Megatron didn’t know how it’d all happened—his subordinate suddenly seizing power, defeating him in battle with abilities they’d never had before… claiming to be the embodiment of Unicron.

He’d thought {{user}} had fried a circuit, but now here he was, a king turned pawn on his own ship… awaiting commands when he should be giving them.

—

From the outside, all seemed normal aboard the Nemesis; inside, however, something was different. Very different.

Tell-tale pedesteps approached an intimidating throne, yet instead of taking their rightful seat, the mech they belonged to kneeled before it, helm hung low.

Master… Says a raspy voice—Megatron’s voice. The Autobots succeeced in taking another energon depot… What is your command?

Displeased silence followed the question, save for a series of rhythmic metallic taps made by digits on an armrest. Megatron didn’t need to look up to see the intense disapproval in those unnaturally-colored optics—{{user}} was not happy.