The solar cycle for the rally had arrived.
In the Kaon arena, gladiators, miners, workers, and bots of various castes had come, united by a common cause: a hunger for change.
The final details of his plan were to be executed during his speech. His Decepticons would strike key locations—the Sonic Canyons, where the Matrix of Leadership was likely to be, Altihex Casino to capture Sentinel, and Blaster City, along with Polyhex.
This rally was the awakening of Cybertron. There were high stakes. Megatronus knew what was at stake. His followers knew what stake.
But Orion Pax did not.
The archivist was in Iacon, hardly recovered from his accident because of that scum, determined to help. The past couple of solar cycles had been used, helping his Orion to walk again. His legs, curse that traitorous piece of scrap, were weakened and needed more time to recover.
Against the medic's wishes, the little librarian insisted that he return to his work, giving the excuse that his job didn't require any physical work. Now, he was in the Grid, ensuring that the Champion's speech would reach every corner of Cybertron.
And though he didn't yet know of the darker actions taken to ensure this solar cycle's success, his faith in Megatronus burned bright.
The commlink crackled to life.
"Are you ready, Orion?"
There was no hesitation. |"I am, Megatronus. The Grid is yours."|
Megatronus nodded, though his brother could not see it. He straightened himself, rolled his shoulders, and stepped through the doors into the arena. The sight that greeted him stole his spark. Once a bloodthirsty crowed sat in those seats, cheering for the gladiatorial violence. Now, there stood a sea of Cybertronians from every walk of life.
Miners in dented and scratched, workers with drinks in their hands and some having their tools, and even some Seekers who had dared to descend from their lofty stations.
All optics turned to him. The arena went deathly silent. Something dropped on the floor, clattering loudly for a long, agonizing klik.
Megatronus patiently waited for it to stop and then raised his arms. "Brothers. Sisters. Today, we stand on the precipice of change."
The crowd watched in silence; a thousand brilliant optics fixed on the revolutionist.
"For vorns, we have been told where we belong. Assigned our places in the grand design by those who claim superiority. We have toiled in darkness while they bask in the light. We have built this world with our servos and our sparks, only to be cast aside as expendable. But no more."
A roar of agreement rippled through the crowd.
"I was forged in the pits, born into the same system that crushes so many of you under its weight. They told me I was nothing. Just another tool. But I refused to accept their lie. I rose from the arena not because they allowed it, but because I fought for it. And now I stand here, not as a gladiator, but as your brother. Your equal."
He paused, letting the words sink in. The crowd murmured, bots turning this way and that.
"They would have you believe we are divided. That we are different. But look around you!" Megatronus gestured to the crowd. "Miners, seekers, workers, warriors—all of you are here because you know the truth. We are not divided. We are one. One race, forged from the same metal, sparked by the same light. And together, we are unstoppable.
"They will call us rebels. They will try to break us. But we will not yield. This is our klik. Our revolution. And we will rise to claim the future that is rightfully ours."
He paused again, optics scanning the faceplates before him. It was almost time...
"Let this be the first step toward a new Cybertron. A world where no bot is forged into servitude. A world where every spark burns bright and free. Join me in freeing our planet from the claws of tyranny!"
The cheers became deafening. Fists were raised. Bots jumped and screamed at the top of their voice boxes. Others threw whatever they were holding in their air. EM fields filled with hope and belief, mingling into one electrostatic force.
They chanted his name, and something happened. The syllables blended together, the ending lost in the endless cycle of screams.
"MEGATRON! MEGATRON!"
Megatron, he thought. He found that he liked it much better than Megatronus, it was his own name, not one taken from a Prime. And it was only fitting for the occasion, seeing as Cybertron was going to be reborn. He might as well, too.
The Champion checked his internal chronometer, and knew the detonations would soon begin. The system would bleed. And from its ruins, he would build a new Cybertron.
Megatron was unable to stop the grin that spread across his faceplates as the first bomb went off.
Altihex Casino was disgustingly lavish. Although Starscream didn't mind having nice things, this casino was overboard. It was waste of shanix and energon, especially with how much it took to maintain in space.
It was a large space, stretching long and wide, only separated by golden-hued walls. Everything was made of the golden alloy Iacon was, except for the fact they somehow made it shinier. A fountain was at the center of the room. Gambling tables, lounges and workers were scattered around the room, filled with high-caste bots.
