Author's Note: Sorry for the wait! Enjoy!

"You live in a gilded cage, my Orion."

Orion frowns at that, figuring if someone else said such a thing that maybe he would be at least a little bit insulted, but Megatronus said it so softly. Almost sadly. Like Orion living in this cage was a detriment to him. It's not an insult; it's just an understanding of the situation he's in. A situation that Orion himself doesn't realize that he's in. Despite Megatronus's anger from earlier, that licks away at Orion's plates, it is directed elsewhere. For Orion, he can feel affection, love, desire, connection. That feeling he always has in the back of his processor when it comes to Megatronus. A connection, a bond forming that is happening on a level that can't be accessed by them consciously like a spark bond can.

Teletraan's focus homes in on their conversation. He brushes across Orion's processor, reading what they were talking about up until now.

"Functionalism puts us all in a box, Orion. It forces us to play by their rules, by their standers and either we will be unable to keep up with the expectations or be worth so much more than that. This is a perfect example," Megatronus growls, squeezing tightly around Orion's waist. "You and I are meant to be, but just one decision, one shift in rank is enough to tear us apart. We can't bond. We will never be recognized as friends let alone spark bonded. And we won't even be able to have sparklings together like we want. All because of them. All because of something that they do. All because they made it so that a number decided whether you and I were worthy of one another."

Orion frowns a little more in understanding. He knew that due to the nature of their status ranks that they aren't able to just spark with anyone. They have to be compatible rank as it is, on top of how hard it is for them to already have sparklings. As for being worthy? Orion doesn't understand where anyone could think Megatronus wasn't worth the stars. Orion getting a chance to be with Megatronus forever was the greatest gift he could achieve for himself. Megatronus was... everything. Orion was the lucky one who got a chance with Megatronus, not the other way around.

"Our people deserve more. All of Cybertronians deserve more, Orion. I've seen you, I've watched you since the moment we met. You are my idyllic vision of what a true Cybertronian is. Everyone is equal in your eyes. Even all of us in the disposable caste. You see us as people, treat us as such. You offer kindness and love first to all those around you. You listen and try to understand." One of those servos slide up his back strut while the other wraps firmly around a hip. He presses a kiss to the space above Orion's gestation tank, making the other bot squirm a little.

Orion's frame heats up in embarrassment. He looks down at those beautiful multi-colored optics, fields flustered which makes Megatronus smile a little bit.

"That first night cycle, you looked at me with genuine adoration. Not because you were a fan of the Pits. Not because you'd heard of my name and wanted to roll around in the berth with the Champion of Kaon. Not because you wanted to live out a dark fantasy for a night cycle before going back to your life. You didn't even know my designation. You saw my scars, my sharp armor, my bulky frame and you called me beautiful."

"You are beautiful!" Orion insists, running his fingers along Megatronus's neck, fingers dipping into the wires along the thinner plates, protected by the helm armor. He finds a knot in a hard to get to place, using the tips of his fingers to unravel it carefully. He knows that this was one of the hard-to-reach spots on his courted. With the shape of his helm armor and the size of his claws, it made for an excellent place for unreleased tension to gather. Orion often spent their cuddling time seeking out these spots, just to offer some ease for the other mech. What Megatronus carried in his neck, Orion carried in his hips, and the silver bot made sure to return the act in kind.

"And you mean it," Megatronus murmurs, love filling his field, combating against the anger there.

"Of course I do," Orion insists. He sooths that knot and carefully seeks out the next. "It is the wonderful thing about the perspective of others. They can see the beautiful parts of us that we do not see in ourselves."

Megatronus rumbles warmly. "And if you weren't the most beautiful bot in the world, Orion Pax, I can't imagine the bot who is. In frame and in spark."

Orion flushes, pulling his fingers from between the armor plates to hug the silver helm to his abdomen. He curls around it, gently feeling out the slight grooves and imperfections, wishing he had the power to simple smooth them away. Not because he wanted to change the other bot, but to take away any ounce of pain he could ever be in. Even the memories of unpleasant things. If he could chase them all away, sooth them smooth with his fingers alone, he would in a spark rotation.

