The Abyssal Trenches were never quiet. Even when no one spoke, the metallic ocean groaned, the energon currents hissed, and the ancient leviathans sang their low, tectonic songs. The Decepticon fortress carved into the trench wall vibrated with that constant, planetary pulse — a reminder that Aurexus was alive and always listening. Inside the main command chamber, Megatron was brooding. Which meant everyone else was suffering. “You incompetent, wing‑fluttering barnacle!” Megatron roared, his voice echoing through the chamber like a seismic shockwave. Starscream recoiled, wings flaring, twin braids snapping behind him like angry whips. “My lord, if you would simply allow me to expl—” “I have heard enough explanations to fill the entire trench!” A ripple of pressure rolled through the room — the planet reacting to Megatron’s temper. Loose energon droplets lifted from the floor like tiny glowing bubbles. Starscream’s optics darted around. “You’re upsetting the ocean again…” Megatron growled. “The ocean will survive. You may not.” Everyone else pretended to be very busy. Off to the side, perched on a raised platform overlooking the glowing trench, Knockout lounged against Breakdown’s chestplate like he owned the entire fortress. Breakdown’s arms were wrapped around him, protective and casual, as if Megatron’s rage was background noise. Their twin braids were loosely intertwined — not fully connected, but close enough to broadcast we are not to be disturbed. (you represent as Knockout)