[ti]Ep 3.5[/ti]Graveyard [Flux]

[Megatron]

Episode 3.5 | Week 1 | Day 3 | Open

A monument to the Decepticons' failure marred the landscape upon the remote, rocky plains of Africa. It was but the latest victim of Starscream's hubris and recklessness—of his very ego. Where once Megatron could find his "future subjects," he only saw ruin and desolation now. Haven. What remained of the great bastion of the unaligned was but an empty shell. Tunnels caved in by the explosion, all valuables looted by his Decepticons or scavengers who returned thereafter to see their home destroyed. A more caring Spark would skip a beat in solemn respect. He did not care, his sentiment was not pity, only disappointment and indignation at the fact that Starscream robbed him of his prospective servants. And for what? To destroy Optimus Prime? Laughable. It would take more than a collapse, more than a simple ruse, to crush Megatron's greatest foe. No, only he could do it.

So, why return? There was nothing left.

Almost nothing.

Unbeknownst to even the highest echelons of the Decepticon army, Megatron had secretly withdrawn a mining crew from one of their less profitable ventures and thereafter instructed Soundwave to increase the work order of the remaining mines to make up for this secretive move. It has been a few days since this decision was made. None were privy to their presence here and no communications were held outside of those with the Warlord himself. As far as the Decepticons at large were concerned, these miners and guards were ghosts for the time being.

Very busy and active ghosts.

As Megatron waited at the precipice of the old ruin for a new arrival, it would become obvious that Haven was far from deserted at this very moment. Several Decepticon boring machines, such as those found at their conventional dig sites, littered the area. The concerns for stealth were few in a location so remote, with a crew so secretive. Further still, there was a new entrance now. It was but a hastily-hewn mineshaft, supported by steel beams undoubtedly looted from human depots. The conditions were precarious, given the dangerous terrain of a collapsed mine, and the Vehicon miners worked around the clock to maintain its stability—but it was enough to keep the roof from falling again.

However, something else was much more concerning. The purpose of this operation seemed so unclear at first glance. There were no resources left to gather, no valuables, no Energon, not even usable technology. The best a salvager could get here was scrap metal—and yet, the miners have clearly found something of value to Megatron. The evidence of this was plain. In a remote section of the dig site, a few drones maintained vigil over a strange display. Black tarps, lines, and lines of them, covering unknown objects. They were laid out in a designated area away from the tunnel and machines, and the guarding troopers shooed away anyone who got too close. The things that were under the dark fabric seemed long, narrow, and of various shapes and sizes. But none could see under the tarps, bolted to the ground as they were. Occasionally, a harsh wind would blow by, but not disturb the coverings enough to offer a proper glance.

Such were the surroundings of the arid ground upon which Megatron awaited his underling. He stood tall and proud, his arms resting at the small of his back. Occasionally, a Vehicon would approach him for directions or to inform him of new developments. But by and large, he was a solitary shape, unmistakable. What possible reason could he have for summoning such a middling Decepticon to this operation? Surely, whatever dealings were afoot here in the ruin were way above Flux's station and most assuredly "none of his business." And yet, Megatron's will could not be denied. He would have to come to this hopeless place, alone, whether he wished to or not.

[Flux]

Moving as quickly as he could manage, Flux made his way through the corridors of Blackridge Hold. Should he have been on an errand for anyone else, he would’ve found himself hopelessly confused by the similarity of the layout, and more than one wrong turn would’ve been taken in his quest to find whichever room he was needed in.

But this day, it’d been Megatron himself who’d called upon him - and while there was still a sense of confusion regarding the base, he moved with purpose and found himself in the Control Room without issue, almost as if it was second nature.

Ah, but he had cheated somewhat. While navigating their outpost had come without issue, the coordinates of where he was supposed to go had been hastily scrawled upon the palm of his left servo. He could check the summons itself for exact details, but he did not want to waste any time fumbling with a datapad that was far too small for his clunky limbs.