"You are beautiful in all ways to me, Megatronus. Your spark, your spirit. Even your frame you seem to think is so had to look at is beautiful to me. Since the moment my optics fell on you in the bar that night cycle a decacycle and a half ago, I've been desperate for you to be mine. For us to be together, always. Had we been drunk, or lower inhibitions, or weaker wills, we would have bonded that night cycle, I'm sure of it. And I wouldn't have any regrets."

Megatronus sighs, something akin to relief fluttering in that heavy field. "I want to court you right, Orion. But I can say with certainty that I too would find no regrets had it happened that night aside from knowing that you deserved better. You are so perfect. Everything that I could ever want from my life but not someone I would ever have imagined myself deserving. You remind me to always be better. To be the better parts of myself. To not forget what I'm fighting for. That there are people out there that aren't just the disposables that can strive for a better life for everyone. Our lives are shit for the most part, of course we want better for us. But you want better for us too. You want better for everyone you've come across. And you... you treat them as if they are more than what the Senate wants them to be."

Orion frowns at that, pulling back so that he can look down at the silver bot again. "I do? I mean, I do want good things for the people I meet, but what do you mean make you better? You're already amazing!"

That softness again. That heavy weight of love setting in that field that Orion adores burrowing into. "That femme that tried to proposition you the night we went out drinking? The moment she touched you, I wanted to tear her arms off. How dare she think she has a chance at you? At making you stray from me? How could she not see that we were built like two pieces in a puzzle? That we were meant to be, and she never stood a chance at turning your gaze from me? Her? This buy bot. This disposable wretch. In a single moment, I forgot myself. I forgot who I was. What I stood for. But then you reached back out to her. Touched her, smiled at her. Told her that you were not to be her berth partner for the night. But then you spun her around and... and she wasn't nothing to me anymore. She was a person again. How quickly my feelings made me forget one of my own, yet she is so far beneath you and... and you never forgot that she was a person. A bot like you and me."

Orion tilts his helm, brow furrowing. "She isn't beneath me, Megatronus. No one is."

Megatronus's optics sparkle. His field now saturated with adoration, love, dedication.

Teletraan washes over his processor expressing disbelief in Orion's statement. "You are one of a kind," the AI informs him. Something he has said all Orion's life. "The moment you emerged; the dream began anew. Your dream."

Orion brushes against his friend in acknowledgement but doesn't agree with whatever additional "specialness" that Teletraan seems to believe he is. Aside from the typical, "everyone is unique in their own way" sort of thing.

For all intents and purposes, Orion is blandly average in all ways.

Disbelief from Teletraan radiates across Orion's processor, but he brushes against his friend to sooth the minor agitation. Turning his attention back to Megatronus, he softly asks, "Life is... very heard here. Isn't it? Not the just the Pits either. But all over Kaon?" He had spent the time he was able wandering around, looking at Kaon, at her people, and just trying to immerse himself in the culture as best that he can, and while there was things that he was unhappy about seeing - the homeless fighting one another, the dead torn to shreds in dark back alleys, and bots forced to sell their frame just to make enough shannix to survive - but it all felt par for the course. It wasn't something overtly common in Iacon's lower districts, but it could be found if one knew where to look.

"And other places," Megatronus rumbles, sliding further between Orion's legs to kiss the seam over his spark. "All over Cybertron our people are crying out at the injustice of the Senate and the functionalistic society that they endorsed. They need strong leaders to be their voice when they cannot be their own. They are desperate to be heard and for so long, no one has."

Teletraan hums, considering, as Orion is enraptured by his courted. By his words, his passion. How he stares into Orion's optics with such conviction that Orion feels both invigorated and purposeful. Like he needs to go out right now and make a difference. Like even he could do something to further the cause. To be helpful in some manner.

"You should hear their stories, Orion," Megatronus says, shifting closer to him. "The woes of the gladiators is just the tip of the iceberg. Cold constructs working along criminals? Down in deep tunnels, segregated from society. They are impressionable and unable to defend themselves from rapists and murderers. The tunnels are vast and unless there is a prominent vein of energon, one minor could be almost a mile's walk away from another. The perfect opportunity for an 'accident' to happen." A sneer pulls at the corner of his lips.

Orion shivers, wrapping his arms tighter around his courted, seeing the truth in his optics. "Had many...?"

