Written on December 15th, 2011.

Note: Finally got around to posting this, I guess. What the hell are the standard Cybertronian time measures, anyway? I'm not a jargon person, it's way beyond me. I just liked the sound/image impact of solar cycles, so that's what I went with. Here goes nothing.

I undoubtedly have a thing for tragic (b)romances. Nothin' like a relationship gone wrong.

Optimus Prime is afraid.

He is afraid as his blade strikes through soft circuitry and afraid as he hurls his opponent to the ground, as battered and beaten as he is, if not more. He is afraid as his cannon trains itself on the spark chamber of his fallen enemy; afraid like it is his first unwilling encounter on the battlefield. For Optimus Prime, it matters not the enemy nor the situation—he is afraid because he knows that he must make the choice of life, between one or another. He knows that it must be this way, and yet he has never been able to reconcile reason with emotion. He understands the nature of sacrifice and the price of war, but he will never accept it. This is what makes him Optimus Prime: For all his stratagem and all his decorum, he is afraid.

Before him now lies his greatest enemy and greatest friend: Megatron. —No, it is Megatronus. It is Megatronus who is finally dying.

Because in the flickering optics of his opponent, he realises, is the truth of his past. Yes, he is the last of the great Primes, now a seasoned and respected leader, but still he is nothing more than a data-clerk. In the eyes of his defeated foe, he remains Orion Pax: A humbled serving bot who betrayed him by dancing at the whims of others, weakened by compromise and indecision.

But Megatronus is wrong.

Once upon a time, he was right, and that same humble librarian believed in him. Together in that belief they set forth a legacy that cannot be unwritten. But now, he is wrong, and Orion Pax is no longer. For he understands that the moment he emerged from the Well of All-Sparks, his actions set his destiny in motion and that that destiny is still his to write. It is his will, not the Council's, nor their system, nor even the will of Primus himself that determines the nature of his spark. It was his beloved Megatronus who taught him that, and he will not forget. He is a Prime of his own choosing; choosing to bear the weight of leadership not only for the benefit of others, but for himself as well.

In this moment he is Optimus Prime, and he is afraid. He is afraid of losing his a precious friend who once held him so dear—afraid of what he has done. And yet he understands: It must be so. He is afraid, so he takes the hand of his oldest comrade—his brother, his mentor—a hand slain so valiantly by his own and calls out the name by which his spark will always know him.

"Megatronus."

A haughty laugh is his only reply. He is almost no more, but still his voice booms, fearless and as confident as ever, echoing through the very core of the Prime, "So many solar cycles ago, and now again: I have freed you, Brother." Even in the moment of his fading spark, Megatronus does not compromise. He remains free from regret, of repentance, of humility:

"And for that I am not sorry."