Thank you all for your reviews! Keep them coming! I love reading what y'all have to say about my story :D

(Keep favoriting and following too, that means a lot to me. It keeps me going as an author :)

mahatter: The advisor role was a cover to get C-14 out of trouble with the officers, though I might expound on it. Maybe allow C-14 to pretend that he is. Who knows? As for pairing C-14 and Nightwing, I will not say to avoid spoiling the story. Maybe they would be cute though.


Megatronus stood near the gate of the arena, leaning against the cool metal of the wall. His optics scanned the small crowd milling about the area, most of them being workers or gladiators preparing for their matches. He was waiting for one bot in particular—a bot who had dared to reach out to him, intrigued by his ideas and bold enough to challenge his thinking.

Then he saw him.

A smaller mech—red and blue—walked around distractedly, staring around at everything and clutching a datapad so tightly to his chassis it looked like it would snap in half. His optics darted nervously around the space. It was obvious that the mech didn't belong Kaon.

That has to be him, Megatronus thought.

Pushing off the wall, the gladiator strode forward, drawing the younger mech's attention with the sound of his heavy pedes. The smaller mech froze like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't.

"So you're the one who's been sending me all those messages," Megatronus said as a way of greeting. He planted his servos on his hipplates and grinned, studying the mech closely. "I was wondering when we'd finally meet."

Orion Pax's intake opened and close multiple times, until he finally managed to get some words out. "I—I mean, yes, I've been messaging you," he stammered out in a jumble of words. "You—you said I should. I mean, you didn't exactly say that, but you implied it, and your writings—well, they were so compelling, I couldn't—"

The gladiator raised a servo, cutting of the torrent of words with a short chuckle. He said, "Calm down, Orion Pax. You're not in trouble. I'm glad you reached out. Otherwise, we wouldn't be having this conversation now, would we?"

The mech nodded quickly. "Right, of course. I'm sorry, I just—" He caught himself, then straightened his posture slightly, though his death grip on the datapad didn't lessen. "It's an honor to finally meet you, Megatronus. Your work... your ideas... they've inspired me in ways I can't even begin to describe."

The larger mech tilted his helm slightly as he regarded Orion. "In that case, let me show you where it all started." He gestured toward the entrance of the arena. "Come on. I'll give you the grand tour."

"The arena?" His optics flicked from the Champion to the massive structure behind him.

"The arena," the gladiator confirmed, grin widening. "Don't worry, I'm not throwing you into a match. Unless you're up for it." He winked, which made Orion sputter slightly, much to his amusement.

Megatronus laughed, somehow managing to put Orion at ease. With a wave of his servo, the gladiator turned and began walking toward the entrance, motioning for the archivist to follow.

Megatronus gave him an entire tour of the arena, showing him the maintenance halls, the quarters of where contracted gladiators such as himself stayed, the medbay where Shockwave worked, the training pits and so much more. He talked the entire time, watching as Orion slowly warmed up and grew a bit more comfortable, adding in tidbits of his own words.

Finally, he finished with the stands where all gladiators fought in front of the crowd. "This," he said, spreading his arms wide, "is where I became who I am."

The gladiator could still hear the cheers of the crowd chanting his name, even though they were not there at the klik. He could still feel the adrenaline of the battle coursing through his fuel lines, the thrill of the fight, and the final kill. He had grown to appreciate life when it was there—it had been given a different meaning when he had to snuff its spark.

"This is the place where the weak are forced to fight for survival and where I learned what it meant to be strong." He glanced back at Orion. "But strength isn't just about fighting. It's about standing for what you believe in, no matter the odds."

The librarian hesitated, then nodded. "That's why I wanted to meet you," he said softly. "Your words gave me hope, but they also challenged me. They made me question everything I thought I knew about Cybertron, about the Senate, about the Primes." He looked down at his datapad, then back up at Megatronus with optics filled with a fiery determination that he would grow to love. "I want to learn. I want to help."


The Hall of Records was a place Megatronus never imagined himself visiting, let along sneaking into. The vast archive of Cybertronian history surrounded him, yet he was in a room with Orion Pax, who was by a terminal, gesturing animatedly as he scrolled through data.

The archivist's normally reserved demeanor had fallen away, replaced by an unrestrained enthusiasm as he spoke about one his favorite topics: Cybertron's forgotten history.

"...and of the factors above that served as a basis for our present society," Orion said, his voice growing more passionate with every word, "this one generally remains unknown to the public. "It's fascinating, isn't it? So much of our past has been buried or distorted, yet it still shapes everything about who we are today."

Megatronus leaned against the edge of a console, arms crossed over his broad chassis, a small smile tugging at his intake. Orion had always been passionate to a degree but seeing him like this—so utterly absorbed in something he loved—was a rare sight. It was refreshing.

