Thank you all for the reviews! I really appreciate it :D

Hex-16: You are correct about Ravage's design. I don't know if the Minicons will deploy from his chassis though, I don't remember seeing anything in his Cybertronian mode that had that original chest compartment. Maybe I'll add it, who knows.

Guest: That's exactly what I was hoping to portray. Cybertron's caste system is wrong and unfair. When I created this fic, I wanted to show the darker side of this system, because I don't know many fics (or even canon) that shows this. It's awful and sad how these low castes are treated. Trying to portray the mines is actually one of the reasons I created C-14, because Megatronus was already out in the timeframe I wanted to put this story at.

The mine was dark and oppressive, closing in on all sides everywhere he looked. D-16, hunched over with a frame covered in grime and scars, drilled into the metal-rich wall. The vibrations from the drill rattled his plating, sending tremors through his frame as the heat from his exertion and the mines seeped through the cracks of his plating into his very core.

Despite the filthy air circulating through his vents, struggling to dispel the heat from his frame, and the overwhelming heat, he pressed on, servos aching, pistons groaning. He hadn't recharged in what felt like solar cycles, and the steady stream of energon that had been reduced trickling from a gash—one that his nanites had internally sealed—on his plating left him low on reserves. Yet, he continued. Stopping wasn't an option—not here, not under their watchful optics.

His clawed servos trembled as he struggled to maintain his grip on the drill. Suddenly, he faltered. The drill slipped from his grip, clattering to the ground with a clang. His legs buckled beneath him, and he crumpled onto the dirt, warnings flashing across his HUD as the heat in his frame surged dangerously close to critical, vents wheezing.

The taskmaster descended quickly upon him. "Get up!" he barked, prodding D-16's frame with the shock stick. When the miner didn't move, the overseer activated it, sending a surge of electricity coursing through his frame.

Pain flared through his circuits, but he was unable to react, systems shutting down one by one from energon deprivation. The taskmaster scowled, readying the weapon again, when a voice cut through the air.

Then came the shouting.

"What do you mean he's down?!" a voice bellowed. It was the taskmaster. "Get him up! He doesn't get to rest until his quota's met!"

"He can't even stand," another voice argued, quieter. "If you keep pushing him like this, you're going to lose a worker. Is that what you want?"

"I don't care if he rusts where he falls," the taskmaster spat. "If he's still functioning, he works."

"Leave him," the voice said. "He's no use to you if he burns out completely."

The taskmaster didn't reply immediately. A long silence stretched before the mech growled, "Fine. If he's not back up by the next solar cycle, he's scrap." The heavy stomp of retreating pedes faded into the distance.

Vaguely, D-16 felt the sensation of strong servos gripping his frame and propping him up against the tunnel wall. His helm lolled forward, dimly registering a shadowed figure crouched before him. A pair of digits carefully pried open his intake, and the cool flow of energon trickled down his throat.

He greedily processed it, the liquid coursed through his fuel lines, spreading a warmth through his frame. He blinked, the pixels of his vision piecing themselves together as he focused on the figure's faceplate. All he could make out was blue glow of optics, colored like the sky—a wonder he had not seen for vorns.

"You're in worse shape than I thought," the voice murmured. "We need to get you to Hook. He'll be able to help you."

D-16 groaned faintly, too drained to form coherent words. He felt the stranger's grip tighten as he was carefully hauled to his pedes, legs trembling beneath him. The stranger supported his weight, practically dragging him toward one of the mine's side tunnels.

"Wuhzz your name?" the miner managed to ask, getting his vocalizer working.

The mech didn't respond right away. "Terminus," he said simply. "And you?"

"...D-16."

The stranger's voice cut through the haze clouding D-16's neural net. "You've got fight in you. I can see it. Don't let them snuff it out."

D-16 tried to respond, but he used all his energy on that one sentence and only a metallic sound came out. The mech didn't seem to mind, moving the broken miner through the tunnels. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, D-16 felt something other than despair grip his spark.

Hope.

D-16 hated the unwelcome heat in his systems, sticking like a second layer to his plating. He could still feel the dirt in between his gears—it was something he wouldn't be able to get out unless he found a valuable crystal and requested cleaning supplies. He knew that wasn't going to happen any time soon. Finding those special crystals was like trying to find a servo in a scrapyard.

Most of the miners used their precious twenty kliks to rest, talk or even quickly recharge. But not D-16. He sat cross-legged on the floor, hunched over a battered datapad, scratching his stylus across the screen as best as he could with his clawed servo.

Terminus lowered himself beside him with a groan, leaning against the wall. "You've been awfully quiet this shift," he remarked, glancing at him. "Something on your neural net?"

D-16 didn't look up, optics fixed on the glowing screen. "Just trying... to find the right... words about a Prime with a glowing ball in his chassis... deciding who we get to be." It was difficult finding the right words. He never knew that writing was so much harder than reading.

