure? Megatronus believed in no such slave worship.

Boarding the holorails now, aimed for Iacon and the audience of his younger sibling, Megatronus made his position by the rear of the cart, allowing those before him to shuffle nervously away and congregate by the upper half of the moving transport. A sigh rattled the tired frame, the ashy grey of the silvery substance but a glimmering addition to his already intimidating presence. Gladiators saw no wrong in being feared, however, it had been Megatronus whom desired nothing more than to protect those who became terrified of him. Already he had applied for High Lord Protectorate, ready to stand in the airs of the political stream in hopes of securing his spot as the next Prime succeeding Sentinel.

Sharp discomfort spiked on Megatronus' left side, and he grabbed at it, an almost indistinguishable wince crossing his expression. It was a constant throb, one that quickly grew more bothersome than painful. All this felt could be concealed and dealt with at a later time - more so suppressed than concerned about at the current moment. Still the burning continued, causing a low hiss to escape the great figure's lip plates. This in turn received a jerk from the unsettled crowd around him, with a few inching away in uneasiness. Such petty fears, for one which doesn't even exhibit a want to harm. At least, Megatronus had the reminder that perhaps they weren't always to fear him. Maybe, at some later point, they could come to follow a stature who was indeed real to both the optic and spark.


Unsure.

Worried.

Pleading.

These all apart of the same being. One, who should never of been placed in this position in the first place: Orian Pax.

Megatronus felt his spark pulled and twisting in the event of seeing such displeasure in a comrade so close to him. More so than that of his wound egging at his side and kneebolt. Sentinel had called upon him, through the innocence of the one he deemed his protégé, and now Orian remain striding by his elder peer's side, his legs for now too short to possibly move with the grace of an Alpha-class as he had been raised. Megatronus was angered by the stunt of the bold mech, finding his tactics of communication cowardly and audacious.

Entering the Prime's chamber bore no better results, for the gladiator and his student brother came into an awaiting, broadly evident silhouette patiently in wait by the front of his sturdy desk. A simpler space, there was but a cluttered series of compads and documents scattered precariously amongst Sentinel's desk, shelves holding holocubes full of Cybertronian data and history, and a wide view of the planet of which he controlled behind spotless crystalline glass windows.

Tempest storms already raged both in the distant horizon and in Sentinel's gaze, putting hesitance in the already frayed Orian and a deeper seething in a ruffled Megatronus. A single compad lay before any of the others, laid specifically atop the others as a means of intimate attention. Across the front was a boldly printed title and script concerning one single mech among them. Snapping his optics back, Megatronus completely prepared himself for the wrath of this obviously discontent Prime.

Sentinel was grinding his oral sheets, the mechanisms straining in his jaw, while his servos locked behind him. "Megatronus, I wished to speak with you concerning recent...behaviors I felt we needed to discuss."

"It is not in my interests to attempt supporting claims to decisions I have made as a fully upgraded mech of Cybertronian society," Megatronus retorted hotly, minding the level of his tone in Orian's company. No need to make any further fright for him. H

owever, Sentinel seemed unwilling to recognize the cyberling's state, for he came forward and scowled under highly strict and hardened blue optics. "Spoken as a gladiator," he drew out the word in disgust, his faceplates crinkling. "However, my kin are of no occupational currency, correct?"

Megatronus, his core cold as the iron alloy making his frame, met his adoptive figure with a challenging and rebellious glare of his own, taking pride in the utter glower Sentinel gained when noting the defiant spark in his apprentice. "I am able to choose my own paths in this life cycle Sentinel, you are not to decide them for me."

"That is not validate reasoning to dictate your perseverance towards such an abominable sport!" he roared, his height increasing in his agitation so he was optic to optic with his student. "Such deplorable acts such as this deserve correctional attention at the academy, not a promotional standpoint in our political hierarchy."

"It is merely for credential gain to power my own diplomatic education, seeing as you refuse to excel Orian and I in such branches-"

"Silence, Megatronus!" Sentinel barked, causing Orian to jerk against the gladiator. Megatronus snapped his jaw shut, his optics a scorching haze. "Heed this warning to you, that I have thankfully the merciful passion of this orn, by the sure will of Primus, that you will secede from this frivolous game and retire to the proper education I generously provide to you. As of this click, I shall decline the application of your promotion, as High Lord Protectorate, for you have greatly disappointed me Megatronus, as well as-"

"Sentinel Prime, that is unjust!" Megatronus argued, starting forward with an open servo. "I have proven myself worthy tenfold above those in the ranks for the position of High Lord Protector-"

At this moment, a flat palm rapped across the cheekplate of the steadfast mech, sending him stumbling aside into the form of his comrade. Orian was swift in catching Megatronus, however, the smite had done its job, and the shock settled immediately in the space for the two students against their mentor. Frozen sparks drew quiet, sending the walls in a silent fit of deafening soundlessness. Sentinel held his servo high, retracted against his pupil with an unforgiving mix of emotions raging along his features. Stinging tingles prickled along the side of Megatronus' cranial unit, his helm turned to the side with the pure force behind the strike. Disbelieving, Orian switched from Megatronus to Sentinel with wide optics.

