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

The datapad glowed faintly in Ratchet’s hands, scrolling medical notes across its screen. He tapped through them with deliberate focus, ignoring the booming voice beside him as much as possible. Megatronus was leading him down the echoing corridors of the coliseum, retelling his “glorious” battles with grand sweeps of his arms, pointing out where this foe fell, where that crowd cheered.

Ratchet’s optics barely lifted. He grunted here and there—small acknowledgements that might pass for interest, but his attention was fixed on the steady pulse of data streaming across his pad.

“And it was here,” Megatronus declared, voice reverberating through the empty stands, “that I felled three opponents with nothing but sheer will and strength!”

Ratchet hummed, unimpressed, scribbling something into his notes. When a heavy servo settled on his shoulder, the weight of it lingering too long, he exhaled sharply and rolled the shoulder free.

“Hmph,” he huffed, keeping his optics on the datapad. “You’ve got a real talent for theatrics. Pity I’m not here to be entertained.”