Terminus glanced around, optics flicking to the corners where a small, circular white, security camera hovered, watching the group of miners. "You should be careful what you say," he warned, lowering his voice. "They're always watching."

"Frag them," D-16 muttered without missing a beat.

Terminus vented. "Let me see that," he said, holding out a servo.

Reluctantly, the miner handed over the datapad, leaning back as his mentor's optics scanned the screen. "'Were a pre-si-nor in our own frames," he read out loud, sounding out some of the words he spelled. "The Func-shun-ists built the lock and the Senate has the key.'" He kept muttering the rest low enough that he couldn't hear. He looked up again, exclaiming, "Sweet Solus! Your spelling is atrocious."

D-16 scowled. "I only learned how to write just two megacycles ago, Terminus," he huffed defensively, crossing his arms over his scratched and battered chassis.

Terminus chuckled. "It's fine—great, actually. This could be something," he said, handing the datapad back. "All you need is a proofreader."

The miner nodded, tucking the datapad into a hidden compartment on the side of his pede. But when he glanced at Terminus again, his mentor's expression had darkened, optics darting nervously to the nearest camera.

"By the Fallen! Have you shown this to anyone?" Terminus demanded suddenly, servos gripping his shoulders with surprising force.

D-16 shook his helm. "No. You're the first."

Terminus vented sharply, glancing around the cavern, his gaze lingering on the security camera hovering in the corner. Its dull red light blinked rhythmically. "By the Allspark!" he gasped. "They could make you disappear for this!"

The miner frowned, feeling the defiance spark in his core. "Let them try," he said sharply, staring at the camera. "They can't silence all of us."

Terminus's grip tightened, optics boring into D-16's. "You don't understand," he hissed. "They don't need to silence all of us. Just you. The spark of rebellion dies when its bearer is crushed."

"If I fail, then I'll make sure this spark is passed on," he said quietly. "They can't stop the truth."

Terminus stared at him for a long klik, looking concerned. Finally, he let go of D-16's shoulders and leaned back, rubbing a servo over his faceplate. "You're going to get yourself killed, newspark," he muttered.

"Maybe," the miner said, sounding calmer than he actually felt. "But someone has to start this fight."

D-16's frame thrummed with battle, filled with energy and feeding the darkness inside of him. Heat coursed through his systems, fans blowing hard as his spark pulsed like a thousand hammers against a wall, threatening to break free of his chassis.

The darkness inside him—always there, always whispering—screamed for release. He felt it clawing at the cage he kept it locked in, feeding on the energy coursing through him. For the first time in his miserable existence, D-16 felt... free. Free of the mines, of the function that defined him. And yet, this freedom came at a terrible cost.

Two voices battled for control of his neural net. One screamed for carnage, demanding he prove his strength. This is the way of the world. The weak perish so the strong may thrive. Kill him. Survive. It whispered its venomous poison into his audios. The other, softer and achingly familiar, sang its song of mercy and restraint. Everyone deserves a chance. Freedom is the right of all Cybertronians.

These voices nearly drowned out the roaring crowd.

Beneath him, the defeated gladiator trembled, his frame battered and leaking energon from a dozen wounds that he'd inflicted. A pained whimper escaped him—he didn't want to die. Blue optics met gold, and for a klik, the chaos of the arena faded. The miner's digits tightened around the handle of the axe, gazing into the gladiator's terrified optics.

His spark screamed at him to stop and to walk away—it wasn't too late.

"Please... don't do this," the mech begged, his voice barely audible over the roaring crowd. "I don't want to die."

Above, Vexon's booming voice cut through the chants of the crowd. "FINISH HIM!"

The crowd's chant shifted, rising in unison. "DEATH! DEATH! DEATH!"

D-16's gaze snapped back to his opponent. The mech below him wasn't just a gladiator. He was like him—a victim of this broken, brutal system. Someone shoved into the arena, forced to kill or be killed.

For a klik, the miner saw himself reflected in those optics—a prisoner in his own frame, shackled by the chains of the Functionist tyranny. "I'm sorry, my friend," D-16 whispered, knowing that the mech wouldn't hear him. "Neither do I."

The axe descended.

The blade struck, breaking through the mech's spark chamber with a sickening crack. Energon sprayed upward in a gruesome arc, splattering across D-16's frame in vivid streaks of blue. The mech beneath him stiffened, then went still, optics flickering once before dimming into darkness. Forever.

The crowd erupted into deafening cheers, chanting his name, proclaiming him the victor. But the sound was distant, muffled by the silence that roared in his audials. The soft, angelic voice that had caressed his audial receptors with its whispers, that had curled its light around his spark was gone, its melody silenced by the act he had just committed.

