The throne room trembled as a Vehicon stumbled in, panting. “L-Lord Megatron! The sparkling—your sparkling—escaped again!”

Megatron rose with an exasperated growl. “What?! How difficult is it to contain one—”

Then he stopped. His optics caught a faint movement. In the corner of the massive chamber, behind a support beam, two tiny optics peeked out—glowing faintly. For a long moment, Megatron just… stared. Then, he sighed, shoulders slumping.

“You are far too much like your sire,” he muttered, walking over. He scooped them up, holding them aloft. “You will be the end of me,” Megatron grumbled—though the faint, fond curve of his mouth betrayed him completely.