The Champion found himself chuckling softly, shaking his helm. "You're quite something, Orion Pax."

Orion looked at him oddly. "What do you mean?"

The gladiator found himself chuckling softly, shaking his helm. "You're like a completely different mech when you talk about this stuff," he remarked. "Usually, you're so composed. But when it's about history..." He trailed off, gesturing toward Orion with one servo. "You can't stop talking."

Orion froze, looking at Megatronus with a sheepish expression. "Am I rambling?" he asked, his voice quieter now. "I didn't mean to—"

"Don't apologize," Megatronus interrupted, grinning. "It's a good thing. Most mechs don't have half the spark you do. They'd look at these records and shrug, saying it's just old data. But you... you see a future in it. You don't just want to learn about the past—you want to use it to change the present. It shows you care." He pushed off the console and stepped closer, glancing at the data Orion had been poring over. "So, what's this about the 'unknown factor'? Think I'd understand it?"

Orion blinked, caught off guard by the interest in Megatronus's tone. "Well... yes, I think you would," he said after a klik. He gestured to the terminal. "Would you like to take a look?"

"Sure," Megatronus replied, stepping up beside him. His large frame practically enveloped with smaller mech, but the archivist didn't seem to notice. Orion tapped a few keys, bringing up a new display filled with text, diagrams, and holographic reconstructions of structures that looked foreign to him.

"Oh, and there's this document." He pointed to a page of data. "It veers a bit off topic, but it's fascinating. I think you'd find it interesting."

"You're like a turbofox chasing a dozen leads at once," he teased, stepping closer to peer at the display.

"This," Orion began, pointing to an image of a towering spire, "goes back to the Age of the Primes, built by the original Thirteen, or at least what we think. The glyphs found on its walls suggest that—"

Megatronus smiled, enjoying listening to his friend's melodic voice. Perhaps the library wasn't all that bad, especially if it meant watching his friend come to life.


Megatronus paced in his quarters. He rarely felt this... unsettled. This wasn't like preparing for battle or addressing a crowd; this was deeply personal. He rubbed the back of his neck, sharp digits brushing over the seams of his sensitive cables. The idea had been circling his processor for cycles, but now, as the klik loomed, he felt a rare klik of nervousness.

What if Orion said no?

What if—

The sound of light pedes reached his audials before the door to his quarters slid open. Orion Pax stepped inside, his datapad tucked under one arm. The archivist looked around the room briefly before his bright optics settled on Megatronus. "You called for me?" he asked, tilting his helm slightly.

"I did," Megatronus replied, stopping his pacing to face the smaller mech. He ex-vented, dispelling the heat that had built up, steadying himself. "There's... something I want to ask you."

Orion blinked, setting his datapad aside. "What is it, Megatronus? You seemed troubled."

The Champion let out a low chuckle, shaking his helm. "Troubled isn't the word for it, little librarian. It's something different." He hesitated, then turned to face Orion fully. "I've been thinking about this for quite some time, and I wanted to ask you... How would you feel about being my Amica Endura?"

His friend froze for a klik, optics widening in surprise. "Amica Endura?" he repeated, studying the larger mech's expression. "You're serious?"

Megatronus nodded. "I've given it a lot of thought." He took a step closer to the archivist. "You're passionate. Caring. You have a good spark, full of fire and righteousness. You make me believe that there's hope, even in a world as broken as ours. You see things in ways I never could, and you remind me of what we're fighting for. I want you to be my partner in this. My equal."

Orion's optics searched Megatronus's faceplate, his own expression unreadable at first. Slowly, a small, shy smile curved his derma. The gladiator's spark sang with joy, seeing the look that he cherished and adored. "Megatronus... I don't know what to say. I'm honored. Truly. But..." He hesitated, glancing down at the floor. "Are you sure? I'm not a warrior like you. I'm just an archivist. I'm not sure I deserve—"

"Don't," the Champion interrupted firmly. He placed a clawed servo on the smaller mech's shoulder. "Don't ever say that. You've stood by me when no one else would. You've challenged me to think differently, to be better."

Orion was silent for a klik, processing the gladiator's words. Then, another small smile tugged at his derma. "You're a lot more sentimental than you let on," he teased.

Megatronus smirked faintly. "Don't make me regret this."

The librarian's expression turned serious. "I'd... I'd be honored, Megatronus. You've shown me so much—strength, courage, and conviction. But more than that, you've been my friend. You've believed in me when I doubted myself. I'd be proud to be your Amica Endura."

The gladiator's frame visibly relaxed at Orion's response. "Then let's make it official."

Standing opposite of each other, Megatronus opened the plating over his spark, watching as the plating slid away to reveal a bright blue spark, energy swirling around it, humming softly. Orion followed suit, revealing a similar bright, electric-blue spark.

