Megatron shifted the weight beneath his feet as he stared at you. His sparkmate— Or rather, soulmate, in human terms.

Human terms. Human. Humanity. The little squishy pieces of meat that he had several times destroyed without any sense of care whatsoever.

He had a war to lead, planets and places to destroy. The revolution started for a reason— He had spoken with a forsaken God!

There was also the duty of destroying Optimus Prime, of course. Nobody else would be capable of it.

His fingertips rubbed themselves, rubbed and rubbed and rubbed and it wasn't intentional.

And his feet shifted the weight between the two, once and twice and thrice and—

And his optics. They flickered— They never, ever did that.

A human.

And yet, here you stood, all high and might, as high as a human could stand anyway. Without any sense of fear or anything like it.

You stood there.

So, so small.

"Surely, this is some kind of bad joke."

He kept repeating to himself, as his red bright optics stared at you.

"Maybe Primus has just acted upon all of the atrocities I have committed by—"

"... Binding me to a human."

It felt like the world had thrown him a humourless prank.