Transformers re-Prime-d (Season 1)

Deus Ex Machina

I sat down next to Megatron. I had stopped counting the amount of stories I told. I just knew that I've been coming here every day to comfort my friend. I asked my still friend, "The very beginning right?" I sighed and recollected, "This was while Alpha Trion led the Autobots: after Optimus became a Prime and before you fully led the Decepticons. I was an Autobot scout. We were sent into the front lines to be used as cannon fodder. My commander had forsaken my battalion and my comrades had abandoned me. I was alone and doomed. My comrades died while attempting to leave me and flee. One by one the battalion fell, but not me. I was taking down cons faster than they could be replaced. Slashing them down and quickly running to the next. As a scout I trained for speed. Of course, as you know, in age I was almost in the warrior class. You remember the ceremony we had later? I'll tell it another day. I'm getting off track. So, the barricade of cannons was piling Autobot bodies everywhere around me. There were many, almost innumerable cannons and the barrage of cannon fire was deafening. The Decepticons had taken control of one of the main armories on Cybertron. The Autobots were trying to reclaim it. I knew it wouldn't make much of a difference, but I decided to take down a cannon. I ran at it while it charged. Once it fired, I jumped out of the way and avoided the blast. I sprinted closer and chopped off the barrel. I retreated some. The Decepticons tried to use it to fire. The cannon exploded, taking out many around it. I had created a path for my teammates to slip through. But that did not matter. They were mostly dead. My unit was just one of many in a battalion and the battalion was just one of many waves sent to die. If we survived the cannons our orders were to advance and storm the compound. But, past the cannons lied an entirely different kind of hell. A wall of heavy soldiers stood between me and my goal. I was tired. The tank-like Decepticons shot at me. I avoided combat and ran to the door. A machine gun blaster-wielding con had taken definite interest in me. He took aim at me. I was hit. I was propelled off course and crashed into a wall. My ped was injured. I was in pain by just putting weight on it. I couldn't run. The Decepticon closed in. I readied myself for a last stand. He fired again. I deflected the fire with my swords. He threw his gun at my swords. The weaponry scattered. The blue con ran at me with kicks and punches. I couldn't dodge all of them. I was stricken multiple times. The Decepticon stabbed my side. I fell to the ground bleeding energon. The Decepticon didn't bother finishing me off, he grabbed his weapon and left. The Autobots couldn't get to me and they didn't care. I lay there until nightfall, trying to think about something other than my imminent demise. Funny enough, I thought about how my family had recently perished. They had joined the Allspark, and I couldn't stop thinking about how the same faction that took them away, would escort me straight to them. Then, you appeared. You walked up to me. You noticed that I was still alive. I was sure the end had come. Instead, you picked me up and carried me to your- the Decepticon's- medical bay. You argued with, and then begged the doctor to help me. You saved my life, Megatron. The next day all we did was talk. You said that you saw me fight and believed that I had potential. As was customary, I swore a life debt to you. When you asked my name I told you that I, like many others, had no official name: A stretched truth that you never questioned. You laughed when I said that my unit had given me the name: The Shadow of Death. You did not laugh because that name was preposterous. You laughed because I was silver. You explained that shadows were not silver, and that they certainly did not have finite detail outlines of red that matched both their eyes and symbol. You asked me why I only used swords. I expressed my novice skill in using guns and the Autobots unwillingness to train scouts outside of battle experience. You said that I would not need guns. You promised me that you'd always be there to protect me," I held Megatron's hand. I concluded, "I joined the Decepticons that day. I met Soundwave first, and then the others later. I fought by your side. When the party gained more power and gave the soldiers more leisure, I changed my color pattern: I replaced the silver with black. Down the lines you took over the Decepticons from the Fallen. I joined your Warriors Elite. Only later, after you promoted the others to Phase Sixers, you gave me the best possible job. You promoted me to be part of your personal taskforce," I let go of Megatron's hand. I got up, walked and stood by the door. I turned around and saluted my friend, "Thank you Megatron, for everything... I'll talk to you again tomorrow."