The wind blew gently past Megatron, he sighed and took a deep vent in, feeling the calm serenity of the area he was in. He sat at the edge of a cliff, having left the warship for some personal time to himself.

Starscream's incompetence had led to yet another failure, and frankly, Megatron was stressed. How was he supposed to destroy his nemesis if there were constant failures left and right? He didn't know.

Dark energon helped, but it only made it so his spark wouldn't necessarily extinguish, and controlling the undead was more tiring than it seemed. At this point it almost seemed like what the humans called a "drug," which he grumbled bitterly about anytime he thought of what he had learned about that particular human topic. To think they willingly destroyed themselves with such small things intrigued.... And disturbed him.

He sighed, looking at the sunset once more, feeling an unfamiliar feeling in his spark. He looked down slightly. It was almost like a.... Longing, for something in the past. Something that had been good, but he had lost.