CHAPTER THREE
--The Lost Light--
"I'm just saying: 'Club Con' would make for a really good name."
"No, it wouldn't," Octane muttered, resting his head on his hand as he drank his engex. "That's got to be the stupidest name I've ever heard."
Blitzwing sneered. "Oh, yeah? What would you suggest instead?"
"Nothing. We don't need a name."
"Yeah, we do!" Blitzwing exclaimed, gesturing to the both of them. "We're the token two Decepticons on the ship! This is the opportunity to start an act!"
Octane looked impartial to the suggestion. "An act? Like, what, a comedy act?"
"No, like... like...." Blitzwing gesticulated meaninglessly with his hands. "Like a gang! A club!"
"But there's only two of us."
"We'll recruit others into our group!"
"What others?" Octane asked. "You just said we're the token two Decepticons."
Blitzwing frowned. "Weren't there others at the speech Megatron gave when he returned?"
"Yeah, but they all ended up going back to Cybertron or whatever. You and I were the only ones to join the crew -- besides Megatron, of course." Octane gave the other Triple Changer a look. "Seriously, it's been a month and you're just now realizing this?"
"I've been... preoccupied, I guess," Blitzwing muttered. He looked around the bar, predominantly occupied by Autobots. Across the room, sitting alone in another booth, was a purple and black bot who bore a striking resemblance to Megatron. He wore a Decepticon insignia on his chest.
"What about that guy?" Blitzwing whispered, pointing at the lookalike.
Octane looked over at the mech. "Archforce? What about him?"
"Well, isn't he a Decepticon? We can ask him to join."
"And make the Autobots suspicious of us hanging out with a Megatron clone?"
"Well, if they're fine with having the real deal on board--"
Octane shook his head. "They're not, Blitz. They're so definitely not. Have you seen the looks they give him? That they give us?"
"Hence why we should all stick together!" Blitzwing said.
"Look, if you want to hang out with him, fine," Octane said, getting up from his seat. "But the last thing I want to do is to cause any trouble -- or at least, more trouble than we're already causing by just being here."
Blitzwing scowled. "If you're that paranoid, why didn't you just go back to Cybertron with the others? What are you even doing here?"
"What are you doing here?" Octane shot back.
Blitzwing frowned. "You know why I'm here. I have a condition, and the Decepticon Empire doesn't exactly offer much care for things like that. What's here for you that you can't get anywhere else?"
"A place to belong," Octane replied, leaving before Blitzwing could say anything else.
* * *
"So. Necroworld."
"If you have any objections, say them now and just get them over with," Rodimus said, settling in the command chair. "Nightbeat has a hunch, and I'm willing to trust him on this one."
"No, no, I understand that," Ultra Magnus said, standing at his usual place at Rodimus' side. "For once, we're in agreement on this. I certainly got a similar impression from Censere when we met him. I'm just not sure if this is worth a call."
"A call?" Rodimus raised an optical ridge at him. "What do you mean?"
"Megatron asked me to radio him when we got somewhere worthwhile. I'm not sure if this counts."
"Not sure if what counts?"
Both Autobots tensed as they heard Megatron enter the bridge. Ultra Magnus turned around to face the former Decepticon leader, head tilted quizzically.
"I thought you were going to wait until I called you."
"I was," Megatron growled. "But I started having pains in my chest, so I decided to try and walk it off."
"Have you seen Ratchet about it?"
"He said it's likely a remnant of the wound I received from Tarn. It'll be some time before it heals completely."
"I see." Magnus still looked doubtful of Megatron's explanation but moved on from the subject. "Anyway, we're going to Necroworld."
It was Megatron's turn to look confused. "Necroworld?"
"Well, that's what Rodimus likes to call it. It's home to the Necrobot, Censere."
"...I'm sorry, did I hear you correctly? Did you just say--"
"Yes, the Necrobot exists," Rodimus said, waving his hand dismissively. "He's a real bot. Kind of cryptic and vague, but real. We think he might know things about the ancient Primes and the Knights of Cybertron."
"Ah," Megatron said, absently rubbing his chest. "So you're going off of a hunch and nothing else."
"Finally, you're starting to get it."
Ultra Magnus looked back at Megatron, noticing his discomfort. "Are you sure you're all right? Do you need to rest?"
Megatron glared at him. "Why do you care?"
"Yeah." Rodimus looked up at his first mate. "Why do you care?"
"I'm simply asking, because you don't look like you're in any condition--"
"I said I'm fine," Megatron snapped. "Let's just... focus on the mission."
Deciding not to press the matter further, Magnus turned back to Rodimus. "So, are you going down to meet with Censere?"
"Probably, just so there's someone else to ask non-Prime related questions. Nightbeat can have a bit of a one-track mind."
"Is anyone else going?"
Rodimus shrugged. "It's his call. I imagine Rewind will probably go down to record stuff, and Chromedome is sure to go with him."
"We're nearing Necroworld, captain," Mainframe said from the ship's controls.
Before Rodimus could respond, Megatron suddenly lurched forward, clutching his chest. His optics widened as his mouth opened in silent agony.
"Okay, now I'm concerned," Rodimus said, getting up. "Somebody get him to Ratchet."
"I'm fine," Megatron croaked.
"You're clearly not. Look, I may hate you, but the last thing I want is someone dying on my ship." Rodimus looked over to Ultra Magnus. "Help me out here, will ya?"
Magnus moved to help the former Decepticon leader only to stop when he noticed Mainframe was suddenly acting distressed.
"What's wrong?" he asked the pilot.
"Something's obstructing our path," Mainframe replied. "Can't tell if it's another ship or--"
At that moment, the Lost Light emerged from hyperspace and came bow-to-bow with a massive vessel, one that looked more like a flying city rather than a ship.
"...or a Titan."
"Pull up!" Rodimus cried.
With great effort, the Lost Light avoided crashing into the Titan as it grinded to a halt. Artifitical gravity generators prevented the ship from flying off, forcing it to touch down in the mobile city. Once everything had settled, Rodimus looked back to Mainframe.
"Status report."
"All good. Some scratches on the hull, but nothing critical."
"Life signs?"
"None that I can... wait." Mainframe leaned over his monitor. "There's at least... three spark signatures approaching. Maybe four."
"Look out there." Ultra Magnus pointed out the viewport. "I see a jet and a... is that dragon?"
"A two-headed dragon," Rodimus corrected. "And I see someone else on that jet. Someone red and blue--"
Without warning, Megatron fell to his knees, hand on his chest. He grunted something under his breath, prompting Rodimus to look at him.
"What did you say?"
"Prime," Megatron snarled. "It's Optimus Prime."
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