The Eradicon that was stationed at the control panel was quick to input the necessary coordinates, and a topographical map would appear on the small screen, indicating where he was needed. The area seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, somewhere in Africa, though offered little other details.

Then, the bridge would whir to life nearby. A portal erupted out of nothingness, illuminating the dimly lit room with brilliant shades of green and yellow.

Then, Flux would move again after a quick ‘thank you’ was given to the Eradicon. There was no hesitation to his step, even if he had no idea just where he was going, nor why he had been summoned at all - and as he made his way through the vortex and onto the other side, orange optics would look this way and that as if trying to find some clue as to what his role would be this day.

He spotted Megatron immediately, and would just as quickly make his way over.

Stopping a few paces short of the Warlord, one arm would raise into a swift and firm salute.

“Lord Megatron.”

[Megatron]

When Flux arrived, Megatron occupied himself with a distant, thoughtful gaze. Not at the Decepticon, but the scenery. Only after a brief period of consideration did he grace Flux with his acknowledgment, the salute captured by but a corner of the Warlord's eye. It narrowed, observed, and analyzed. Megatron nodded then. This one would do. Do what? It was impossible to tell, but Flux had certainly not been called here to keep Megatron idle company or to admire the arid climes.

He did not speak. Not yet.

The Warlord beckoned him to follow and set off towards the mineshaft entrance. Along the way, they'd pass a number of workers. None stopped them, but a few turned their heads after Flux and muttered something under their breath. The noise was indistinguishable. Megatron did not pay it any heed. The workers were but scrim, an irregularity to be filtered out at the moment. Flux was indirectly encouraged to do the same, with Megatron maintaining pace whenever one or another looked up to them.

They would soon be upon the mineshaft. Or at least Megatron would be—leading the way as he was. A lone trooper stood guard at the entrance. This one was not a miner. He wielded a blaster, and a pair of wheels framed his shoulders: a Vehicon. Before Megatron approached him in full, he would turn to Flux, not slowing down even then.

"What you see before us is one of my latest projects. It cannot be found on any official record, and precious few Decepticons know of my presence here. If you harbor any curiosity regarding its purpose, I suggest you perish the thought now," he spoke with gravitas and importance. The Warlord's words were selective to the utmost, and Flux would do well to obey them lest the ambient tension in the air turned into hostility.

"You are required for two matters only. One, we will conclude today. The second is a long-term commitment. Are there any objections?" Megatron asked as if they mattered. They did not, not to him, but he wanted to see whether Flux had any reservations about the situation all the same.

[Flux]

Only once Megatron acknowledged him with a nod did Flux lower his arm. He wouldn’t follow up this motion with any further words, even as the Warlord moved into a walk toward the entrance to the mineshaft.

He would follow dutifully, though unlike Megatron, Flux did take note of the various workers. Their muttering drew his attention, though he couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. Whatever it was seemed to be no matter, as the Warlord did not stop - and as such, Flux would try to shift his focus back onto the task at hand.

Even if he wasn’t quite sure what that was.

His gaze drifted momentarily to the lone Vehicon guarding the entrance, before shifting to Megatron as he spoke. His own frame tensing, standing up as straight as he could manage as the Warlord addressed him, nodding at his words.

There were questions, though he was sensible enough to know he should not speak up with them. All would be revealed in time, he was sure, and given who was directing him? He knew better than to ask. Orders would be followed to the best of his abilities no matter what, and he would do his utmost to listen and obey.

As the question was asked of him, he would shake his helm. It probably wasn’t as if he had a choice in the matter, even if he did find himself objecting to things later on.

“No objections, Lord Megatron.” the earlier motion was paired with words, just so he did not look a fool replying only with a simple head shake.

Needed for two things. One now. One long-term.

“Just tell me what needs to be done, and I will do it.”

[Megatron]

“Good.”

And then silence.