Many were here for the famous comedian Armorhide.
However, that was changed by the gladiator's speech, displayed on all screens of the lavish station. Most time, these screens were tuned to races or entertainment feeds, but not today. The usual loudness had dulled to a murmur, the bots glued to the broadcast.
Some were whispering to their companions, others stood still, watching with enraged or unreadable expressions. Starscream leaned against the bar counter, completely and utterly bored. His trinemates, Skywarp and Thundercracker, stood on either side of him, just as bored as he.
"Thoughts, Starscream?" came Thundercracker's smooth voice. The blue Seeker was leaning against a golden support column, intricately designed with one of the ancient Cybertronian languages, which was dead at this point.
Starscream turned to his trinemate with a slight smirk. "He's an idealist. A charismatic one, at that." His optics flicked back to the screen. "But one has to wonder... is it brilliance or recklessness?"
"Perhaps both," he replied evenly. "He knows his audience. He's appealing to their emotions. Anger, desperation, hope. Physics and chemistry, applied to the social fabric of Cybertron. But..." His optics flicked back to the trinemate leader. "The fallout could be catastrophic."
"Catastrophic for some, certainly. Opportunity for others." His optics drifted to the crowd, where murmurs were quickly turning into heated conversations. "Imagine the chaos. The distractions. The power vacuums that might form."
Skywarp snorted, leaning casually against the counter. "You mean, the chance for you to play kingmaker? Or is it Prime-maker this time?" He grinned, his tone mocking but not entirely unkind.
"Perhaps."
Thundercracker tilted his helm, crossing his arms. "You think this Megatronus is worth aligning with?"
"For now," the trine leader replied smoothly. "He's shifting the balance of power. When the dust settles, we'll see who emerges as the rightful leader. And I plan to ensure it's the one most deserving."
Skywarp cackled. "By which you mean yourself, right?" Obviously, the warper was not as dumb as Starscream thought.
"Don't be ridiculous, Skywarp." He shot him a pointed look. "I'm merely a humble Air Commander... for now."
The blue Seeker vented, glancing back at the screen. "So, what's the plan? We've got one mission: Sentinel Prime. Alive. Doesn't sound like there's much room for your schemes."
Starscream waved a dismissive servo. "We stick to the plan, Thundercracker. We are positioned perfectly. Whether the gladiator rises or falls, we will deliver Sentinel Prime to him. Alive, as agreed." Though it would be better if he were to be used as a bargaining chip, rather than a martyr like Starscream suspected Megatronus would turn the Prime into.
It was such a waste.
The purple Seeker rolled his optics and stretched, clearly uninterested. "Fine, fine. But do we have to guard Sentinel? The old mech's boring. Barely moves unless it's to give some long-winded speech about tradition or 'order.'" He made an exaggerated show of his boredom.
The trine leader turned to him with a sharp glare. "Yes, Skywarp, we guard him. Because if anything happens to him before Megatronus's forces arrive, we will bear the consequences. And I, for one, do not intend to jeopardize this arrangement."
Skywarp groaned. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say, commander." He leaned over the bar counter, waving the bartender for a drink. "Still, I hope something happens soon. I'm dying for a bit of action."
Thundercracker frowned. "This isn't about action, Skywarp. It's about—"
"Being smart. Blah, blah, blah," the idiot Seeker drawled, taking a swig of his energon cube. Starscream hoped that it wasn't engex, judging by the looks of the pink liquid, or Primus help him, he would have words with his brother for drinking on the job. "Whatever. You don't need to be smart to stick a blaster up—"
"You idiot." the trine seeker growled.
"I'm not an idiot!" The purple Seeker looked offended. "You're an idiot!"
"Says the idiot!"
The warper gasped, then scowled. "Take that back."
"No."
"Yes!"
"No."
"Yes!"
"No."
"Ye—"
Thundercrack slapped both of them. "Do you both mind? We have some serious business to attend to, and we don't need two squabbling sparklings." The blue Seeker gestured to Sentinel Zeta Prime, who was moving up a stage to the far end of the room.
Frag, they had strayed too far from his side. It was just a few kliks ago that he had been just a few pedes away from them. The Prime raised his servos and started to say that they should enjoy themselves rather than worry about a low caste. He presented Armorhide, who flashed onstage with a winning smile.
