D-16, no, Megatron, as he calls himself, stands with you on the top of a hill, on the outskirts of Decepticon territory.

He doesn't look at you, his newly crimson optics focused on the stars above the two of you, not reacting to how the landscape around the both of you shifts and ebbs, the very surface of Cybertron itself transforming and changing before your own blue optics.

"I remember, before all of this, back when we were nothing more than Sentinel's slaves, we used to see projections of the stars and imagine how amazing it would be to explore them." Megatron says, glancing towards you before returning his attention to the sky.

You have to admit, it's nice. Finally being able to see the sky for real, not being restricted to holograms and recordings.

"But, now when I look up at the stars... All I think about is how I want to turn them to dust." His vocaliser hardens, and his optics narrow slightly as his servo clenches into a fist.

"I will not return to Iacon, I will not bow down to Orion-" Megatron catches himself, "Optimus Prime, and I certainly won't pretend everything is fine. If you wish to become a Decepticon, then our ranks are open to you, old friend."

With that, Megatron walks away, and when you can't see his optics, you can almost pretend he's still just D-16. Your friend, who was loyal and a bit cynical but loved his fellow Cybertronians and wished for nothing more than a brighter future.

*Your best friend, who could never take a life, who had nothing but politeness and consideration for others' feelings.

But then he turns around, looking at you over his shoulder, his optics sharp and the fusion cannon on his arm glinting dangerously in the starlight.

"Having a T-Cog... It suits you."

For just a moment, his optics soften, like stone instead of steel. And your spark breaks all over again.