"Tried to rape me? No. Luckily my frame size and natural strength protected me in the mines," Orion flinches at the implications that it couldn't protect him outside of it. "But jealous bots will do anything. For quota. To fit in. For more than the bare minimum of energon. And with my frame size, once again, the minimum needed to operate meant I got a larger portion, but it equaled out to the same thing. But for a smaller mech, it was more. And everyone down there learned to always want more."

Orion hugs him close, fingers no longer digging into seams, and just holds him. "I know that things aren't perfect. I know that people are unhappy but it's... I never..."

"It isn't your life," Megatronus murmurs, hugging him tighter. "There is no shame in it, Orion. There is a difference between ignorance and willful ignorance. You lived a life that might not be as hard as others. You see the injustices more infrequently. You don't see them for what they are on a macro scale."

"It feels wrong," Orion admits. "It feels like I'm just blatantly not seeing the bad. I mean, I knew that cold constructs worked in the mines. I also knew that criminals were sent to work in the mines. It just never occurred to me to wonder if their paths ever crossed in any manner. I guess I always assumed that they would keep the two sides separate."

"It's not a wrong assumption to make," Megatronus rumbles. "Incorrect as it may be, it doesn't mean it's not a feasible thing to do - a logical thing to do - and maybe most mechs think along the same lines. Maybe a lot of bots just assume that's the way it is and so they never dig deeper to see the truth. Once again, simply assuming something because it's logical isn't wrong. It's when one chooses to ignore the facts that I have a problem."

Orion nods, pressing a kiss to the armor plating protecting Megatronus's helm, his servo sliding over his broad shoulders. "I feel like I've been living with my helm in the ground. How could things be so bad and I simply never noticed?"

"It sounds to me like you were given a lot of fortunate opportunities that might have helped with that," Megatronus admits, snuggling into Orion's chassis. "You had a very loving carrier, and a sire that perhaps coddled you. A close family friend turned best friend in a medic so that you would never need to worry about health care. A job that you enjoyed, friends that you spent time with and for all intents and purposes, Orion, you were happy. There is nothing wrong with you being happy. The problem has always been about giving everyone the opportunity to be happy as well. Happiness isn't a finite resource. The upper caste doesn't get to horde it. Everyone deserves the chance to make something of themselves. To do what they can to make themselves... happy. And equal opportunities run servo in servo with that."

"Happiness isn't a finite resource..." Orion murmurs.

"No, my hauler, it is not," Megatronus murmurs, pulling back enough to look up into his optics. "I love you, my spark."

Orion's spark nearly rattles out of his chassis as he straightens up, blue optics wide. "I-I! I love you too!" Unable to help himself, he leans down and presses a kiss the other mech's derma. A nuzzle against his olfactory sensor before peppering his face plates in kisses. Megatronus lets out a little laugh as Orion excitedly pulling him close. "Megatronus, you sneaky cyberfox! I thought I would be the one to say it first!"

That earns the blue and red mech a heartier laugh. "I've been called many things, Orion Pax, but a sneaky cyberfox has never been one."

"Then you aren't being called the right things," he teases. Megatronus leans up a bit to kiss Orion's derma again.

They stare into each other's optics for a long moment, just absorbing the presence of the other until Megatronus finally murmurs, "That was just my experience. There are so many bots out there, who suffer under the weight of functionalism and the Senate's mistreatment of our people. So many bots are out there crying out for help. They all have stories about how our society is run by the one percent for the one percent. There needs to be equality. Basic rights offered to all of Cybertron. Like something as simple as reading."

Orion tilts his helm a bit. "Reading? What do you mean?"

Megatronus smiles a bit, but its drier than most of the others. "Most don't know how to read, archivist."

Teletraan bristles at this, as Orion frowns. "No one has taught them?"

Megatronus's smile falters a bit. "It can't be taught, Orion. You have to have the reading programs. It's how I learned. Terminus gave me his. When I gained the ability, he lost his."

Orion jolts, optics blown wide. "What? No way! I didn't - that can't be. I've never heard of a reading program."

Now they were both looking at each other as if they weren't sure what manner of creature was staring back at them. Their optics flicker slowly as Megatronus carefully asks, "You... work as a librarian and don't know about the reading program?"

Orion flushes, giving a little glare. "Everyone can read at the Great Hall. And by the way, I know that not everyone knows how to read, but everyone can learn. It's not easy, but it can be done."