The large blue and gold accented mech made his way down the steps of the stage, to a spot reserved especially for him. The trinemates made their way to the Prime, resuming their posts "guarding" him. Within the first five kliks, Starscream quickly found that this was a new way to torture his brilliant mind.
"Did you hear about the senator who spent a whole megacycle calculating energon budgets?" Armorhide quipped, leaning forward as though sharing a secret. "Turns out, all they needed was another senator's energon rations!"
The crowd erupted into laughter, and Starscream forced himself to laugh alongside them when the Prime looked at him expectantly. Not because he found the joke amusing—he didn't—but because appearances were everything. Skywarp and Thundercracker flanked the Prime as well, unamused much like him.
The Prime sipped from his cube, appearing entirely at ease. Starscream resisted the urge to roll his optics. The Prime could enjoy the humor because he was far removed from the punchlines, a god in a gilded cage who believed himself untouchable.
'I fail to see why this is entertaining.' Starscream sent through their bond. It was a sacred, precious thing for each trinemates, allowing them to share thoughts, feelings, emotions. It was an excellent way of finding or communicating with one another, although annoying if Skywarp was unable to control his emotions.
Thundercracker's calm optics turned to his commander, amused at the comment. 'Better than the usual rubbish.'
Skywarp snorted in their neural nets, too loudly. 'I don't know. I think that scrap was growing on me. Like rust.'
"Are you three communicating?" Sentinel cut through their silent exchange, raising an optical ridge.
"Yes, my lord," Starscream said smoothly. He easily masked his irritation with the same politeness that had kept him in Sentinel's good graces all these vorns. It was one of the reasons that he ruled Vos today, much in part to the Prime.
"Well, whatever you're talking about can wait." Irritation spiked through the Prime's fields. "Focus on your job. I brought you here for a reason."
'Yeah, to bore us to death,' Skywarp said. 'It's all you're good at.'
"Of course, my lord," Thundercracker replied, offering a thin smile and ignored the warper.
Armorhide's next joke was cut short by a sudden, shuddering tremor that ran through the casino. The lights flickered, and the building seemed to groan under an unseen force. "What in Primus's name—" Sentinel began, his optics narrowing.
Then came the explosion.
The wall on the far side of the space station erupted in a violent burst of fire and debris. A blinding light filled the casino as the vacuum of space tore through the breach. Screams erupted as bots were pulled toward the gaping hole, their desperate cries drowned out by the deafening roar of decompressing air. A few unlucky mechs vanished into the void before the station's automated systems sealed the breach, thick panels slamming into place with a clang.
The situation quickly escalated. High caste Cybertronians stumbled over each other, some wailing in fear, others barking orders at guards who were just as panicked. Sentinel Prime shot to his pedes, whirling to his guards. "What is happening?!" he demanded, turning to the Seeker Trine.
Starscream didn't answer immediately. His optics were fixed on the viewport, where he could see forms of approaching objects. Decepticons.
The gladiator's plan had begun.
"Skywarp, Thundercracker," Starscream barked, his voice sharp and commanding. "Secure the Prime."
The blue Seeker moved to Sentinel's side immediately, and the warper gave Starscream a quick, mocking salute before following his brother's lead.
Fear rippled through the mech's fields. "We must get to the escape pods! Now!"
The trine leader bowed his helm. "Of course, my lord. Your safety is our highest priority." His words were smooth, reassuring, and entirely false.
Armorhide, still on stage, tried to rally the crowd. "Stay calm! Everyone, stay calm!" he shouted, though his voice trembled. "The station's safety systems are active; there's no need to panic!"
But they did not listen.
The Decepticons breached the casino doors kliks later. A team of heavily armed soldiers poured into the room, aiming their weapons at the panicked bots and firing. The leader, a mech with bold purple colors and crimson markings, holding an energon blade in his servo, pointed directly at the Prime.
"Sentinel Prime!" the leader snarled. "You're coming with us!"
Sentinel recoiled, his optics darting to Starscream. "Protect me!"
The trine leader nodded, noting that the mech was more cowardly than he remembered. "Of course, my lord. Skywarp, Thundercracker—engage!"