"Do not dare interrupt me," the Prime rumbled lowly, sending but a ringing chill against the heated moment. These words sent Megatronus' surprise and inner hurt to a withering level, his anger and injured dignity sending enraged flashes over his metallic faceplates. Orian begged him oh so subtly to stand down against their mech figure, maybe asking that this be settled another time. It was events such as these that Megatronus wished he shared a true sibling bond with Orian, if only to express his condition of his growing dislike toward Sentinel.

Hesitantly, the gladiator swallowed his pride and stood in stiff straightness before his Prime, his shoulderbolts squared and his body language showing nothing of what he felt beneath the armor. Sentinel didn't appear as flustered as before, however, there was that ever present icy tone in his gaze, showing his ruthless inner side.

"This brash profession you have associated not only yourself with, but Orian and I by, will come to an end by the latter of this orn, compute?" Sentinel demanded in a barely withheld growl. "And if not, then there will be weighty consequences to pay by."

"Of course Sentinel," Megatronus spoke on practiced glossa, not biding himself to waste energy on somebot such as this. He wasn't worth the time.

The Prime nodded and flicked his servo, curtly dismissing the both of them without a single word. Megatronus stole himself away before he gave himself the chance to speak up against the ridiculous mech. Orian followed close on his heelpeds until they reached the shared chambers they had by the front upper level of the structure. Together, they ventured to their berths, both using their own ways of climbing on the familiar constructs.

The gladiator rolled along on his spinal support, resting weary limbs as he lied with servos over his tanks and a single leg propped up at the kneebolt. Orian, on the other side of the floor, sat with legs hanging over the lip of his luxurious recharging spot, his servos knitted awkwardly in his lap while his optics searched the shape of his comrade's faceplates.

A sense of awkward tension crossed Megatronus and his vents released a sigh, his helm tilting to face his worrisome companion. "Something is on your processor Orian," he assumed.

Apprehensive at first, Orian waited around a click before making any sound, his gaze holding steadily with Megatronus'. "Are you alright?" His voice carried soft and gentle, as though fearing he may break Megatronus with its sound, or Sentinel may very well overhear them and reprimand them both for speaking of the past. Megatronus felt a warmer glow in his spark with the concern of his brother, a smaller grin playing with the ends of his lip plates. His direction turned to the ceiling above, which contained various designs and doodles made by the gladiator over the vorns in Sentinel's shadowing.

"A gladiator such as I suffer far worse Orian, do not place unnecessary concerns on me. Your studies are further in importance."

"Further in importance than my brother? I do not see the possibility in that claim Megatronus," Orian argued back, his optic ridges coming down. Always the one of the both of them to lay extra worry on smaller events. Megatronus mused on the lesser times of his life cycle, finding a frown marring his faceplates in short time. Orian must have been suspicious of the quiet, for he stepped down his perch and walked to his brother. "Megatronus, there is nothing more important than yourself and Sentinel in my life at the moment." The gladiator curled his noseplate at the Prime's mention. "And perhaps Ariel shall become so highly seen in my view in time. However, that does not leave room in my comprehension to accept the obviously bothered state of a member in this family unit."

"What family unit is this, where the mech of the premises hits his young?"

"Sentinel's ways are not always agreeable ones..." Orian agreed. "However, I do believe he merely wishes the best for you Megatronus. Maybe...perhaps resigning from the gladiator pits is the best ideal." His suggestion left a brief feeling of betrayal in Megatronus' spark.

Such a misled, ignorant character Orian is, he thought darkly. Sentinel has influenced him too far now. Unable to stand any more lecturing intervals by either mentor or student, Megatronus groaned and hefted himself to his peds, using his momentum to skillfully glide across the distance from berth to door in a split few nanoclicks. Orian again was behind him, a servo now on his arm.

"Where is it you are going Megatronus?" he inquired, curious but hurt. Gladiator met pupil with a shielded and withdrawn glance, the darting of his optics too quick to allow Orian a general idea of Megatronus' intentions.

"To the Helix Gardens," he answered in a clipped, short way. "I need time to process...alone."

But of course, as he exited, his brother left staring after him, Megatronus knew he wouldn't be alone. The message sat waiting command on his processor, the edge of his conscience humming in anticipation. As late orn breezes skirted across his frame and buffeted his faceplates with refreshing airs, he gained the confidence to send that message and start for the holorails. It was only when he had arrived at the transport station and the full reality of what he had done settled in and he nearly wished to kick himself. But it was too late to take it back.

~Meet me at the Helix Gardens in one joor. I will be waited beside the crystal fountain, alone. There is something I must discuss with you.~


I am loving writing Megatronus' character :D

There's not much on him, so I've had to completely go off of Fanfics, Prime history, and good ol' imagination.

But I love complicated characters - the more difficult to read, the better!

Anywho, I hope you all enjoyed it,

feel free to favorite, follow, review, etc, the choice is yours :)

Thanks everyone!