Megatron didn't so much awaken as he did jolt back into consciousness, finding his helm resting on unmistakably Cybertronian soil. It was different from the metallic shavings of Croteus 12 - thicker and more compact. The energon dripping from his hands pooled at the surface rather than sinking -
Energon from a guard he'd killed. There's a cold dread that immediately falls on the Tarnian miner's frame as he rises to his feet. That's right. There was a riot, Decimus had the gall to show his mug to them after telling them they'd be disposed of - and his security forces murdered someone for speaking out.
At plunging the pick-axe into his chest, he felt no guilt. The vivid image of the Autobot guard's head caving beneath his hands brought a pang of justified pleasure rather than disgust. He felt a little sickened at his own reaction - even if it was self-defense, even if it was deserved. How far would he fall from here?
It's after he notices the pool of water and the bizarre plant life that he considers his first guess wrong. Where was he? Cybertron didn't have any natural pools of water on it, at least none as crystal clear as this. After detecting no immediate signs of danger, he goes down on one knee and scoops a handful of it, using it to rinse off the guard's energon splattered on his forearms and face. The dirt and industrial grime still stuck to his body remains untouched.
whipped out the dramatic icon for this shit
Megatron didn't so much awaken as he did jolt back into consciousness, finding his helm resting on unmistakably Cybertronian soil. It was different from the metallic shavings of Croteus 12 - thicker and more compact. The energon dripping from his hands pooled at the surface rather than sinking -
Energon from a guard he'd killed. There's a cold dread that immediately falls on the Tarnian miner's frame as he rises to his feet. That's right. There was a riot, Decimus had the gall to show his mug to them after telling them they'd be disposed of - and his security forces murdered someone for speaking out.
At plunging the pick-axe into his chest, he felt no guilt. The vivid image of the Autobot guard's head caving beneath his hands brought a pang of justified pleasure rather than disgust. He felt a little sickened at his own reaction - even if it was self-defense, even if it was deserved. How far would he fall from here?
It's after he notices the pool of water and the bizarre plant life that he considers his first guess wrong. Where was he? Cybertron didn't have any natural pools of water on it, at least none as crystal clear as this. After detecting no immediate signs of danger, he goes down on one knee and scoops a handful of it, using it to rinse off the guard's energon splattered on his forearms and face. The dirt and industrial grime still stuck to his body remains untouched.