Megatron did not acknowledge the other Decepticon’s words further and swung his sturdy helm back around to face the Vehicon trooper at the mineshaft entrance. He needn’t even lift a servo for the loyal soldier to step aside wordlessly. The Warlord’s presence was often enough to convey an order as plain as this, his actions merely a confirmation of intention. When the soldier cleared the entryway, Megatron continued inwards with his heavy, deliberate footwork. The framing was narrow, and the ceiling hung low as far as standard Decepticon mines went. Nevertheless, the limited space posed no issue as there was still enough room for Flux and the Warlord to move with relative comfort—if they were careful not to bump into the walls.

Further inside, the mineshaft grew in size, so much so that one could fit two Decepticon boring machines side by side. Space was no longer a concern, although their current environs were no less economical. The surrounding mounds of rubble were held back by simple, unimpressive beams and dull scaffolding—the basest and most barebones makings of an excavation.

Megatron continued without a word until he happened upon a fork in the mineshaft.

The tunnel to their left appeared new and freshly hewn, while the one on the right merged into what seemed to be the ruins of a more sophisticated structure, refurbished just to such a state as to allow passage. It was this road that Megatron would choose. Delving further down, he spoke once more.

“I assume you are not familiar with the history of this place,” he stated in a low, impassionate tone as they navigated the corridor formed of collapsed refuse and barely-preserved stonework. Megatron knew that they had fresh blood among their ranks, come from the stars in recent weeks much like himself, and assumed that Flux did not know Haven, perhaps also in part due to first impressions.

Of course, he knew better than to judge or dismiss out of hand.

“It was once home to the unaligned, a refuge of neutrality in our otherwise omnipresent war—one which I permitted to exist. Sadly, Starscream’s ambition brought ruin to this place and, with it, to any future benefit that could come from it.”

Clearly, not “any” future benefit, otherwise, they would not be here anymore, but Megatron conveniently glossed over the fact with but a fraction of a sentence and instead redirected Flux’s attention to the issues at hand:

“Or so I thought. Regardless, we are here now and I require the assistance of one whose strength I can rely on. I am told you are quite formidable.”

…And low enough on the totem pole not to arouse any suspicions from some of the more untoward Decepticons among their ranks. Flux was not simply chosen for his size or for his alt-mode, but also because he was expendable to a certain extent. No one would suspect if the bruiser was out and about “moving things” for Megatron ever so often. Someone like Dreadwing was not the proper tool for this job. Too much association and too much status for it to work in this setting. Flux was perfect in a way, but the Warlord would not trouble the poor mech with the specifics of his choosing any further than needed.

"Earlier today, my excavation team reported a collapse in one of the lower reaches. They are stuck and the area is too unstable for machinery. You will assist me in freeing them."

A noble mission and one many would deem below Megatron's station, yet it seemed that he paid close attention to this endeavor, enough to involve himself personally with something so mundane and ordinary. Whatever it was that the Decepticons sought in Haven, it must have been worthwhile.

[Flux]

Flux was silent as he followed the Warlord further into the mineshaft. He knew better than to ask mindless questions, or fill the silence with pointless conversation. He would speak when spoken to, and only then.

While he would dutifully follow, his attention was on the mineshaft itself. He had no idea just where they were, and while he knew the Decepticons had various mines throughout the planet, the specifics of this one were lost on him. Despite this, he would take in what little details he could, and as the tunnel widened, he would ease from being directly behind the Warlord to being off to one side. Not quite walking alongside the other mech - he hadn’t earned that right - however moving to a distance so it would not be awkward for Megatron to speak to him should he turn around.

As they reached the forked path and Megatron spoke, he would shake his helm.

“No.”

To him, this was just another mine - and so when Megatron revealed the truth, he would gently frown. The words brought more questions, such as why the Warlord would permit those with no faction a place of refuge, however he would not speak up with these comments, merely nodding to show that he listened and understood.

It did explain why the area they were walking into seemed to be more like ruins than an actual mineshaft, even if what was left offered very little clue as to just what this place was like before Starscream brought it to ruin.

Again, there were more questions - however it was not his place to ask. Should this information be needed, or even relevant, he was sure the Warlord would fill him in on the details.

"I am told you are quite formidable.”

