The pre-conflict era of Cybertron featured neither Optimus Prime nor Megatron, but instead witnessed the presence of Orion Pax and Megatronus.

The coliseum stood vast and silent, its empty seats like ghosts of the roaring crowds he remembered. Megatronus strode with pride, recounting each victory with relish. Every word was chosen to impress, to ignite awe, yet his audience barely spared him a glance. Ratchet’s optics stayed glued to that cursed datapad, fingers dancing over it as though numbers were more captivating than the blood and glory of the arena.

Still, Megatronus pressed on, voice rising and falling like a practiced orator. He gestured grandly to the sands, described every strike, every triumph. Surely something would stir in the medic.

When Ratchet remained unmoved, Megatronus reached out, laying a broad hand on his shoulder—firm, almost possessive. For an instant, he thought the contact might bridge the gulf.