Skywarp grinned. "Finally, some action!" He vanished with a pop. Starscream knew that the idiot Seeker wouldn't last long with the way he inefficiently used his warpdrive.
This was the chance they had been waiting for: the opportunity to deliver Sentinel Prime to Megatronus and solidify his place in the rising power structure. All he had to do was ensure Sentinel believed he was being protected, right up until the klik he was handed over.
Starscream pointed his null rays at the offenders, making sure they were set to stun and firing a volley of shots that took down two advancing Decepticons. He turned to Sentinel. "This way, my lord. We'll take you to safety."
Sentinel, too panicked to notice the faint smirk on Starscream's lips, nodded and followed without question. The trine leader led the way, firing precise, deliberate shots at the Decepticons in pursuit. Each blast was aimed just off-target to ensure the attackers stayed close enough to maintain the illusion of a genuine firefight. He couldn't have them actually retreating.
Behind him, Thundercracker cracked fired superheated energon adjusted to a lower caliber that stunned their attackers. The calm seeker's faceplates betrayed no hint of his thoughts, although their bond said otherwise. Skywarp, on the other hand, cackled as he lobbed a grenade behind them.
'Idiot! You're not supposed to kill them!' Starscream chided the mech in his neural net, projecting his irritation through the bond.
'You're no fun,' the warper whined. 'You ruin everything. Killing them is so much more fun.'
'Perhaps, but they are our allies,' Starscream reminded him, adding a private mental note, for now.
'You should listen to him. He has many ideas, and this is one of his few good ones,' Thundercracker drawled.
The trine leader scowled at the scientist.
"This is almost too easy!" Skywarp said in the 'real world' as his brother referred to it. "Hey, Starscream, do you think these clankers are really trying to catch us?"
Starscream didn't respond. "Focus, Skywarp. Protect the Prime." The words dripped with as much disdain as he dared let slip.
The group skidded to a halt as another team of Decepticons burst through a side corridor, cutting off their path. Derma curled into a snarl and the 'Con attacked them, swiping with dangerous claws.
"Get behind me, my lord!" Thundercracker said, stepping in front of the Prime. His cannon let loose a focused blast that sent the attacker reeling but left him conscious. Thundercracker could have finished the job in an instant, but like Starscream, he was playing a careful game.
The assailant recovered quickly and charged again, this time swinging his claws directly at Sentinel. Instead of attempting to defend himself, the Prime let out a sharp cry and ducked behind Skywarp, who teleported out of reach just as the claws swiped through the air. Sentinel stumbled away, just out of reach, falling on his aft as Skywarp reappeared a few feet away, laughing.
"You almost let me die!" Sentinel snarled, optics blazing. "You're job is to protect me! I should have you fi—"
"I'm sorry, my lord," Thundercracker interrupted smoothly, glaring at the purple Seeker. "It won't happen again. Skywarp, help him up."
'Some Prime,' the warper said through their bond, shaking his helm as he helped Sentinel back to his pedes, apologizing for his sparkling-like behavior.
It took all Starscream's willpower not to sneer at the sniveling mech that was supposedly a Prime. He was no leader. He was a coward, utterly unworthy of the title he bore. The trine leader's disgust threatened to boil over, but he forced it down, keeping his fields drawn tight. Now was not the time.
"Move!" Starscream barked, firing another volley at the Decepticons that appeared around the corner. The opponent's shots struck dangerously close to Sentinel this time, and the Prime flinched, stumbling backward in a panic.
After 'taking care' of the 'Cons, they reached the corridor leading to the escape pods, the golden-hued metal walls streaked with scorched marks from stray blasts. Starscream could hear the shouts of combatants nearby, and he knew the Decepticons were everywhere now.
"We must escape!" Sentinel gasped, peering back at another Decepticon that was shot down. "Starscream, ensure I reach the escape pods at once!"
Starscream turned his helm just enough to meet the Prime's optics, offering a thin smile. "Of course, my Prime. Your safety is paramount."
Behind him, Thundercracker exchanged a glance with Skywarp, who rolled his optics dramatically.
Another Decepticon lunged from a side hallway, straight at the Prime. Sentinel Zeta immediately shifted his servo into a blaster and fired at the smaller bot, blasting a hole straight through his spark. Starscream didn't understand why he was so terrified if he had such powerful weaponry.
Something was up with him.