He stood frozen, staring in disbelief at the axe still embedded in the lifeless frame of his opponent. His entire frame trembled, not from exhaustion, but from the cold realization of what he had done. He had just extinguished a spark. He looked down at his servos, slick with the energon of the mech he had called "friend," and felt the dark part of his spark swell with a terrible, consuming satisfaction.

For the first time, he felt free—but it was a freedom drenched in horror and guilt.

Vexon's voice thundered again. "BEHOLD YOUR CHAMPION!"

TIL ALL ARE ONE! TIL ALL ARE ONE! TILL ALL ARE ONE!

It was a phrase he would grow to hate. The dark voice in his spark purred with approval, reveling in the chants of the crowd, while the light remained silent, as though mourning the deed he had just committed.

This solar cycle was the solar cycle that the miner died, and the gladiator broke free of its prison.

The world felt like it had slowed to a crawl. His servos trembled as they held the smaller mech close, energon staining his servos and pooling beneath them.

"No, no, no, no," D-16 whispered frantically. His blue optics darted across Terminus's battered frame, not wanting to believe what he was seeing. His mentor's once-strong frame was mangled, covered deep gouges that marred his armor, his chassis caved in, and energon seeped from gashes that ran far too deep.

Terminus's optics flickered weakly. Ragged, stuttering vents escaped his frame as he slowly lifted a trembling servo and placed it against D-16's spark chamber, digits brushing over the plating.

"You... stubborn... fool," the mech rasped.

"Stop talking," D-16 choked out, his servos tightening around Terminus as if holding him closer could somehow keep him there. "You're going to be fine. I'll find someone—anyone—Hook can fix you—"

"Listen," his friend interrupted, optics locking onto the miner's. The intensity in that gaze, even as it dimmed, silenced the younger mech. "You... have to carry on. This... doesn't stop with me." His servo pressed a little harder against D-16's chassis, as though he were trying to push the words directly into his spark. "You... promised. Remember?"

D-16's optics burned as lubricant welled up, blurring his vision. He remembered. The quiet conversations during their breaks. The whispered dreams of freedom and change. The plans they'd sketched out on stolen datapads, hidden away from prying optics. The fire in Terminus's spark that had ignited his own.

"You can't leave me," the miner pleaded, voice breaking. "I can't do this without you."

A faint smile curved Terminus' derma. "You've always... been stronger than you think," he murmured. "Stronger than... any of us. You don't... need me to tell you that."

D-16 shook his helm, a sob tearing from his vocalizer. "You're wrong," he growled, tightening his grip. "You're wrong!"

His optics dimming further. "No," he whispered. "I'm not. You'll... change the world, D-16. You'll make... them pay. For all of us."

Terminus's servo slid from his spark chamber, falling limp at his side. His optics dimmed completely, the faint glow extinguished like a dying star. His vents stopped, systems powering down with a low hum. His frame went silent in D-16's arms.

For a klik, there was nothing. The world around D-16 felt hollow, like it had collapsed inward, leaving him alone in an endless void. He stared at Terminus' lifeless frame, optics wide and unblinking, as if sheer willpower could bring him back.

If only he had gotten here faster, he could've saved his friend. But how could he have known what was going to happen? A cave in by weak structural integrity, destroying a good portion of the newly dug out tunnels in Nova Point.

But it wasn't his fault.

It was theirs.

The taskmasters has assigned Terminus to tunnel, knowing that it was not stable. It was a punishment for speaking against them, for saving another bot from their wrath. They killed Terminus, not him. It was their fault.

"NO!" The roar that tore from D-16's vocalizer surprised him, echoing through the empty cavern. He slammed a fist into the ground beside him, cracking the stone. "No, no, no!"

The rage came next, surging through him like molten fire. It clawed at his spark, feeding the dark part of him that he had fought so hard to keep contained. But this time, he didn't fight it. He let it burn, let it consume him, because the pain was too much to bear on its own.

He laid Terminus's frame down gently and rose to his pedes, trying to fight the force of the storm building within him.

The Functionists. The Senate. The overseers who had created this nightmare of a world. They had taken everything from him—his freedom, his frame, and now the one bot who had ever believed in him.

They would pay.

For Terminus, for himself, and for every bot crushed beneath their tyranny.

They would all burn.

This chapter definitely a favorite of mine. For the scene where D-16 kills for the first time, I was inspired by another author's fanfiction (I can't think of the name right now, unfortunately) that gave some insight into how Megatron became well, Megatron, and Optimus, Optimus.

It's probably one of the few fanfictions that I've thoroughly enjoyed (and that's saying a lot). Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and I'll see ya in a few days. Let me know what you think of these types of "flashback" chapters. If you all like them, then maybe I'll do some for the other characters, such as Orion, C-14, Nightwing, or maybe even someone else...