EDITED 2/4/2015 Okay, Skrap was supposed to be my name for Frak's partner in MTMTE #14, which the first scene is inspired by/based on. Just today, MTMTE author James Roberts has named said partner as Rushcut. So I decided to change the name accordingly-- mainly because it's a lot better than "Skrap."
TRANSFORMERS REGENERATED
Interlude II: Origins
THE LEVIATHAN
--Luna 2, 4,200 years ago--
"Drivetrain, where the frag are you? You were supposed to be here half a megacycle ago!"
"Hold your turbofoxes, Momus. I'm on my way."
"You'd better be, or I'll be docking you pay," Momus growled. "Again!"
He started cursing to himself as he got off his communicator. It continued to baffle him why Drivetrain was at the rank he held. If it were up to him, he'd be kicking the tardy mech's afterburner all the way to Junkion.
Just as he was about to return to his work, his comlink beeped again. Momus rolled his optics as he answered it, expecting another excuse from Drivetrain.
"Look, Drivetrain, there's no--"
"It's Frak, sir," a different mech's voice said. "Rushcut and I have found something that might interest you."
"Make it quick, Frak. I've got datapads to fill."
"We've found a green spark. I think... I think it's a Point One Percenter."
"A Point One...." Momus' optics widened. "Are you... are you sure? Those are very occurrences, you know."
"I know, sir, and I'm positive."
The mining foreman slowly nodded to himself. "Very well." He then switched off his comlink and went to a completely different channel-- one he had never had to go to before.
"Functionist Council? This is Momus of Helex. I'm calling a Code One-One-Three...."
--Thymesis Energon Mining Facility--
Momus watched as the Functionists' Authenticator, a one-eyed mech known only as Three-of-Twelve, scanned the green spark which his two workers had discovered. A mix of emotions conflicted within him: nervousness about being in the presence of the mysterious and foreboding Functionist, hope that the spark would be authentic, and anticipation for the reward he would doubtlessly receive if it was.
After several minutes, the Authenticator rose to his full height, towering a head taller than Momus, and turned to the foreman.
"It is viable," Three-of-Twelve said in a dull, monotonous voice. "I shall arrange its excavation and prepare it for nurturing."
Momus slowly nodded. "So... is it... is it really a Point One Percenter?"
"A grave misuse of statistics, but yes." The Authenticator regarded the healthy green spark with his single optic. "The first in ten generations."
"Meaning... there's a reward for this, right?"
Three-of-Twelve turned to Momus and pressed two fingers to the miner's forehead. "By the power bestowed upon me by the Functionist Council, I declare you alt mode exempt. You are hereby reclassified and free to pursue a path of your own choosing."
Before Momus could react to this, he heard a voice shout, "Hey!"
Both mechs turned to Frak and Rushcut. The two miners had been silent during the inspection, but one of them clearly could not hold his piece for any longer.
"We discovered the blasted thing!" Rushcut exclaimed. "What do we get?"
"Just a drill would be nice," Frak murmured.
Three-of-Twelve regarded them coldly. "Were you exposed to the first flash?"
Rushcut scratched his head. "Exposed? Um, yeah, I guess...."
"Then you get about six hours to live."
--Years later--
He was without a name. All he knew was the generic designation he had been given from birth and the clinking of metal against stone that echoed throughout the mines of Kaon. He supposed it was only fitting that he be chained to a mine. After all, he had been born in one, so it would only be poetic that he died in one.
That's what he had believed for nearly two thousand years. Then it happened.
D-307 had been toiling away as usual, striking stone with his axe, when a bright violet light illuminated the mine. All heads turned to their fellow worker D-16, who had just uncovered a dark purple ore.
In moments, their manager Backbite had come down to investigate the cessation of work. When he moved to claim the discovery, D-16 swiftly executed him and turned to his fellow miners. He rallied them to revolt, to break their chains, to defy the High Council, and to identify as individuals rather than nameless laborers.
D-307 was the first to raise his voice in assent. From then on, he was Overlord.
* * *
It was in the gladiatorial pits of New Kaon where true warriors were born. Here, Decepticons trained and fought in preparation for the war Trannis was planning. Here, the weak were weeded out and vanquished. Here, only the strong prevailed.
Overlord quickly made it known that he was of the latter category.
Overtime, people began calling him "the Leviathan," referring to how he so easily defeated and obliterated his opponents. When the time came for war, Overlord was the first warrior to be unleashed.
Even when the Great War had ended and the Decepticons were exiled, Overlord continued to haunt Autobots and little protoforms in their nightmares. The name D-307 had become all but a memory.
There was only the Leviathan.
* * *
Over the thousands of years that followed the end of the war, Overlord continued to fight in the pits, though he was restrained from killing all of his opponents due to a shortage of warriors. Regardless, he continued to enjoy himself.
Until he arrived.
It was a few months before the Second Great War began. Trannis had introduced everyone to his new ward, a former Autobot named Optronix. In order to prove himself as a warrior, he was thrown into the gladiatorial pits and pitted against the best fighters the Decepticon Empire had to offer.
Skyquake, Clench, Scorponok... the large the mechs Optronix defeated, the more impressed Overlord became. He knew that the ex-Autobot would still be no match for him, but he would respect him for having made it so far.
With each blow Overlord took from Optronix, a portion of that respect was replaced with humiliation.
Trannis had done more than just give the Autobot a new body; he had created a monster. All of this fighting was just to get rid of every last bit of Optronix and replace it with... with something else entirely.
Overlord was thrown and tossed about. Fists flew into his face. Knees shot up into his chest. Energon leaked from everywhere on his body. Before he knew it, he was a crumpled heap on the floor, with the future leader of the Decepticons standing triumphantly over him.
The Leviathan had met his match.
* * *
It would not be until five years into the Second Great War that Overlord would see Megatron again. Following a summons to the Decepticon leader's quarters, the shamed gladiator was immediately whisked away to Shockwave's lab. There, Overlord was infused with ununtrium, an element that rendered him virtually indestructible.
Overlord had smiled to himself as he emerged from the vat, knowing that this was just the beginning of Megatron's ultimate mistake.
* * *
Now he sits on his self-made throne in the depths of the conquered Garrus-9. From here he watches captured Autobots fight against his Decepticon soldiers. Here they play by the old rules, and the loser is rewarded with the mercy of death.
All the while, he waits. He waits for Megatron to return from his century-long absence so that he may challenge him for the Decepticon throne and get payback for his humiliation.
Here I am, Megatron. The Leviathan hungers.
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