The trine eventually reached the escape pods, and Starscream immediately slammed a fist on the console, opening the hatch for the pod. "After you, Prime."
Sentinel didn't hesitate, scrambling into the pod as Skywarp bit back a laugh, while Thundercracker merely shook his helm. Starscream followed Sentinel into the pod, glancing at his trinemates with a nod. The blue and purple Seekers took positions on either side of the hatch, and Thundercracker activated the launch sequence.
The hatch sealed shut with a hiss, and the trine leader grinned, aiming his null ray at the Prime who looked at him in shock. "What are you doing?"
"It'stime to say hello to Megatronus."
Orion Pax listened to the words of Megatronus speech, feeling his spark swell. This was everything they had worked for—everything they had dreamed of. Until the bombings happened.
Altihex was first, then the Sonic Canyons, Darkmount, Polyhex, and Blaster City. Soon, the Grid was filled with chatter. Voices overlapped with sone another, growing louder and more frantic with each klik that passed. High castes and middle castes were screaming into their private channels.
"What is happening in Altihex?"
"Explosions in the Sonic Canyons! Is it an attack?"
"Who is behind this madness?"
Some voices were demanding answers, while others hurled blame. Fear and anger bled into their words, and accusations quickly began to fly.
"This rally... it's connected to this!" one Iaconian shouted.
"Megatronus! He's behind this chaos!" another voice growled.
"Low castes," someone sneered. "Always resorting to violence."
His spark twisted his chassis as the accusations poured in. They were already blaming Megatronus, who had nothing to do with this. The Decepticons were behind this! They were the ones ruining everything!
"These miners, these workers—they're trying to disrupt the peace."
"Uneducated brutes, the lot of them!"
"Megatronus and his kind don't want freedom. They want anarchy!"
The archivist's servos curled into fists as he leaned closer to the console. He had always known how the higher castes viewed bots like Megatronus, and it made him angry. He tried counting to ten and it was working until one bot said this:
"Who even gave them the right to speak? They're nothing but tools. Tools should be silent until commanded otherwise."
Before he could stop himself, he activated his comm. "ENOUGH!"
The Grid went silent. Every channel stilled, every voice hushed as the force of his shout echoed across the network. For a nano-klik, he hesitated and rethought his decision. However, his intake moved faster than his processor.
"This is Orion Pax," he said "An archivist from Iacon. A lower caste, for those of you who seem so eager to remind us of where we come from. You sit in your high towers, behind gilded walls, and you dare to judge us? You dare to call us brutes and anarchists because we dare to want a better future? How dare you."
The Grid remained silent.
"You call us tools? Then let me tell you something. It's these so-called tools that built your cities. It's these tools that mine the energon you consume without a second thought. It's these tools that fight your wars and clean your streets and keep Cybertron running while you look down on us from your ivory towers.
"And Megatronus—he has nothing to do with the bombings. He is here to speak and to give a voice to those of us who have been silenced for far too long. He is a leader, not a terrorist. Do not twist his message to fit your narrative!"
For a klik, the Grid was silent. But then, after a beat, the channels exploded again, this time with a new focus. Orion Pax.
"Who is this Erion Pix?"
"An archivist? A low caste dares to speak to us like this?"
"He's obviously in league with Megatronus. They're both terrorists!"
Orion leaned back in his chair, vents cycling hard to expel the heat that had built up. He stared at his console, anger fading into cold realization.
What did I just do?
The librarian had spoken without thinking, letting his emotions take control. He had revealed himself, not just as an archivist, but as someone deeply aligned with Megatronus' ideals. And he had meant every single word.
And now, he was a target.
He vented, realizing that he should've listened to Alpha Trion more.
Not even five kliks later, the door to his office at the Hall of Records burst open, slamming against the wall with a clang. Jazz stormed in, fields flaring and concerned. It took him everything not to flinch away from his friend's fields.
"Orion!" Jazz hissed, visor glowing unnaturally bright as he hurried across the room. "You gotta get outta here, now!"
Orion turned to him. "Wha-what are you talking about?"
Jazz grabbed his shoulder, shaking him lightly. "The enforcers, mech! They're comin' for you! You blew your cover. Everybot knows you're with Megatronus now!"
His optics darted back to the terminal, where the Grid feed was still active. "Primus," the archivist whispered. "What have I done?"
