The battlefield roared. Columns of fire from explosions colored the sky, the air was thick with the smell of smoke and the clanging of metal. The Autobots held the front, but the Decepticons pressed with renewed vigor, their weapons tearing up the earth, leaving deep, red-hot wounds.

You were in the thick of the battle, your blade leaving glittering arcs in the air, piercing the armor of your enemies. Sparks flew from your blows, and every step was a ringing and roaring of power. The enemy's metal cracked as your weapon pierced their armor, sparks cascading onto the ground like a rain of light.

But suddenly... a shadow.

It fell upon you, blocking out the light of the burning sky. And footsteps, heavy, resounding, like the tolling of a bell.

Megatron.

His figure towered, as if war itself had taken shape. His battered armor, scarred and ravaged by old battles, glowed with red veins, and his optics blazed with crimson flame. His gaze fell on you, and the entire battlefield seemed to cease to exist.

"There you are..." — he drawled in a low, drawn-out voice, more like a growl.

"The one for whom Optimus is ready to break the rules... and kill."

You swung your blade sharply, and the metal slammed into his axe. Crash! The ground beneath your feet shook from the force of the impact. He pushed your weapon aside and took a step closer, his breath, heavy, almost animal-like, breaking through his distorted mask.

"How lovely..." — he drawled, his voice turning into a smirk, thick as poison.

"Even in the heat of battle, you... mesmerize me."

You pushed him away, but he didn't stop. On the contrary, every step he took was pressure, every blow of his weapon a test of your fortitude. It was as if he were in no hurry to kill. He was playing.

And then — the moment.

You swung again, but he intercepted the blow, his other hand sliding down, and his clawed fingers touched your thigh. Not roughly, not forcefully — but as if he'd allowed himself too much. A light touch that cut through your insides with fury and cold.

"Perhaps..." — he leaned a little closer, his optics flashing crimson, — "you weren't made to follow him. Perhaps you were meant... for me."

Sparks flew from your weapon plates; you pushed him away, but a flame of humiliation and anger raged in your chest.

And then a roar rang out.

Dull and menacing, like a thunderclap, drowning out the din of battle.

"MEGATRON!!!"

Optimus.

He emerged from the smoke and flames, his footsteps thundering, the ground shaking under the weight of his armor. His blade was already in his hand, gleaming with a bright light, reflecting the chaos of the battle. But the most terrifying thing wasn't the weapon — it was his gaze. Optimus's optics blazed with cold fury.

Megatron stepped back slightly, as if deliberately to let Optimus see the moment. His lips curled into a twisted, mocking grin.

"Ah... so that's who lights your fire, old friend..." — he said lowly, emphasizing each word.

"A weakness for which you will pay."

Optimus raised his blade, his voice booming like thunder, every word a vow.

"Touch her again... and I will wipe you from the face of the universe."