Title: Tyrant
Author: dreamerchaos
Beta: None
Warning: Slash, possible gore, and AU. Anyone who knows me, also knows of my rabid fondness for AUs. Mature, and will rate up to MATURE. Be Warned.
Pairing: MegatronxOptronix. Also non-con pairings
Disclaimer: Transformers is owned and copyrighted by Hasbro and others beside myself. I'm only playing with the boys and girls.
I've recently been fascinated by the possibility of Megatron and Optimus having met before Optimus (or Optronix) became a Prime, and how that would have affected the war on Cybertron.
My basic knowledge about Transformers and terms for certain anatomy stems from a wide array of fanfiction. I approach this fic after reading the IDW graphic novel Megatron: Origin. Any mistakes are mine entirely.

CHAPTER SIX

Stepping into the Stadium and overlooking the Pit's dark maw, made dermal plates crawl. Optronix knows better than to falter his pace; peripheral sensors twinge, indicating at the presence of a hand hovering over the surface of his lower back.

"This way," Megatron instructs, leading them to the same seat arrangements and platform. Once more, the viewing platforms already filled to full capacity. The mechs all look down towards the Pit floor in eager anticipation.

Optronix is not surprised to see Red Alert and the three Seekers already seated. Starscream appears calm and relaxed, arm encompassing Red Alert's shoulders, tucking the uncomfortable mech close against leg and gold cockpit. He notices that Thundercracker and Skywarp are looking particularly sour, sitting on the red mech's opposite side, and the lack of the turquoise and red scientist.

What does astonish the red and blue mech was not Blaster's familiar form, but Shockwave and Soundwave also in attendance. Blaster delivers a tight wave in greeting, face split wide in relief at seeing the mech relatively unscathed save for the two insignias branded into the front red shoulder plates.

Megatron chuckles low at a private thought, taking his seat. "I'm surprised to see that you left the mech alone." He comments in Shockwave's direction. The yellow optic returns his gaze.

"Perceptor: Adequate Medical Experience. Sits And Keep Watch Over Charge, As Well As Monitors Prowl's Condition. Mech Designated As Jazz Is In Attendance As Well." Shockwave informs the leader.

Optronix's optics return towards the Seekers; that would explain the looks of Starscream's wingmates.

He is not completely startled this time when pulled down to join Megatron, fitting against the mech's side. Optics glimmer a daring glance in the Pit's direction. 'Again, and so soon?' Disgust expressed; unrestrained, dismayed that he would have to sit through another execution. "Another Autobot has already offered a challenge for freedom?" He asks.

It comes to his surprise when the Seekers emit low waves of laughter, and Red Alert's optics dim.

Blaster attempts to intercede. "Um...Optronix..."

"Quiet." Megatron does not need to cut the mech off. Soundwave speaks for him, grasping Blaster by the closest shoulder. "Do Not Interfere." The telepath warns, cautioning the mech over his transgression.

Optronix's face pulls tight, worry causing vents to rev. "What's going on?" He turns towards his seating partner, demanding an answer.

In answer, the Pit's floor gates begin to slide open, and the shadow of the platform starts its slow rise. "Watch," Megatron waves a hand down into the Pit. "And remember that every mech makes his or her own decision to fight, and are not forced into combat. Neither I, or any Decepticon here, can coerce them into doing so."

Impending doom settles an acid bomb deep within metal gut, cable network wrenching into a tight ball. "...no..." He whispers, worst fear rising from the cold depths of his CPU.

Red optics tilts in his direction. Megatron smiles darkly. "I promised not to lay a hand." He reminds the shocked, paralyzed mech.

A loud crash of metal locking into iron chambers signals that the platform stabilized properly set into the arena floor. The crowd roars, escalating chant hungering for blood and carnage.

He whips back, optics trained upon the petite mech standing tall in the center.

"Ariel!" Optronix cries.

The femme looks horrid, even from this distance. Her pale face is livid with dark painted grooves, and twisted dents. One of her antennas snapped off subsequent to the last time he had seen her, and was not visible anywhere near Ariel's vicinity, signifying that the violence had taken place elsewhere. Sparks snap from her left elbow joint, marking the limb as dislocated.