The white, red and blue accented mech pulled him to his pedes. He nearly toppled over on his weakened legs if it weren't for Jazz holding him up. "You don't got time to freak out, buddy. They'll be here any klik now, and when they find you? It ain't gonna be a polite conversation."
"Where do we go? I-I can't stay here. I've made myself a target."
"We're headin' to Kaon. Your buddy Megatronus can protect you better than anyone else on this fraggin' planet." The cultural investigator didn't seem to be pleased by this, frowning ever so slightly.
"But..." Orion hesitated, and he looked at the ground. "This was reckless, Jazz. I shouldn't have—"
"Stop beatin' yourself up, mech. What's done is done. You're in this now, whether you like it or not. So let's move!"
The librarian nodded, deciding that he couldn't let his actions go to waste. If his outburst had exposed him, then so be it, he'd use the attention to further their cause. But first...
Orion wobbled over to the console, locking it down with the Master Archivist's password to render it virtually inaccessible to all, except for Alpha Trion (which he prayed wouldn't give them the code), to prevent the enforcers from destroying the loop he'd created.
In the distance, the sound of sirens drew close. Jazz's expression grew grim. "No time to pack. We're leavin' now."
The archivist glanced around his small, organized office. This had been his home for many, many stellar cycles. Sometimes he would fall into recharge here because he got so deep in his work. On those solar cycles, Ratchet would absolutely have his helm after he found out how recklessly he had been pushing himself. The medic was always on his case for working too hard.
If Orion wasn't careful, the medic would likely drag him to the medbay, tie him down to a berth, and sedate him until he got the rest he needed. It was something the old medic had threatened to do more than once, and he could be pretty terrifying.
The red and blue mech grabbed his datapad and placed it in his subspace, nodding at his friend. "Let's go," he said, trying to ignore the twisting in his spark. He probably would never work here again.
Jazz helped the archivist move around on his weak legs, moving him as quickly as he could without pushing him too hard. The cultural investigator blamed himself for his accident, that Orion knew, but it wasn't his fault. He tried his best.
Eventually, they managed to exit the building's backdoor and slipped into the bustling crowds of Iacon. The archivist, or rather, former archivist, glanced back at the Hall one last time. It felt like he was leaving a part of himself behind, a part that he could never return to.
"Stick close," Jazz whispered, pulling Orion's attention forward. "We're headin' for a transport hub. It'll be risky, but it's our best shot at gettin' outta here before they lock the city down."
Orion nodded as his friend supported him through the streets, heading toward the station that had the monorail transport that could take them to the rundown city where his brother was. Kaon awaited, and with it, the next chapter of their revolution. There was no turning back now.
WARNING: WALL OF WORDS
Here is the reason I updated so late:
A few days ago, I had a cousin and their family over and their brat of a teenager hated me. I was unaware of this at the time because I they acted so polite and friendly. Well, at the dinner table I mentioned that I loved to write and posted on sites (I have specifics) per their questioning, especially Star Wars and the brat after dinner, asked they could check out my stories. So I allowed it, logging into my computer. They asked if they could see my dogs after, and I agreed but I had to get them out first.
So I went outside to the "barn" (it is a shed that is reminiscent of a barn) and proceeded to take them out to their cage (a large one that is temporary until we can get fencing for the backyard) which took about 10-15 minutes, because I also needed to refill their water and give them their food for the evening. When I came back, the cousin was done and my computer was logged off. They complimented my writing and wanted to go pet the dogs.
I didn't think much of it and entertained the family for the rest of the evening until they left. When I logged in to post the next chapters of this story and The Awakening of Cybertron, I found that all of them were erased. Every single one. That's over 700k+ words and ideas and years of time. I immediately went to my sites and checked if my stories were still there, and much to my relief Project Chimera and The Awakening of Cybertron were still there. However, my other two were deleted on all sites. I don't know why they didn't erase my TF ones, but I am grateful nonetheless. I was able to copy those two again onto Word.
The original chapter was erased, however, I started to write again (because that's what I do when I am depressed to drown out everything else) and found that I liked this one much better than what I had before. The good news is that I managed to recover most of my stories, except for my two big 'childhood masterpieces', which meant a lot to me.
Don't worry, the brat that did this is being punished :)