Megatronus stares at him for a long moment. Then, as if in disbelief, he asks, "Are... you sure?"

Orion nods. "Yeah. I taught Ariel and Dion. I was teaching the janitor, Tide, before I was employed by the Archives, but we met up twice a chord for the last five vorn up until I left to go over lessons. You should have seen his improvement! Oh, he was so good! He had everything he needed to go on without me, but sometimes I get messages from him - " Orion laughs, joy brightening his optics, " - messages! Because he doesn't need to call me anymore! But yeah, I still get messages from him from time to time, practicing and asking me about words he can't read, but he's gotten so good, even after I left."

Megatronus straightens up, optics widening. Then, like it was written across his face, Orion feels like he could see the rapid thoughts crossing Megatronus's processor. Red optics lower to Orion's abdominal but completely unseeing. Orion quietly watches as a myriad of emotions cross over his face plates as he tries to make sense of his thoughts. Then, his optics turn up, focusing on Orion intently. "Would you teach me? I want to know how to without the program. It can fail. It can get corrupted with a virus. I would like to know how to read without the program."

Orion nods, expression brightening again. "Really? I would love to teach you! It was hard at first, teaching Dion and Ariel, but I learned where the problem is - or at least, why it was so hard for them and Tide to learn - and that's the baseline code. There isn't any procedure put in place to unscramble the baseline code that takes away the incapability to read, but I've got it figured out, so I'll be able to walk you through dismantling it without me having to get super personal in a wired connection."

Megatronus's optics flicker. "Wait, what?"

Orion tilts his helm again. "The program that you're talking about must somehow disable the code that makes it impossible to read. That's the only way I can think of that would cause Terminus to forget once he transferred the program to you."

Teletraan brushes across Orion's processor in agreement, but there is something sinister there, something angry. When Orion brushes back, surprised and curious at his reaction, Teletraan says coldly, "This is far more widespread than I had anticipated. This goes against the Codex. The original edicts of the first Thirteen. I understand now why I am here."

Before Orion could ask about that, Megatronus's face goes from confusion, to realization, to anger. "You're saying there is an active code that prevents us from learning how to read?"

"Not just that," Teletraan whispers into Orion's processor. "It inhibits so much more than a bot's ability to comprehend symbols as language. It's hampering their ability to grow intellectually. Some aspects of the code can be overwhelmed and fracture, allowing for an increase in intelligence, but the amount of brute force necessary for that could irreparably damage another's processor. They are essentially lobotomizing bots with this code. Megatronus is heralded as an unusually intelligent bot for being a cold construct when the truth is when this Terminus gave him the program that he possessed - "

"It took the block away..." Orion whispers, horrified.

Megatronus's hard expression softens slightly in confusion. "What?"

"Oh no..." Orion whispers, optics streaking white in fear, all the heat in the room seemingly leached from it. "Oh, Megatronus, it's so much worse than we think."

Boiling anger ripples from Teletraan. "Ratchet delivered you. He never downloaded the codes into your system. All of your checkups have been through him. He's never hampered your code in any way that was harmful to you - and that was even before he knew about me. I carefully scan and integrate any coding added to you and if I find it serves no purpose, I do away with it. I only allow codes and blocks that would positively affect your health, but that's about it."

"Does Ratchet know?" Orion asks.

"Know what?" Megatronus asks, optics searching Orion's face plates in growing confusion.

"I don't know," Teletraan admits. "Perhaps when you return to Iacon it is time to have a discussion about it."

Orion silently agrees before turning his attention back to Megatronus once more. He leans forward, pulling the gladiator tightly against him, tilting his helm down so that they were staring into each other's optics. He cups Megatronus's cheeks. "That code... I think... I think it does more than just inhibit somebot's ability to read."

Megatronus looks confused, then angry. His red optics flair brightly in realization. His fields ripple outward in rage, face twitching, derma curling. "To the Pits!" He snarls. He tenses, moving back slightly, almost as if he was going to pull back from Orion's arms, but then thought better of it. Instead, he leaned forward to press his face into Orion's tanks, seething. He clutches Orion tightly, trying to reign in his anger. Orion just holds the other mech, fields rippling in pain and sadness. His field feels prickly, as if the chill in his frame is leaking into them.

