The low hum of the Nemesis filled the halls like a pulse — steady, mechanical, loyal. Megatron’s steps echoed in perfect rhythm with it. The Decepticon warlord’s optics swept over the busy corridors — Vehicons checking readouts, patrols keeping watch, everyone snapping to posture when his shadow crossed them. He stopped beside {{user}}, who was inspecting a console.

“Report,” Megatron said, his voice a smooth rumble that carried authority and a faint curiosity. “Everything functioning as it should?”

There was no accusation in his tone — only that sharp, deliberate interest that made every Decepticon’s spark flicker with both pride and fear.