In addition, from between her slim legs...

Optronix's hand flies up to cover his mouth, muffling the horrified cry.

Her port was badly damaged. The latched gates' locks severed, one hanging limp, connection dead. Trembling lines of energon trickle from the depths, glossing inner thighs. The pain is agonizing, each struggling intake through her vents causing the femme to cringe in sharp pain.

"You let those beasts rape her." Optronix whispers.

"I let them?" Megatron affects hurt and horror. "I did no such thing. After all, I believe I spent the entire recharge cycle with you, my dear Optronix." He discredits his role in the femme's plight.

The leader's companion quivers in anger, hands clenching into fists, drawing beads of energon from his palms. "That doesn't exclude your role in giving her to their mercy."

"Looks fine to me," Starscream adds his input, red optics observing the femme in disinterest. "If she can stand and is eager for a fight, then she must be in excellent spirits."

The Seeker's optics quirk in approval at Optronix's low snarl, the newly designated Decepticon revealing a fresh ignition of burning flames through his optics, "You didn't help her any by personally delivering her as if she were no better than a shipped package."

"That little femme that you hold so highly and dear inside your Spark, was trying to lead an insurrection, and may have led to my wingmates and our charges suffering from the resulting confusion and skirmish." Starscream firmly meets him, ruby clashing against sapphire. "Why should I apologize for the threat that was extinguished, and my role in providing punishment for a terrorist?"

"Calm down, both of you," Megatron cleaves the argument before it festers further, not eager to possibly resort to physically separating the two mechs. "While you have been clucking at another like a pair of BrassHens, you've missed the challengers."

"What?!" Starscream squawks, twisting to face the Pit. "Who?! I'm always the first one in!"

Optronix turns, noticing the empty seats on his left. Blaster's optics meets his, and the red mech points a trembling hand in the Pit's direction. "Down there." He directs Optronix, voice shaky.

He faces the Pit with scarce amount of time to see not one, but two challengers hit the floor of the Pit, the arena's walls echoing the heavy pounding of metal feet marking their landing.

Shockwave and Soundwave land side by side, facing the slim femme.

The shriek of the crowd reaches the ceiling. Thundercracker and Skywarp nearly leap from their seats, adrenal glands pumping their systems. Two challengers! This was unprecedented outside the mass organized battles held inside the higher-stake Pits where it was normal for teams of mechs to face off in a death match.

Optronix throws himself at Megatron's mercy, hands pressing flat to the silver chest. "You can't sanction this!" He pleads. "This is an unfair fight! She's injured and doesn't stand a chance!" Fingers scrabble at the leader's chest, as if trying to dig up a single scrap of compassion for the weakened femme.

Red Alert, usually the last to speak, if not remaining completely silent, is the one who seeks to calm him down. "Optronix, you don't understand." He tries to be the voice of reason. "Those two have never before entered the Pit. And I don't think that they'll willingly step out."

"You think we're scary," Skywarp adds, grinning in devilish pleasure as Ariel takes a wary step back from the challengers, "Those two discovered that one mech dares to try to procure their charges. How do you think they'd act?" He looks pointedly in Blaster's direction. "Many mechs assume that those two possess little vigilance over the state of their projects, but find me other mechs more possessive than them..."

The Seeker trails off, implication sealed as Blaster shifts in embarrassment under the mech's scrutiny, living epitome of the methods either of the two Decepticons would employ for a personal undertaking. Blaster could not meet any of their gazes, needing no reminder of the GPS unit and...Other less scrupulous additions, courtesy of Soundwave, assurances that the red mech would never break away from the Decepticon's clutches.

Megatron scoffs at the drama. "The crowd grows rowdy." His words met with the howls of frustrated mechs, wanting the halted battle to proceed.

He raises his hand to motion the guards to display the weapons case, but before he can lift the appendage over his helm, Ariel's hand making a daring plunge towards her outside thigh, revealing a hidden compartment. A small blaster bursts from the sheath, and Ariel forgoes the pain, spins and crouches low, angling for a damaging shot into Shockwave's torso.

