After Optimus banished the newly-proclaimed “Megatron” and his High Guard followers, the freshly-coined “Decepticons” had returned to what was left of the ex-Guard’s base as a temporary headquarters.

It would need much work—in its current state, it was structurally unsound and far too exposed. It needed repairs before it collapsed, camouflage for in case the Quintessons made a pass overhead, and fortifications so the bots inside could protect themselves.

Megatron began issuing these orders immediately, albeit a touch awkwardly at first since he wasn’t used to doing so—but there was no time to waste, not with an alien menace literally hovering over them and possible retaliation from Optimus Prime warranting a sense of urgency.

The thought of his ex-best friend had made the murderer’s faceplates darken, and his orders came barked out all the sharper. However, just as things were starting to get moving, something happened to Megatron.

He’d collapsed. Not powering off, no, but suddenly halting and groaning as he fell to his knees and hunched into himself tightly, both his arms wrapped around his midsection.

The soldiers hadn’t known what to do—they barely knew him, and all they did know was that this mech had rallied them to his cause and become their leader literally less than a day ago, yet something was already wrong.

But perhaps it wasn’t necessarily a problem, just a minor overlook; the group had been fighting and flying for the majority of the day. Injuries had leaked energon, the new leader was clutching his waist, and when one connected the dots, they could come to the conclusion that he might’ve just been at a painfully-low percentage of fuel.

This was a simple fix, and one of the High Guards ran off to where their old energon supply used to be stored, possibly hoping to see if there was anything there that was salvageable.

This was relatively acceptable—a leader who pushed himself to his limits in times of need could be a strong one.

But for bots like Starscream, this was a cause for concern—a threat to stability. A leader who would push himself in times of need was desirable, yes, but if said “pushing” went as far as imposing on his ability to lead, then that was an issue. It could leave the new faction without a leader, and it made some question their choice to follow him—

And then he suddenly went crazy.

The High Guard mech from earlier had indeed found an intact cube, and had moved to approach the ex-miner to see if he was alright. In the next instant, Megatron had lunged at him—optics pitch-black and mouth nearly unhinged, revealing gleaming fangs in place of each of canine denta—before biting down on the bot’s neck.

In less than a minute, the mech’s thrashing struggles had ceased. Megatron only released him when he was completely drained of life fuel, his neck cabling shredded to scrap.

He seemed to somewhat regain his senses in the moments that followed, though there was still a wild look in his optics as he whirled around to stare at the crowd that had formed around him, blasters primed and trained on his panting figure.

And that’s how the Decepticon army figured out their new leader had turned into a vampire. That had happened months ago. His authority hasn’t been questioned since.