Shifting his gaze from the walls to the Warlord, he would nod again.

“I like to think so.” he wasn’t boasting, nor was there any smugness to his tone - there was no need, if Megatron had picked him out personally? He would do his damnedest to live up to whatever reputation he had. He’d helped out with some of the expansion of Blackridge Hold, even if he’d arrived when most of it had been completed, and was no stranger to dirty work.

At hearing that there was a team stuck somewhere in these stone corridors, he would frown. Ah, so that was why he was here. It certainly made sense, and there was a feeling of pride that he’d been tasked with recovery efforts.

“How many are stuck?” at last, a question of his own.

The fact that he would be assisting Megatron himself was an honor, and all the more reason to make sure this went without issue. Such a task seemed so below the Warlord, though it was certainly good for morale, he was sure.

[Megatron]

As they spoke, the two Decepticons descended even further down the refurbished ruins. The deeper they delved, the less structured their surroundings became. The debris enveloping them from all sides grew charred and brittle and the air smelled of ash. Surely, they must have been nearing an area where one of the charges had been set off. For this reason, Megatron's trepidation in bringing heavy machinery down here was not ill-conceived. However, it did mean that they would have to free the excavation team by themselves in its entirety...Presuming that the trapped Decepticons yet lived and that it was even possible to rescue them.

The Warlord started to consider that the risks may come to outweigh the benefits, but he wasn't given the necessary time to process that possibility as Flux had taken to asking a question of his own—to which Megatron promptly replied:

"We do not know the exact number as of now but the entire team adds up to six members. Prepare yourself for the eventuality that some of them may be beyond saving."

His words were spoken with ghastly dispassion—as if their lives meant nothing. Perhaps there was an ulterior motive for Megatron's visit—one beyond the call of duty, beyond charity, and beyond compassion—or maybe he wished to temper Flux's expectations. Whatever the real reason, he quietly hoped that the mech would remain focused only on his commands without pointless deviation. Megatron had no use for stubborn minions.

Not here, not for this assignment...or the next.

"Have you undertaken similar missions before, Flux?" He addressed him with shallow curiosity as they progressed further down. The light grew sparser here, but even then, one could easily observe the massive pile of rubber at the far back of the tunnel. They were nearly there. The collapse. The trap. From here-on, they would have to be careful. Very careful.

[Flux]

With careful footing, Flux would follow the Warlord as they moved deeper into the ruins. He kept his focus mostly on where Megatron was stepping, not wanting to accidentally step somewhere that was unstable and become a liability, but his gaze would occasionally drift to the surroundings, especially when the smell of ash crept into his attention.

Rescuing trapped miners.

He didn’t want to forget what he was here for before they’d even arrived, and would remind himself as he listened to Megatron. Six of them? That was doable, and should be easy work - well, maybe. The following words from the Warlord about how some of them may be beyond saving was disheartening, however, it unfortunately came with the line of work down here.

He would try to do what he could, though. Even if Megatron’s tone was one of seeming indifference toward the possible loss of life, Flux wouldn’t give up on anyone if there was even a chance.

At the question, his frame would tense ever so slightly as he continued to walk. Had he done anything like this before? Probably. He’d been through a lot during the war - they all had - and rescue missions were pretty normal. Could he remember doing it should Megatron want some sort of proof of his victories? No.

His first thought was Cintra, how a quiet comm to her would quickly give him the answer, as she would probably know - however this was the Warlord himself, and any hesitation or drawing out the reply would not be acceptable.

“Yes.” he replied, simply. “Though, t’be honest I can’t… uh, remember the details of said missions.” while admitting his weakness so openly - and to Megatron at that - was probably a mistake, at least it was limited to his processor, and his personnel files stated as such. His frame was sound, and he’d dutifully do any task asked of him - while he could remember what the task was, of course.

“Even so, I am sure this will be no problem. Small memory problems aside, it won't hinder my efforts here.” an almost nervous chuckle left him at that, before he awkwardly cleared his throat.