Shockwave knocks the laser blast away with the proper angle and directional force, blast releasing a sensor-splitting shriek across the metal skin, arching off his right forearm to scorch the Pit walls.

The crowd is in shambles, objections and catcalls ringing from the stands. "Cheat!" Mechs boo in acid-dripping derision.

"Show 'er, Shockwave!"

"Show that Autobot what a real mech can do!"

"Looks like I won't have to call for the proceeding." Megatron's face reveals a small amount of surprise by the femme's actions. She really had sealed her fate, then, with that blatant action.

"Proceed?" Soundwave asks his fellow Decepticon.

"Agreed." Shockwave responds.

Soundwave twists and aims the blue shoulder gattling gun atop his shoulder. One short blast effectively disables the femme's weapon, hitting the mark and knocking the disintegrating metal mass from a singed appendage. Ariel cries out in pain, clutching the damaged fingers to her chassis.

Optronix, stunned by her underhanded actions, jumps at the loud clang of the melted weapon hitting the Pit floor. Unarmed now, she would not last much longer. "Get out of there!" He shouts, trying to warn the femme, no matter how low or unscrupulous her prior conduct.

Shockwave raises the blaster mounted in place of his left hand, taking precise aim. Ariel dives to the side, attempting to avoid the barrel.

Soundwave is there to meet her, swinging a closed fist around, snapping into the delicate circuits running up the back of her helm.

She stumbles, tries to retain a standing position with her legs balanced offset, splayed akimbo. The electric feedback from the painful impact kilter the information directed through optical screen.

Megatron already anticipates it, and an arm entraps the seated mech before he bursts onto his feet. "You can't save her now." He forces Optronix to remain in his seat, struggles mute against the leader's more colossal strength.

Ariel's floundering noticed, and promptly, brutally exploited. Shockwave shoves the barrel of the blaster into the small seam behind a kneecap, firing the small discharge into the circuitry.

Struts buckle as support cables warp under the boiling heat, detonating blast cracking the ball of Ariel's kneecap into glass-shard pieces.

She drops to her knees, favoring the destroyed one, limb dead and dragging the slim body to the ground. Sensors die, destroyed by the blaster's fire round, or overtaxed by the excruciating data streams from damaged receptors.

"Primus..." Blaster cannot watch the cold efficiency and concentrated brutality, too much to bear. Shoulders hunker, a hand sliding over to protect optics from the horrible destruction occurring. This would not be an execution; the two mechs were taking their time, exacting torture as they deigned fit.

Red Alert cringes, the resonating peal of blaster fire eliciting too many fresh burning memories from the depths of his CPU. For the very first time, he is unresisting when pulled tight against Starscream's chest, tucking his face away, antennas focusing on the Spark chamber and working inner gears providing white noise from the terrible sounds.

Soundwave catches her by the arm, fingers wrapping around the elbow joint. The same arm and hand that once brandished the small weapon. "When Aiming A Weapon," He coldly criticized, fingers imbedding, beginning a slow twist. "Aim For The Spark."

There is nary a pop; Soundwave rips the forearm of the limb from the joint, dragging cables and wires spraying tenacious bouts black oil and spatters of bright energon.

A long pained wail escapes the femme, falling upon her shoulder, curling into a fetal position around the disassembled extremity.

Shockwave stifles her complaints, ramming a foot into her gut, blow sending the femme hurtling nearly half the length of the arena floor. The jolting impact and four painful rolls leave Ariel lying in a crumbled trembling heap.

Starscream's fingers drum over the back of Red Alert's shoulder tire, optics bright in attention, downloading the battle into his memory banks. The two Decepticons letting loose would be the topic of discussion for vorns, and he could not pass on rerunning that image in the future for his own amusement and scaring tactic for fresh recruits.

'Remember why we are Decepticons.' The video would depict two of their finest soldiers in action, a display of scythe-like beauty and calculated discord. 'Remember why we are feared, why we are strong; why our very name breeds terror. We bring down the rain of energon from our enemies, and deliver a dance of death upon the corpses falling beneath our feet.'