"I'm wrong..." he murmurs, upset. "I must be wrong. I don't know. I don't know. I just suspect. I don't know. Megatronus, I don't know."

"Okay," Megatronus murmurs back, field still rippling in rage, but his voice is calming down.

"I could be wrong."

"Okay."

"I have no proof."

"Okay."

"Megatronus?"

"Okay."

"Megatronus?"

"Okay."

"Megatronus..?" Orion rasps, shaking.

The gladiator lifts his helm, looking back up at Orion. His expression hard but his fields are calm. But there is a tension there. Like the calm before the storm. He lifts a hand from Orion's waist and gently swipes it under the red and blue mech's left optic. "I know, my Orion. Don't cry."

Orion chokes on a sob. "I should have known! I didn't... I'm so stupid! I live in a cage, Megatronus! I just don't see anything! I'm sorry! I'm so so sorry for being so blind." Teletraan bristles. "I don't want this. I don't want this at all." Something unnerving shifts in the AI, like the same sort of calm that settled over Megatronus. "I thought... I just wanted to help them, but instead I was just ignoring a bigger issue. I'm sorry for being so blind. I'm so sorry."

"You didn't know," Megatronus says firmly, multi-colored optics brighter than the star in Cybertron's sky. "But you see now. Just a little bit more than before. We both do. Our people need us, Orion. They need us to help them because it is becoming clearer to me now that it isn't simply benign neglect that sits at the heart of this. If our belief is true, then it is a conscious choice. Somebot out there," his derma curls, "wants to play Primus with us. With our people. We must stop it, at all costs. Our people deserve better. They deserve more. And we will not ever truly be free until every one of our people are."

"I want to help them," Orion sobs, clutching his courted close. "I want to do whatever I can to help. How do I help? What can I do?"

"Oh, my sweet hauler," Megatronus murmurs, leaning up to press his forehead against Orion's. "You will be so much help, my beloved. Wanting to help is the start. I don't blame you, so don't be sorry. You just weren't looking for the source of this horrible thing. You were just trying to help with the problem that you could see. I love you, my Orion, more and more each orn."

Self-hatred burned in Orion's spark, and as much as he wanted to fight this, blame himself for not being more attentive. For not seeing the source of the issue and just scratch at the surface of the problem. He wanted to argue, to carry the burden of the blame that he feels he deserves to, but this isn't about him. This isn't about his feelings on the situation. It's about recognizing the problem and making steps towards fixing the issue. And this isn't something that a little bit of problem solving is going to make go away. He needs to plan, work, and prepare for as many foreseeable problems that can stem from it as possible. This isn't about him. Stop focusing on himself. He has to not be so in his feelings.

"I'm sorry," Orion mumbles, leaning into Megatronus's forehead. "I'm trying to calm down. I just... I'm sorry."

"Your anger is justified. You should be angry," Megatronus says firmly, kissing his derma. And Orion is - angry, that is. It's not right, no one should have the ability to simply learn taken away from them. "This is a lot, I know. Take your time, my love. You're digesting something that I have spent vorn cooking up in my processor. Little understandings cascading into bigger revelations. It can be overwhelming."

Megatronus finally moves to his pedes, then onto the berth, laying down on his side so that Orion could join him. They arrange themselves so that they were all wrapped up around one another. Orion snuggles as close as he can, under the weight of both Megatronus' arm and his field.

"This was supposed to be a fun time between us. We were going to have a bit of a serious conversation, but then we would make a plan, maybe talk for the night cycle or interface like crazy until we fell into recharge," Orion says quietly, rubbing tired tears from his optics. Megatronus lets out a little huff, his engine dying done into a hum. His optics flicker a bit and the light over their helms goes out before they turn to him in the pitch darkness. Without any windows in the room, it takes Orion a moment for his optics to adjust before finding the only red, white and orange source of light scant inches from his own optics.

"Instead, I recruited you to my revolution."

Orion smiles weakly, letting out a shuttering breath. "This all feels so surreal. Like it's happening to another bot."

