Chapter Text
Remembrance of a Warlord
“WHAT IS THIS?!”
Lord Megatron thundered as he awoke to a strange impossible feeling in his chest and a motley crew gathered before him as he laid upon a funeral berth.
The colourful array of small bots turned to him, startled, optics wide with shock as they stared up at him as he rose from this… this gathering, funeral spark flowers at his pedes.
A shiver of horror trembled his spark and he jumped backwards, away from these strange bots and… were those organics?!
“Megatron!” An all too familiar voice cried and Megatron glanced over, his optics narrowing in fury as he gazed upon the face of his sworn enemy.
Of course he would be behind this farce! Knocking him out, capturing him and playing the fool. Mocking him with a funeral.
How dare he mock him. How dare he!
“OPTIMUS!!” Megatron roared, fury and disgust in his voice. He raised his cannon, backing away from the group of Autobot's, his optics fixed on Optimus who’s joyous face suddenly morphed into one of horror.
He did not care, he was surrounded by filthy Autobots. He needed to flee, escape. Whatever this humiliation was, he would no longer be part of it!
His scans and sensors told him of an active Spacebridge directly behind him.
Perfect.
He stepped backwards, barely registering the ruined and broken facade of the city of Praxis around him.
“Follow me and I will lay my vengeance upon you!” He declared as he moved backwards, fusion cannon held aloft and pointed at those who stood before him in shock and awe.
The Spacebridge opened and he turned, activating the bridge and quickly disappeared, glad to be away from his enemies.
Earth.
What a pitiful, pathetic world.
Of course the Spacebridge would lead to this puny, insignificant world. That was most probably Optimus’s design, curse him.
Lord Megatron snarled to himself, displeased. What a waste. What a dump!
He flinched as a lingering pain fluttered through his chassis making him shiver and his knees buckle. A phantom pain briefly flickered through him, taking the air out of his intakes and almost causing him to falter and collapse.
He grit his teeth and refused, glancing back at the huge pink glowing Spacebridge behind him.
The Autobots would be close behind. He had warned them not to follow him but knew Optimus and he knew that the Prime would never allow him to get far.
Lord Megatron clenched his servos into fists and scanned the surroundings.
There were no Decepticons nearby and attempting contact with them only brought radio silence.
Where was Soundwave? Where was Shockwave? Where was that pathetic excuse of a second?
He couldn't even get a hold of one of his soldiers like Blitzwing or Astrotrain. Instead he was met with radio silence.
A snarl escaped his lips.
What was happening?
He opened his internal maps, finding surprising details of this place he had no memory of. Some rural town on this Primus forsaken place with little to no resources nor significance to his grand schemes. Yet, he had files and terabytes of data on this place.
Had the Autobots messed with his processor and files? What had happened to him?
A large Decepticon insignia was scrawled across a large mountain to the far west of a small human settlement labeled, ‘Witwicky.’ Finally something helpful.
Megatorn gave a grunt and stepped forward moving to transform into his alt mode but almost stumbled and lost his footing when his plating and internal components moved in an unfamiliar way. He staggered, forcing the urge to purge his tanks down.
…Where— where was his Cybertronian alt-mode?!
”What have you done to me, Prime?!” Lord Megatron roared, his voice echoing across the green hills of this organic hellscape. “You will pay for this!!!”
Behind him the Spacebridge shuddered and roared, indicating someone quickly approaching him.
He gave the swirling pink Spacebridge a snarl before turning back to and striding forward, his plating and internal components shifting and transforming into an unfamiliar mode almost sending him plummeting off of the Spacebridge tower he was on.
He held his form and a warped twisted ‘Earth’ form of his previous Cybertronian mode soared, weaker and clunkier than his previous form.
He held back a roar of anger and pushed forward, turbines spinning and wailing uncomfortably, so unnatural compared to his true, magnificent form.
Optimus Prime would pay dearly for this insult.