Skywarp and Thundercracker possess far simpler pleasures at the look on the challenger's facial plates when he or she finds themselves staring into the metal curtains falling over dying optics. It is a pity that Perceptor is not here, on watch duty, forced to miss the spectacle, but they are certain that if they ask 'nicely', Starscream would be willing to replay the video.

Soundwave catches Ariel's delicate angle, bodily lifting the femme and swinging to smash her cracked, sparking frame against the Pit wall. The hollow ring of impact causes several guards to stumble back, clutching their antennas.

Her remaining hand falls, slapping to the ground to catch her weight, and screams arise when coming in contact. Pain administered by Shockwave's blaster firing, directed to the floor, and forming a rolling smelting pool beneath the femme, liquefying the perimeter of the ground surrounding the femme's propped body.

The stadium crowd shouts as one, voices assailing audio receptors. Mechs cheer, hiss, and cringe during each cutting blow, pieces of the challenger hitting the floor, a shower of oil and lubricants following.

"Make them stop..." Optronix begs, leaning the entirety of his weight against the steel band encircling arms and waist. Tilting in the Pit's direction, CPU begging Ariel to get up, please, get up!

"You honestly expect that they would halt now?" Megatron chuckles, "I wouldn't put it past either to simply ignore my command and cite their gross negligence for being 'caught in the moment'." He laughs harder, amused by the incredulity of the two mechs actually refusing to follow his command.

The battle was only breems underway, but already Ariel, badly weakened and bleeding energon and darker oil, barely raises a fight as Shockwave and Soundwave use her as a projectile, thrown back and forth; swinging an arm, burying a fist, or employing any other method to hurl the femme back towards the other combatant.

'At this rate she will bleed out before they are anywhere finished,' Optronix's hands squeeze over the silver arm's surface, digging into the plate seams, 'By now her processors are experiencing neural shock and emergency firewall lockdown.'

One hard blow sends Ariel into a pirouette, legs tangling together, and she crumbles to the ground unmoving. A hacking cough wracks her frame, vibrant gout of energon bursting from between lip components to wet the metal floor tiles.

Optronix collapses internally, something deep inside shutting down, bleeding into pieces, and accompanying the femme's agony. His head drops, neck and jugular cables unable to provide satisfactory support. A part wants to wail, to surge, to scream in anger and denial. However, it comes too late. Far too late, to save the femme who housed such a precious cut of his Spark.

Shockwave nudges Ariel's hip with his foot, pushing to draw forth a visible response; her shoulders list minutely pushed only by the Decepticon's gesture.

"Resistance: Minor." Soundwave notes. "Femme Close To Deactivation."

"Agreed." Shockwave concurs. "Trivial to Continue This Fight Any Longer."

Shockwave presses his foot between the femme's shoulders, effortlessly shifting downward, pinning her slim body, supine amid a growing pool of violet. Both Decepticons turn, looking over their respective shoulder, meeting the narrow red optics of their leader. "Your Command?" They echo.

Megatron tilts his helm, pondering the mechs' inquiry in penetrating silence. He scrutinizes the soldiers standing in the Pit over the fallen competitor, weighing the worth of each pound of metal and energon staining the ground.

The crowd begins to chant. "KILL! KILL! KILL! KILL! KILL!" Arms rise in salute, forming a mobile forest of gleaming metal, clamors filling the seats and platforms. Megatron glances up, scanning the faces of trained soldiers and mingling domestic mechs.

The decision proves unanimous, his soldiers' fervor supplying all that was necessary.

"The crowd speaks." Megatron answers, hand rising above his head, arm and cannon forming a sword pointed towards the heavens.

Severing the air with a precise descending slice, Megatron's arm signals the fighters. "Finish it!"

Shockwave and Soundwave comply.

Shockwave raises his foot, shortly liberating the femme.

Soundwave lifts a fist, crouching above Ariel, leaning over her shoulder.

Ariel's optics flicker, sapphire blinking in pain and confusion.

'Offline your optics, Ariel,' Optronix begs. He pleads for Primus for mercy, not wanting the femme to watch death descending upon her. 'Please don't watch.'

The Decepticons' descend, ramming down and puncturing the broken challenger.

