Note: The Dynobots, specifically Grimlock and Sludge, are supposed to have improper grammar.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was over. The slaughter had finished. The Constructicons who, for whatever reason, were spared by the Dynobots were strained by stasis cuffs. The others were either dead or close enough to it.
Livewire couldn't help but be appalled by this. Why would Sentinel Prime allow such savage brutes run free and murder whoever they wanted?
"They're not dead, in case you're wondering."
She looked up at the winged Dynobot who had saved her and Smokescreen, and had since introduced himself as Swoop. "Are you sure?" she asked. "I mean, they kind of look like it."
Swoop shook his head. "Their sparks are going to be extracted for confinement at Garrus-9- the new one, on Elba."
"Don't get us wrong though," a Dynobot with a broad build said. "We would have loved to tear these guys to shreds."
Swoop rolled his eyes. "You love tearing anything, Slug."
"It's Slag!" the Dynobot snapped. "As in molten metal! Because I have fire breath!"
"We all have fire breath, you dim diode," said a Dynobot with spiked shoulders.
Slag scowled. "Yeah, but I never see you, Swoop, or Sludge use it!"
"Well, Sludge is too dumb to find his own afterburner with a homing beacon."
"That not true, Snarl!" said the largest of the Dynobots. "You too dumb to locate your, uh, pointy thingy!"
"It's called a sword, numbskull," Snarl muttered. "Better hope you don't find it wedged into your processor."
"Enough, all of you!" snapped their leader, Grimlock. "We need to get these 'Cons to stockade and then head for Metroplex, quickly."
"Why the rush?" Swoop asked. "And why are we heading for the Metroplex?"
"Got call from Ultra Magnus," Grimlock replied. "Apparently, the High Council got unwanted company."
* * *
It was a miracle that would soon become a catastrophe.
The High Council had been in the middle of a meeting when the doors to the Grand Imperium swung open and Optronix, the heir to the title of Prime, strode in. The councilors fell into a hushed silence, startled not only by the presence of someone thought dead, but also the new look he had since adopted. Their eyes flickered between him and Sentinel Prime, who sat at the opposite side of the chamber. It was the Prime himself who finally broke the silence.
"Optronix. It is good to see you alive and well."
"I'm flattered," Optronix said bitterly. "I have come to take the throne which is rightfully mine."
Sentinel Prime raised an eyebrow. "Throne? If you are referring to the position of Prime, I'm afraid you not ascend to it just yet until I die."
"That can be easily arranged."
Some of the councilors gasped, some as if just noticing the large fusion cannon attached to Optronix's right arm.
"What is the meaning of this?" demanded Halogen, one of the oldest serving members of the council.
"Cybertron is in need of a change," Optronix said. "A change in society. A change in law. A change in leadership."
"What is this rubbish?" Proteus snapped. "What has gotten to the wires in this mech's head?"
"You tell me." Before anyone could stop him, Optronix fired his cannon at the councilor, creating a gaping wound in his chest and extinguishing his spark.
As the rest of the council erupted into cries and shouts, Sentinel Prime shot up from his seat. "Optronix, stop this madness right now!"
The former Autobot sneered. "Why should I? It is you who won't put a stop to your own madness."
"What are you railing on about?" cried Sigil of the Guilds Domesticus. "Cybertron was at peace until you-"
He was silence by a shot to his face. Again, the other councilors reacted with terror, some even fleeing from the chamber.
"I am not to blame for this series of recent events," Optronix went on. "The Decepticons, more specifically Trannis and his warlords, are. I am here to put a stop to their anarchy."
"By murdering High Councilors?" Halogen snapped. "Is that how you justify-"
The green-colored councilor's head was quickly replaced by a smoldering wreck.
"Yes," Optronix answered his unfinished question. "You are the ones who have allowed their anarchy to reign supreme. You are just as deserving of punishment as they are, if not more so."
Sentinel Prime regarded the one whom he had almost regarded as a son with deep sorrow. "Optronix," he croaked. "Please, don't-"
Optronix met his gaze with furious eyes, their azure glow slowly becoming red. "No," he muttered. "Not Optronix. Nor is it Optimus Prime, the name you chose for me. Instead, I intend to name myself after one of the Thirteen."
Sentinel braced himself for the answer to his next question. "And who would that be?"
"The Fallen," Optronix said quietly. "All of Cybertron shall know and respect me... as Megatron."
Sentinel's previous sorrow was replaced by vexation. "You dare take on the Fallen's forsaken name as your own?"
Optronix grinned. "Clearly. Much like myself, he had the right idea, but was evicted by his brethren."
"I will not stand for this treason." From behind his back, Sentinel Prime brought out his Primax Blade -- a weapon which had not seen use in nearly a thousand years -- and stepped down from his podium. "Much like your new namesake, you shall fall before the legacy of Primus," he growled.
Optronix- now Megatron- let out a harsh laugh. "I beg to differ, considering that the Fallen never had an army... unlike me."
At that moment, a Ground Bridge suddenly appeared out of thin air and several dozen Decepticons swarmed in. Megatron then turned and grinned at Sentinel.
"If you want to call this off-"
"Over my cold, offline corpse." Sentinel Prime raised his blade and members of the Elite Guard leaped out of nowhere. "For Cybertron!"
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