Once, a long, long time ago, Megatron had a friend named Orion Pax. Brothers, they called each other. Their hopes and dreams for a free Cybertron were the same, or so they had started. Orion had considered Megatron his closest friend. Megatron had felt the same toward the librarian.

They spoke often of their political stands, more-so of their personal lives and the differences and commonalities between them. But often, when discussing philosophy with words of mouth, the simplest of looks would spark a light-hearted, unspoken conversation of seemingly meaningless things.

These were the conversations the ex-gladiator had cherished most. The conversations Megatron had secretly wished he could have again.

Now he stood atop the wreckage of a downed warship in the Badlands, deep frown etched on his face, remembering his last moments with the late Optimus Prime.

Megatron had expressed his desire to be tyrant king no more and in that final glance at the Autobot leader, Megatron had his last unspoken conversation...

You've changed?

Don't look so surprised, librarian. You saw this side of me long before the war started.

I had hoped to see it long after the end.

You will sacrifice yourself?

It is the only way, Megatron.

I will not forget, Optimus. Not again.

Farewell... Brother.

Megatron left that day. He knew not where he would go or if he would ever again find a place where he could belong. He avoided any contact with other Cybertronians, a nearly impossible task with the Well of Allsparks constantly spewing new life.

Only once had he returned to the Nemesis, for the sake of stopping the constant pinging at the back of his mind. After some digging he found Soundwave trapped in a pocket dimension in the control room. Apparently the spymaster had found a way to send his master a distress call.

Upon freeing the half starved TIC he gave Soundwave the choice of leaving the Nemesis, never to cause chaos for anyone ever again, or turning himself in to the Autobots for sentencing of his crimes.

Megatron left, undiscovered and unnoticed by the Autobots, with Soundwave at his heels.

Megatron told Soundwave to depart, but still he was followed. He tried to shake his long time follower, but could not. During one flight he transformed mid-air, fell to the ground and turned to look the slender mech in the face, optics burning in annoyance.

"Soundwave, the Decepticons are no more. You are no longer obligated to follow me."

Soundwave stared back at Megatron for several long seconds. "No longer obligated," he echoed back.

Megatron glared at him, half annoyed and half confused. He decided to very calmly walk away. When he glanced over his shoulder he saw that Soundwave still followed a few paces behind.

Megatron spun around to glare at the spy. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

"No longer obligated."

A pause. Soundwave stepped to Megatron's side, ready to follow. As a friend.

Megatron smiled. "Thank you, Soundwave."

After a few more days of aimless wandering, Megatron encouraged Soundwave to go and see the Well of Allsparks since he was obviously curious about it. Years of undying loyalty to Megatron meant persuasion was necessary to get the flier to go off on his own, but in the end, Megatron got his way.

He watched Soundwave disappear into the darkening sky and briefly wondered if he would ever see his—dare he say it?—friend again. Megatron shook the thought from his mind, transformed and flew fast and far.

Megatron...

Megaton strained to see through the heavy fog. Someone impossible was calling him.

Megatron...

"Optimus?"

Have you forgotten me already, my friend?

Megatron ran for the voice, but only found a heavier fog. It occurred to him that he had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there. It also occurred to him that the voice he heard was not actually audible. It was more of an echo in the depths of his mind.

"Have you come to haunt me, Prime?"

The voice laughed and Megatron couldn't help smiling. He remembered the laugh of his librarian friend and felt... at peace.

Cybertron is not yet free, my friend. There are still those who would see our beloved home destroyed.

"Why do you tell me these things?" It was as though living in a memory. The sudden desire to rise up and wage war, whether political or physical, in defense of freedom overwhelmed him.

Cybertron still needs a leader...

"I am not worthy, Optimus." Anger burned within his spark. "Because of me, our world is in ruin, our people divided, innocent lives destroyed, and you... You are lost to us."

Are you still so pompous that you must take all the credit? The voice laughed. Perhaps you truly are as naïve as you look.

Megatron laughed as he hadn't done since his days wandering the streets of Kaon with Orion Pax by his side. He felt something touch his shoulder, turned, and met the gaze of his long, lost friend. "I see the wit of Orion Pax has not been lost to you, Optimus. Not even in your passing."

"Are Orion and Optimus not one and the same, Megatron?"

Megatron smiled warmly at his friend. His brother. This was how they should have always been. Talking, laughing, jokingly insulting each other. How had he been so blind? Optimus was dead because he had been too prideful to admit his way of bringing about justification was flawed.

His smile faded. The Prime noticed.

"It was always meant to be this way, brother," Optimus began. "I can only hope that one day you will see that even in your darkest hour, there was hope. You brought about the circumstances that pushed a simple archivist to become a Prime. Even though you strayed from the path, you are still very much responsible for the abolition of the caste system and the dawning of Cyberton's new Golden Age. I only wish I could have seen this orchestration before..." His sentence trailed off as his attention seemed to be caught by something Megatron could not see.

