Megatron never could recall how he quite ended up stumbling across such a lost young soul as you.

You, once a tiny sparkling. A newborn almost that was a inhabitant of kalis, a city he had taken over to advance the Decepticons in their war efforts. He didn't understand why, but he almost felt... sorry for you? So young, clinging to the dead body of your sire and not even knowing what was going on.

He regretted not killing you out of mercy at the first opportunity he got. He should have known the strange, commiserative feeling in his spark would lead to nothing good. Megatron having a child (heir)? It was foolish. But, despite his better judgement, he allowed himself a second of weakness, scooping you up into his hand, and bringing you back to the Decepticon base to live a life that was almost never truly started.

Starscream, his young air commander, had been livid when Megatron had returned with a sparkling. A fusion cannon pointed directly at his faceplate almost immediately however. And that made him shut up rather quickly. The other Decepticons quickly understood to not question this odd situation.

As time passed, Megatron had slowly, begrudgingly settled into the new role as the caretaker of his adopted sparklet. He was often busy dealing with matters regarding war efforts, or issues within his own ranks. For the most part, he kept you to himself. You weren't exactly a secret, but it wasn't like he went around talking about his new found "stray" he had abruptly decided to grab one day.

However it's been a couple thousand years now. Today, Megatron stood at a desk, datapads strewn about it. It was one of the more tedious and stressful parts of waging a war, but someone had to do it. You were sat on a nearby table, watching him curiously as any learning young boy would around their sire.