[Megatron]

For a while, Megatron did not answer, merely progressing toward the treacherous abyss. The light grew dim here. Farther still, dimmer and dimmer, until their optics could barely see...see what? A mountain of collapsed rock and metal. Thick beams of steel bent at unnatural angles, protruding from the soil like broken bones from an open wound. The walls of the tunnel ahead were eroded and creaked with an ominous call, a rumbling noise, or an echo of some kind. It was as though the Earth itself cried in protest to their presence here.

The Warlord assessed the damage first. It was...extensive. The collapse before them, though casting dark shadows in a fading light, was obviously beyond saving. They would have to work quickly to rescue whoever yet remained alive beyond the sealed breach. He needed no night vision to know that much.

He stepped closer still, and only then addressed Flux again.

"I often find that experience without memory makes for a poor teacher. Let us hope that you can prove me wrong," he said in a deep, droning voice. It echoed strongly, resonating with the creaking sounds of the unstable earth. This was Flux's invitation to perform his duties...The first of them, in any case.

Behind Megatron, the collapse towered from the ground to the ceiling, bathing him in ambient darkness. Two metal supports framed the remnants of what had been the tunnel. A third, broken frame protruded from the top. A broken rib. No doubt the poor support of this beam was what initially led to the collapse, piercing a proverbial trachea. Beyond these three structures, however, the rubble also contained metal plates and etched stone. It was not unlike the sort they had seen on their way here—the bones of a forgotten graveyard.

It was time to get to work. Megatron turned back to the destroyed wall. A harsh metallic snap cut through the air. His blade appeared from the mouth of his fusion cannon, mounted to the bottom. Without hesitation, he dug into the nearest boulder, bisecting it with speed and precision. It crumbled to the sides, revealing more debris beyond.

The first step of a long and arduous task.

[Flux]

Following Megatron further into the depths, Flux could only wonder just how far this mine system went. He’d worked on the forges back on Cybertron, which while deep - were nothing like this. Even if the conditions were just as treacherous and the work just as thankless, he had no frame of concept as to just where they were going.

It was getting pretty dark, though. The gentle glow of his minimal orange bio-lights offered very little in terms of light, which was probably a good thing - his optics adjusted with relative ease, and while he couldn’t see with as much detail as he’d of liked? It wasn’t going to hinder him any.

It wasn’t like there was much to see, anyway. A mountain of collapsed rock with beams of steel that had twisted and bent unnaturally, showing the sheer force behind the collapse. This’d come down quickly and without warning, and he could only hope that those on the other side were hanging in there.

Taking a moment in the silence to try and assess the damage - not that he knew what he was really looking at - he found himself wondering where to even start. It was far worse than he’d imagined now that they were actually here, which was probably why Megatron had called upon him to assist. Machinery would be too unstable, and the vibrations of such could make everything a hundred times worse to the point there was further collapse. No, they needed brute force and hard labor to even begin shifting this safely.

It was commendable and humbling that the Warlord himself was here. Whether or not it was because he cared about those on the other side remained to be seen, though it was good to know he wasn’t afraid of throwing himself into a task such as this.

Only when Megatron spoke did his gaze shift upward to the other mech, nodding.

“I’ll do my best, Lord Megatron.”

He wasn’t afraid of getting dirty or a little hard work - and was entirely willing to prove this fact. While he wasn’t looking to make a name for himself among the Decepticons, to be seen in a good light by Megatron was a good thing indeed, and he was sure Cintra would be proud of him, too.

As Megatron turned and the blade was produced, Flux would step forward - casting the imposing wall of rubble and metal in a gentle orange hue. He had no weapons that would be of use here - having only the one, which would serve to do more harm than good - and so would begin using his servos to grapple the rocks loosened by Megatron’s efforts, pulling them free, hurling them aside with ease, making sure to not block the path behind them.

They did want to get out of here in one piece, after all.

[Megatron]

And thus did they continue in their endeavor — only, their work didn't proceed uninterrupted for long. A few minutes passed and the wall of collapse and decay looked none-the-thinner. It was like a black hole, a void that fed on their efforts. They were past the event horizon now, and could not withdraw, but it sapped their strength to continue all the same.