The warlord longed to accept Optimus' words as true, but all he could see were the lives he crushed, the pain and destruction he had caused. The last unspoken conversation he and Optimus had had.

"Brother."

Megatron focused again on the echo of Optimus before him. He couldn't help smiling at the smirk that had seemed to make itself at home on the Prime's face.

"It would seem history has a way of repeating itself," he began, but was cut off by the gladiator's sudden burst of laughter. "Is something wrong?"

Megatron couldn't remember the last time he had felt so giddy. Seeing the ever serious Optimus Prime with the grin of a mischievous new build plastered across his facial plating had caused the vigorously bubbling spring of joy within him to overflow and overwhelm him to the point of idiocy.

He tried to gain control of his emotions, but one look at the Prime, who was now trying desperately not to laugh, and the two, war-hardened leaders became like Sparklings who had had a few too many energon treats.

Minutes passed and the laughter finally died down.

Megaton looked into Optimus optics, smiling contently. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

The Prime looked puzzled. "I..." Again he seemed to be focused on something just outside of Megatron's view. His face grew solemn. "Do you know that I have forgiven you?" he asked, focusing on his friend once more.

Megatron tensed. He wanted to look away.

"Megatron."

A pause. "How?" the gladiator whispered. "How could you forgive me?"

Optimus smiled. "I have. That's all that matters now."

Megatron returned the smile.

"Now, my friend, I haven't much time left. And there are many important things I wish to discuss with you." He paused to think. "Enemies will rise against Cybertron in the near future. There is one who will rise from the Well that will lead our brethren into battle once more. But without the Matrix of Leadership to bestow the wisdom of the ancients upon him, he will need someone to guide him down the right path."

The Prime waited for Megatron's response. When he received none, he continued. "I firmly believe that you would do well with this task, my friend. You lead me once. Though you did stray, you have found the path again. I ask that you become that which you were always meant to be and save Cybertron from the coming destruction."

Moments passed without sound or reaction. Finally, Megatron spoke. "You have more faith in me than I in myself." He looked away. "How will I know the Sparkling?"

"You will know." Optimus tilted his head. "Do not be so hard on yourself. There are plenty of others who, unfortunately, will take care of that for you."

Megatron nodded. "Is that it then?"

The Prime sighed. "For now," he answered sadly. "Learn from the past. This is a new world. A new beginning."

"I wish you could enjoy it with us."

Optimus placed a servo on Megatron's shoulder. He opened his mouth to speak, paused, closed it again.

The world began to fade.

"Good bye, Optimus," the ex-gladiator said, watching the Prime's bright blue optics wane to grey.

"Good bye, brother."

Megatron stood, listening to the sound of shuffling pedes outside. He placed a servo on the rusted wall of the dilapidated structure he was currently using for shelter. Surely Soundwave had not found him that easily.

The shuffling stopped and was abruptly followed by a clang. Megatron slowly stepped outside.

He was taken aback at the sight before him. Moving quickly, he carried the body back into the safety of his shelter, scanning the sky for threats as he did so.

He laid the beaten husk down on the slab he had been using as a berth and took in the sight.

Energon ran freely from the severed fuel lines. This mangled mech wouldn't survive much longer.

He placed a servo on the mech's open chest plate and attempted to pinch one of the fuel lines shut so as not to allow any more leaking.

"Soundwave." Megatron spoke quietly over the comm link. "See if you can find some medical supplies and come to my position at once."

A single ping let the warlord know he had been heard.

He looked back at the unconscious victim. Pangs of guilt stabbed at his spark.

The Seeker's armor had been savagely ripped from his body. Large gashes along his torso had exposed sensitive wiring, some of which had apparently been cut through. His left optic had been sliced open and both of his arms were crushed. But what really caught Megatron's attention, what caused him to shudder just slightly, were Starscream's wings. They simple weren't there anymore.

He had felt the jagged metal when he carried Starscream in, but only now did he realize what it was.

The claw marks on his body told Megatron what had happened. The Predacons had found the Seeker and taken their revenge. But ripping his wings from his body? Megatron had never allowed any of Starscream's punishments to go that far.

It had nothing to do with pain, embarrassment, humiliation. A Seekers wings were, well, they made him a Seeker. They were magnificent! So sensitive to even the slightest change in aerial vibrations. Megatron would admit it was a quality he envied. To have such a gift ripped from one's very back would not only be excruciatingly painful, but a fate worse than death.

Movement pulled Megatron from his thoughts. Starscream was waking.

"S-Sky..." His back arched and his mouth opened in a silent wail then his body went limp.

"Starscream." Megatron said perhaps a bit too harshly. "Starscream, stay awake."

The Seeker's optics flickered twice before shuttering off.

"Soundwave," the gladiator's voice rumbled angrily. "Forget the supplies. Get me a medic!"