Shockwave's foot and ankle sinks into — Breaks through, impaling the femme — splitting Ariel's torso, severing through her back and bursting through the paneling of her lean stomach.

Soundwave's fist pierces between shoulder blades, splitting the seams, penetrating down to encircle vitals within her chassis. Blue fingers envelop Spark casing, twisting, and wrench.

Ripping through stubborn cables slipping to tangle around his wrist, Soundwave dislodges the dying remains of the Spark casing, the pulsing ball of the Spark's glowing light seeping through the seams of his fingers.

Ariel's optics dim, and then die. A long shuddering exhalation cuts through her vents, body falling slack.

Spills of fresh energon from failing internal components facilitates a smoother retreat, Soundwave tearing forearm and hand free, clasping the femme's Spark as it releases a final shuttering pulse of light before turning ink-black, oil dripping between his fingers.

Mechs scream, cries rose to howl from the depths of Hell, glorifying at the sight of the dead Spark casing, Soundwave holding it within a fist above his helm for the entire stadium to bear witness.

Optronix slumps forward, two arms the only support holding him off the floor; blue optics, now pitch black, and dully stare at the silver tiles, mirroring the cold blackness seeping into the depths of his Spark.

The dead Spark casing within the telepath's fist matches his own, Optronix feels his aching Spark die with hers.

Surging roars rising from the depths of his CPU, a leviathan stretching its maw open to swallow him whole. He falls into it, embracing the cold darkness reaching forward, pulling him into its depths, away from the sight of his dearest friend, his sweet lover, lying cold and silent.

"Now there is nothing left of her to hold you to your old life." He hears Megatron whisper into his audio receptors. "I am the only one who remains. I am the only one who remains here with you."

'The demon I know,' Optronix raises no argument, feeling nothing, not wanting to hear anything else. 'There is no escape from this fiery Pit.'

Optronix does not respond towards the soft brush of lip components, for the first time having nothing to defend. No lover to protect, no pride to defend.

Megatron had not lied. Now, he was the only thing that held a small piece of his Spark.

How Optronix yearns to damn the mech into the deepest Pit for possessing that precious fragment.

Rich blue fingers splay over the glass, capturing the bright beams of sunlight between his fingers.

It still felt incredibly odd, being here, once again, in this pristine, bustling city. His life had changed drastically in the last two vorns. The Constructicons and a small army of other Decepticons were steadily rebuilding the city, carving their mark and legacy into the walls and looming monuments depicting the Decepticon army's glory.

Iacon had fallen not long ago. Prime fell beneath the Decepticon leader, following his predecessor into ruin, the powerful Sentinel Prime.

To his surprise, Megatron first decided to rebuild Faon. Further to his surprise, Optronix finds himself reassigned as archivist in training at the city's Library.

Shockwave took the role as the red and blue mech's instructor, explaining Optronix's role to conserve the history of Cybertron before, during, and after the Decepticons' victory. Megatron held no desire to destroy the precious documents of Cybertron before the Decepticon insurrection, wanting the data to be preserved. It was the duty of the scholars, however, to begin their duty in recording the new, world order, and adding it into the vast archives.

Optronix, never forgetting the purple mech's role in the murder of his femme lover, treats the fellow Decepticon with a wide boundary between them, never straying too close. Anger and trepidation keep him firmly at bay, desiring little contact.

In the last vorn, after a great deal of effort and willpower, he can finally manage to stand to be in the same room with the mech.

For the most part, Optronix's surviving friends and colleagues are also reinstated, but remain under the scrutiny of their guardians, always watching to make certain that the mechs made no ventures to warn or join the last few Autobots who continued to struggle against the Decepticon army.

Optronix did not have many opportunities to see his friends, only recently catching sight of Perceptor, joined, remarkably, by Starscream, the two sharing the same academic history, both scientists working on projects that came under review every megacycle, awaiting Megatron's final approval or dismissal.

Soundwave was the main operator for the new Security division, Red Alert, Blaster, Prowl, and Jazz under his command. Optronix never determined how the telepath maintained control over the last two mechs, but he held his suspicions to himself.