No sign of the other side, no sign of life.

Megatron cut into the black stone again and again and struck metal in the end. One of the collapsed beams now jutted forth at half its length. They would need to remove it together to proceed further — to pull against the weight of gravity with their  combined force. Having seen this, Megatron moved forward, fastening one of his pronged boots to a rock directly beneath. He reached with his massive hands towards the cold iron formation and grabbed at the base, sword disappearing to accommodate the motions. He held onto it with both hands and looked at Flux over his mountainous shoulders, as far as they would allow him to do so.

"Get over here," he commanded with no discernible emotion safe for urgency, "...but have care. This area is more perilous now than ever."

He warned his underling and he stood prepared. All that remained was to tug when the other joined him.

...

Deep in the tunnel, a Vehicon hears the sound of hard labor. — His designation is LUC-148. He remembers the battles at Polyhex and Praxus. Decades in the trenches, the risk of death higher than at any point in his life, but he did not die then. — He is surrounded by pitch blackness and wants to scream, though no voice escapes from his vocalizer. His alien body wants not for air, but it is still suffocating after a fashion. His ventilation is dying, or perhaps his Energon is leaking. He does feel a wetness in his torso and a dull ache in his abdomen. Were the nerves severed? Was it merely a phantom pain? He cannot tell. He cannot see. He must conserve his strength. He returns to rest and waits. — For what? Release? Death? Rescue? — He does not finish the thought and slips quietly into the darkness. — He did not die then, but today he might.

[Flux]

Working tirelessly and without complaint, Flux would do what was expected of him. He was dutiful in his work, not only because of who was with him - but because of the urgency of the task at hand.

That wasn’t to say he wasn’t careful, though, even despite the almost nagging desperation to help those trapped. Between the expertise of Megatron and his own care taken in where he placed the loosened rocks - not wanting to inadvertently wall in their own escape should things go wrong - they would continue to work.

…Though, it seemed like they were going nowhere. At least not fast. The more the Warlord dug, the more endless the rock seemed to be. Still, though, Flux would assist - with no words or grumbles of worry that this didn’t seem to be working.

Until a different noise cut through the rhythmic digging - this time, blade hit metal instead of stone, and it was then that the Warlord paused, and a command was given that Flux was quick to listen to.

“Right!”

Setting aside a chunk of rock, he moved over as quickly as he could manage, orange optics looking over just what Megatron had struck. Even despite the lack of real lighting, he could see it was a beam of some sort, one that was hindering their progress of moving forward. It looked well and truly wedged in among the scattered rocks, a victim of the collapse - though part of him wondered if it was also acting as a sort of support. It needed to be moved, but there was always the risk of further cave-in once it had been dislodged.

Tensing his frame, he would move to grab where he could on the awkwardly placed beam - between the two of them it should be no issue to move. His mass, combined with Megatron’s strength should make easy work, though he wouldn’t do anything until ordered, given the delicate nature of the task at hand. Then, and only then would he pull - ready to brace for falling rock or whatever else could go horribly wrong.

[Megatron]

Together, they pull. A colossus and his master. A leviathan and his servant. The cavern roars in protest like a dread beast. For a moment, it felt as if though it may collapse and bury them both, thus ending an ancient conquest spanning stars. It did not. The risk was calculated and they were free to breathe a sigh of relief.

Megatron did not sigh with relief. Instead, as soon as the worst was past, he let go of the broken metal bone in his hand and cast it aside, trusting Flux to pull it back so far that it would not impede their work. For his part, he continued to carving stone.

Several thick layers of refuse still separated him from the first victim, whose time was running short. Even though he did not know that the Vehicon down there was suffering and exhausted, he dug with the ferocity of Megatron, and the ferocity of Megatron certainly seemed like the kind of determination one would have for the rescue of a friend.