"Orion Pax, I bare my spark to you. Receive its light and feel its heat so that you might know my words to be true. I choose you as my Amica Endura because you are guiding light and anchor. You see a path where others see only destruction. You remind me of the potential for something better. I value you more than words can express."

"Megatronus, I bare my spark to you. Receive my light and feel its heat so you know my words to be true. I choose you as my Amica Endura because you've shown me strength I could never have imagined. You fight for what you believe in, even when it's hard. You inspire me, Megatronus, to stand for something greater. I trust you with my spark and I value your strength and unwavering determination in these darkening times."

The klik Orion finished, threads of energy began to extend from each of their sparks, blue tendrils of energy intertwining in the space between them. The energy swirled, connecting their sparks briefly, allowing a shard of each of their spark to reside inside of the other's spark chamber.

For a nano-klik, neither of them spoke, both of them allowing their protective plating to slid up and obscure their sparks from view. Megatronus looked at Orion and smiled faintly. "You're stuck with me now, little archivist," he said simply.

Orion smiled back. "So are you."


Megatronus sat alone in his quarters, staring blankly at the wall, processor flooded with memory files from over a stellar cycle ago. His servo rested over his spark chamber, where he could feel Orion's spark shard resting, pulsing softly.

He didn't understand why his thoughts kept drifting to the past, to the kliks when he was simply a miner, then a gladiator, and finally a revolutionary. The memory files of his friend were the clearest.

He saw bright optics filled with hope as his Orion passionately explained the details of Cybertronian history. He remembered their first meeting and his brother's nervous energy that had gradually dissolved into an animated conversation.

Why was he thinking of all this now? His neural net kept pulling him back into the past, making him relive kliks he thought he'd buried. He growled softly, trying to shove the thoughts away. He had work to focus on—strategies to plan, speeches to refine, and movements to lead. Yet, the persistent feeling wouldn't leave.

What was it?

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he pressed a servo to his helm. Was it because he had axons about the upcoming rally? No, Megatronus rarely felt nervous—he had stood before countless crowds, faced overwhelming odds, and bled for his cause. This was... different.

It felt like the world was shifting under his pedes, and he couldn't steady himself. Something was going to change. He couldn't shake the feeling. The Champion knew that change was coming, but he had a terrible feeling it wasn't the kind he imagined.

The gladiator shook his helm and pushed the thoughts aside. Dwelling on such feelings wouldn't help him now. The rally was only a few cycles away, and he had unfinished work. His gaze drifted to the datapad on the desk, containing the speech he had been refining for the past two solar cycles. It stared back at him boldly.

This rally was crucial—it was their klik to unite the discontented and rally Cybertron's oppressed to their cause. But even so, his processor refused to focus.

For a fleeting klik, he considered calling Orion. The archivist's voice had a way of soothing his axons and grounding him. But then he refused himself. No, he couldn't let his archivist see him like this. Grabbing the datapad, he started to read over them to check what needed to be changed.

Yet, as he read over the words, his thoughts wandered back to Orion. The mech was so full of light, compassion, and fire. Orion had always believed in him, trusted him, even when Megatronus himself wasn't sure he was worthy of that trust.

Was that what this feeling was? A longing for the simplicity of their friendship before the movement consumed his every waking klik? Or was it something more—an unspoken fear that this path they were on might change everything between them?

The gladiator's servo tightened around the datapad. He couldn't afford distractions, not now. Whatever this feeling was, it would have to wait. Their cause demanded his full attention, and he would not falter. But deep within his spark, he knew that something was coming. What that something was, however, remained shrouded in the shadows of his uncertain future.


And this concludes Megatronus's "House of Memories." I wanted to get Orion in and how Megatronus met the archivist (I did briefly mention this in Chapter 4). Personally, I thought the scene where they became Amica Endure was a bit corny, but that's just me. I didn't really enjoy writing that part, but it had to happen. I wanted to show the "ritual" of how they did it.

By the way, Amica Endura and Conjunx Endura are two separate things. Meaning "best friend" and "spouse" respectively. Much like the conjunx, I wanted amica to have a bond, though not as powerful and "spark binding." The bond, if severed doesn't have a high risk of killing the mech (unless they are really weak or something) but it does hurt. A lot. I believe I mentioned this earlier in another chapter in Soundwave's perspective.

I mean, how would you feel if a shard of you, your spark, died inside of another person and vice versa? That wouldn't feel very pleasant, I imagine. This will serve a purpose later in the story. I got the idea of the bond from the fic Shattered by Cyber Rogue, which is a story I found humorous and interesting to read.

But you all let me know what you think :)

Hope you enjoyed! Next chapter will be released in a few days.