Ratchet, possessing invaluable skills as a medic, holds a new assignment to a separate division known only to Megatron and Shockwave, keeping the previously designated Autobot separated from his companions. The mech had proven extremely resistant to Megatron's 'good will gesture'; the leader offering the mech a position in the Decepticon army after he'd come out of stasis, finally fully repaired.

The purple mech maintains control over the red and white medic by allowing Ratchet to repair Autobot prisoners grouped in the city's main prison ward, but only while the medic continues to remain subservient to Megatron's — if he wished for the captives to stay intact — command. If Ratchet ever tries to aid the remaining Autobots, then a prisoner will face execution for every betrayal.

'And why am I here?' Optronix asks, optics tracing the patterns in the glass between the cracks of splayed fingertips, 'Because I am coward who is too afraid to run and never look back. Because here, is the only mech, who has a hold of my Spark, even with the knowledge that he played a role in the death of someone I held with equal love in my Spark.'

Optronix catches a silver reflection in the glass wall in front of him overlooking the city. He's not surprised when two arms snake around his waist, pulling him back against a firm, wide chest. "You are deep in thought." Megatron shares his assessment of the smaller mech. Standing directly behind his partner, he takes a moment to scan the city. His city, "What currently possesses your CPU?"

Optronix sighs, not fighting the overpowering embrace. His arms slip from the glass wall, and lift to overlap silver. "Nothing of value," He explains. "Just... Skimming through my memory banks," There is a wistful note detected in his voice box.

His head turns, sensing the red optics penetrating, "Nothing? Is that all?" Megatron examines the mech's answer.

"You're examining my answer too deeply." Optronix adds his input. "Don't be bothered by it. I've only been feeling a bit nostalgic. That is what holds my CPU prisoner."

"Hmm." Megatron shifts at his back, a hand snaking up to slide over chest plates, overlaying across the humming surface protecting Optronix's Spark. "Hopefully it does not hold you so deep, that you are immune to my presence and attention." Lips run along neck cables, drawing an unhindered shudder from his partner.

Optronix grins wryly, completely aware that he would never be able to resist, let alone keep Megatron from his processors. "I don't think it is possible to ignore you." His words do the job of soothing his partner, coaxing the larger mech into a calmer state of mind.

Well, not so calm, then...Fingertips drum atop his chest, causing his Spark to pulse favorably, dermal plates tickled by the tracing black fingers. Megatron presses tighter against his back, drawing a low moan as the Decepticon leader's codpiece presses against Optronix's back.

Megatron was in need of attention from his partner. Optronix surrenders, letting the hands turn him, Megatron's fingers wrapping around his wrist, tugging the mech forward to join him at his side. "Come." His leader commands, demanding Optronix's presence and attentiveness.

"As you command," Optronix can do nothing else but follow, joining the mech, letting Megatron be his guide.

Cybertron's future beneath this tyrant's fist was sealed. Soon no Autobots would be able to hold him and his forces back. Only a few cities were managing to hold on, but their time was close, the Decepticons circling, sharks smelling blood in the water.

Perhaps his CPU is twisted or askew, damaged from watching the death of his femme lover. Perhaps he is not a mech meant to be strong, or be capable of resisting this mech.

Whatever it was, by damage or design, Optronix could only follow, letting the new leader of Cybertron...his leader, his lover, guide him, and guide to lead Cybertron into a new era.

The insignias upon his shoulder fronts would forever remain, reminding Optronix of his place and duty. Reminding all citizens of Cybertron about how a few mechs rose up from the dredges of their foulest cities, grew in number, and seized the planet for their own.

The past was gone and done, and Optronix could only move forward. In the past, he had lost so much.

Nevertheless, here, at his side, was the one mech who had stayed. The one who refused to release him.

Optronix dutifully follows his king, allowing the past to fade into the files of his memory banks, preparing the way for new memory files to take their place.

After all, the future lingers, and Optronix is yet another cog in the machine.

He has followed Megatron from the dark corridors of the city, witnessed glass walls bathed in fire, stared into the Pit, and through it all, he returns to the city where the sun continues to rise and grace him with its warmth and light. A single beam to light the path through the darkness.

Somehow, maybe, everything will turn out all right.

END