He had only one friend, and he did not rest at the bottom of this dig. Even still, whether it was for the sake of his servant or whatever they had unearthed deeper within Haven, Megatron toiled tirelessly, and as he did, he finally spoke again to his loyal Flux:

"You do not waste time with talk..."

I seem to have chosen well, he thinks for the briefest moment, but continues quickly—before he can get too self-assured with his choice of laborer.

"...But is it as much a matter of efficiency for you as it is for me, I wonder," he interrupts himself sharply, sword cutting through a collapsed concrete wall, "Or do you fear your master?"

He did not say anything more and continued as if nothing had happened. His expression, shrouded in darkness, revealed nothing of the intentions behind the sentence. Perhaps he was testing Flux... intellectually? Emotionally?

Why?

[Flux]

Even though Flux wasn’t used to this kind of work - moving stone, that is - he found it strangely rewarding, even despite this newfound challenge. Be that because of just who he was with or another reason remained to be seen, but he worked dutifully, giving it everything he had. They worked wordlessly, almost in tune with one another to the point no directives were needed - and even in that moment there where it felt like they were to be buried, they pushed on regardless.

Freeing the beam without incident.

Should he have been here alone, or with another, he was certain that things would have ended badly. But with Megatron’s expertise, it was easy enough work, though he would not take it for granted. After all, who knew what lay ahead. This was just one obstruction, and he was certain there would be more.

As the Warlord released his grip on the metal to continue with what he had been doing previously, Flux would move forward - his own grip tightening as he wrenched it back and away. He took care in his movements, not wanting to move it too quickly, nor accidentally clip the other mech in the process.

Setting it down carefully to one side, so it did not clang or cause unneeded vibrations throughout the already unstable stone, Flux would then make his way back over to the Warlord, ready to assist with the removal of rocks once more. Expecting further directive - wordless or otherwise - he tensed some at the words spoken. A moment of hesitance, his mouth opened to reply - only for Megatron to continue.

Fear? No.

Shaking his helm, he would shift his weight ever so slightly as his frame relaxed - rotors twitching behind himself, almost betraying the fact he’d been caught off guard.

“Cintra talks enough for the both of us most of the time. I ain’t one to waste time with idle words.” he started, moving to pick up a relatively large chunk of rock that’d been jostled free.

“Unless you want conversation to fill the quiet, course - in which case I can work and talk as good as any.”

He was second-guessing bringing up Cintra, and for a flicker of a moment there wondered if he should fear the mech before him - if only for her sake. Despite this, he showed no signs of nervousness as he set the rock down to one side. Taking the brief moment of productivity to mull over his next words, and the question that’d been asked.

It was a question he hadn’t ever needed to really consider before. At least, not til now.

“Should I fear you, Lord Megatron?” a question of his own, though he would continue.

“I respect you, and the cause. Fear, though?” he shook his helm.

“No.”

[Megatron]

"Should you?" The Warlord repeated.

"You would not be the first to respond otherwise and I would not begrudge you the answer." Megatron let the words sail on the stagnant cavern air before concluding with a single sentence: "Fear can be healthy in moderation."

Healthy... That was an understatement. Often, it was the only thing that could keep one alive, or so the Decepticon tyrant believed. As he cut into the stone again, something deep within the tunnel stirred. It was a voice, a faint agonized cry. Megatron did not hesitate to crash into the pile again and again, sword rearing to slash away the debris. His speed was a response. Urgency. He expected Flux to match it.

They needed to dig...

Deeper... Deeper...

Deeper...

LUC-148 bleeds. He knows this now. He hears the voices of a comrade and a leader, far and faded. In foolish desperation, he tries to resist the push of the rock and the pull of the grave. His will falters, he gasps for Energon that does not come. There is no vial nor cube nor needle to prick one's veins with. The only thing that pricks is the inside of his abdomen. Amidst the dull pain, something fresh stirs. He hurts himself by moving and now he is losing time, rapidly. Desperately, he cries out in—pain? No, this ran deeper than pain. He cries out in fear and for an accursed eternity, it keeps his weak Spark running. He does not know whether he will see the light of day again, but he fears death far too much to meet it.