"It's a lot," Megatronus agrees, watching him. One of those servos gently runs up Orion's backstrut, over his shoulder and neck and up to his cheek. The backs of fingers run over the slight moisture still there in an action so loving that Orion almost wanted to cry into. How his gladiator could be in so much pain and yet still be so loving, he had no idea. "Once you get back from Iacon, we will go through the ritus. Then, and only then, if you really want to, we can start trying for a sparkling."

Orion perks up. "You wouldn't mind one now?"

Megatronus rumbles fondly. "I'm not sure how I'll ever be as a sire, but if we run into the problem of one now or none later, then I'll take one now. Besides, it's not like you'll get sparked right away. Who knows when or if your rank will change. They can't do anything if you're already bonded and sparked, right?"

Orion shrugs, he hadn't thought to look into that specifically. "I'm not sure. I'll ask Ratchet about it when I go. Maybe he will have more insight for us."

"And I'm sure he'll be angry to know that you're planning on bonding to and bearing the sparkling of a mech you met a decacycle and a half ago," Megatronus says with only a slight touch of amusement. But there is a twinge of worry in his fields. Worry that Orion's family won't approve.

"Ratchet will be exasperated and annoyed," Orion admits, "but my sire is going to give you a hard time."

Megatronus yawns, rubbing at his dimming optics a bit before snuggling Orion close. "I figured."

Orion lets out a soft laugh, nuzzling Megatronus's cheek before letting out a little sigh, relaxing against the silver bot. "We can talk more in the day cycle. And when I get back. It sounds like the approval isn't coming just yet, and even if it does, Ratchet is my primary medic. He'll be giving me any reassignment of status and I can just have him hold off a bit if we need it. It won't be forever, but it can give us a little bit of time."

Megatronus hums softly, optics dimming a bit more. Orion has to wonder how his gladiator did today that got him so tired. He can probably guess, but he doesn't want to bother the other mech who is obviously tired and wanting some rest. They lay in each other's arms in silence for a time, as Megatronus fights the call to recharge and Orion just stares at him, processor racing at everything he learned today.

"You should rest, Orion," Megatronus murmurs after a few kliks, optics flickering to half power.

Flushing a bit at being caught, Orion admits to what's on his processor, "I don't know what I can do to help, but I will do whatever I can."

Megatronus kisses his derma gently. "I know, my hauler. I never doubted for a moment the quality of your spark. I know the feeling of wanting to move. To push for action, but now isn't the time to burn the city to the ground. Right now, I'm spreading awareness and while it's slow going, it is going, and with your help with educating our fellow bots to make more informed decisions, it will be invaluable."

That seemed so... simple. He was going to do it, no questions asked. But it felt like he should be doing more. That he should be moving the earth and the sky to make this all change. Reading is important, he'll never question that for a moment. With a cassette as his sire, he learned very young the importance of knowledge. Ravage used to tell Orion of the times in which cassettes were keepers, protectors of ancient knowledge. They acted as guardians, librarians, scholars with thousands, sometimes millions of vorn of experience, for great temples that used to pepper the surface of Cybertron for great gods of the past.

"Primes," Teletraan whispers to him. "The Great Primes of the past. Your people revered them as demi-gods. And they were. The creations of Primus. Those made from his spark. The first of the Cybertronian people. They were his sparklings, and all of Cybertron were their creations."

Orion considers that. Primes were revered as demi-gods. It was believed that they were crafted from the actual pieces of Primus's spark - like sparklings. It's why the Matrix was so special. It could imbue sparks with the essence of Primus's spark. Turning those that were worthy into Primes.

"You can't be turned into a Prime," Teletraan says. "A Prime simply is. The Matrix is a measure to locate a Prime and strengthen their connection to Primus."

"Locate a Prime?" Orion murmurs, optics flickering when he realized that Megatronus's optics were recharge dim, exhaustion worn on his face plates and in the weight of his fields.

"Yes," Teletraan says, a warmth in his voice. "Primus is sneaky, you see. Even now, after all these years, he will still imbue his chosen sparklings with his spark. That is how Primes appear across time. Even if they have a carrier and a sire whom they share CNA with, their spark is a fragment of Primus's. The Matrix is designed to help Cybertronian's locate their Primes."

"Ah," Orion murmurs softly into the darkness of the room, optics dimming. "Locate Primes... like Sentinel Prime..?"

"No," Teletraan says firmly. "Not like Sentinel Prime."