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Megatron spits out his energon. His resounding shout sends everyone in his vicinity fleeing. “ Overlord?!”
Calls from Twitch and Thrash were a part of his daily routine now, that the two Terrans had their own comm. devices installed. He’d been engrossed in some poetry and enjoying a serving of energon when they’d called, and picked up instantly. Looking down at the datapad, Megatron is a tad saddened to see he cracked the screen. At least he didn’t outright break it, so the contents aren’t lost forever. It is one of the finer works preserved from before the war, and it would be a shame to see it gone because Megatron panicked. He resets his vocalizer with a click. “You called me to—to ask me about a mech named Overlord?” he hopes he sounds inquisitive, as if he doesn’t know who they mean. Perhaps they’d forget about his outburst, too.
There’s a moment of silence at the other end. Frowning, Megatron thinks he might’ve scared them off. “Twitch? Thrash?”
“Sorry!” answers Twitch hastily, and Megatron’s shoulders sag in relief. “I nodded. You can’t see me, of course. Awkward!”
Megatron chuckles. “It’s alright, little bird. Now, what did you two want to ask me about again?” Megatron expertly tries to move the topic away from Overlord, or at least, keep it light-hearted. As if that… beast, a black mark on his own history, one of his greatest achievements and mistakes in one, had never existed.
“Could you come over?” Thrash asks, a little panicked, “Uh, sir?”
“Please?” Twitch chimes in. “What if h-he comes for us?! W-we wouldn’t stand a ch-chance!”
Megatron rubs his forehead and sighs. He quickly checks his schedule before answering. “All right, all right, I will be there shortly. Please, settle down. I don’t know of any Overlord, thus neither of you is in imminent danger.”
“M-maybe he wiped your memory!” Twitch gasps.
“Can he?!” asks Thrash, equally as panicked.
Megatron grimaces. He wouldn’t count it out. Saying his goodbyes and promising he’ll be there within the cycle, Megatron takes off. He doesn’t need to navigate to the Malto’s home anymore; he knows the way to the place by spark. In stark contrast to GHOST’s cold headquarters, the Malto’s home is inviting and oozes warmth, even toward someone like him.
When Megatron lands, he notices that Twitch and Thrash aren’t alone. Robby and Mo are with them, as are Dot and her husband, the latter of which looks extremely apologetic. The Autobot scout, Bumblebee, holds a comic book in his hands, his optics wide at its contents. “They show this to kids?!” he blurts in disbelief and throws the issue to Megatron. Alex Malto cringes as the comic is tossed so carelessly, unseen to the outraged mechs.
Megatron’s reaction is equally as disturbed as that of Bumblebee’s, except he has enough restraint to keep it to himself. He doesn’t remember the events as he wasn’t there himself, but plenty of first-hand accounts had informed him that yes, yes, things were truly this awful. He cycles through pages full of art containing the horrors of Garrus-9 and has to shutter his optics. Guilt squeezes his spark tight, and his servos tremble as anxiety threatens to overtake him. He draws a deep vent and looks over at the two Terrans, forcing himself to keep his composure for their sakes. He offers them a tentative smile. No one reciprocates.
Megatron clears his throat-tubing. Given Alex Malto’s reaction, Megatron surmises the issues may belong to him, so he carefully gives them back to the man. “The… ahem, creativity is certainly… there,” he lamely comments. Bumblebee narrows his optics at him.
“Where did you find these?” Alex asks the Terrans, hands trembling around the issue titled ‘Last Stand of the Wreckers’. Given what happened after, the title is a tad misleading, Megatron thinks, suppressing a sour chuckle.
“It was with all the others,” Robby explains for them, stepping in front of Twitch. “It’s not their fault, you, uh, probably left it there? Dad?” Alex goes pale. Dot stares, her eyes full of silent rage. Though it isn’t directed at him, Megatron shivers.
“M-m-mister Megatron!” Thrash calls then, his voice much higher in pitch than usual. “I-is Overlord… real?”
Dot glares at him. As does Bumblebee. The rest stare at him in anticipation, unaware of the answer. Megatron raises his servos and shakes his helm. “No—”
“What if that’s what he wants you to say?!” Twitch cuts in, panicked. “W-what if h-he… succeeded?!” Thrash gasps loudly.
“Overlord did not succeed at anything,” Megatron bitterly says, but amends his tone when he catches another glare from Dot and Bumblebee. “...Because he doesn’t exist?”
“That’s right, kids. Listen to Megs, he would know,” Dot says.
“I fought in the war, front and center, and I never encountered an Overlord,” Bumblebee supplies. Alex looks at him with starstruck eyes.
Only because he’d never gotten to Earth, thinks Megatron bitterly. He keeps his thoughts to himself. His intrusive thoughts are starting to sound an awful lot like a mech who he’s trying to convince the Maltos doesn’t exist. For a supposed fictional character, he’s sure got a defined personality, and a voice to match.
“If mister Megatron says he doesn’t exist, he doesn’t exist, right?” says Mo, looking up at him. Megatron nods.
“So he’s definitely never been on earth. We would know, wouldn’t we?”
“Definitely seems like the obnoxious type.” Robby nods. Bumblebee scoffs.
“It could be a trick! He went in a teleporter!” Twitch tells them, waving the issue ‘ Requiem of the Wreckers’ around. “W-w-what if he teleported… here?”
“Is Overlord here with us right now?!” whispers Thrash aggressively, whipping his helm around with his optics wide.
“G-g-g-give us a s-s-s-sign!” Twitch adds, her back to Thrash’s, the resounding hum that of her battle protocols coming online.
Megatron groans, pinching his nasal ridge. “Overlord is not here with us, because he doesn’t exist,” he tells them, trying to banish the rougher edges in his tone to be at least slightly reassuring.
“Kids, it’s okay. Even if something like Overlord existed, you got us to protect you,” Dot says, smiling patiently.
“But he doesn’t exist,” Bumblebee says pointedly. Dot nods.
“He doesn’t exist.”
Slowly, the Terrans seem to believe them, as Megatron hears their battle systems offline, and both Mo and Robby appear more at ease. Something about the link between their emotions, Megatron presumes.
“Okay?” Dot asks.
“Okay…” Thrash nods.
“But… but what about… Tarantulas?!” Twitch asks, opening the issue again and flipping to a page where the arachnid is in clear view. Megatron has to admit, he isn’t too familiar with the scientist. To hear he’s paired up with Overlord shocks him, but as Twitch explains how it ended, Megatron suppresses the need to sigh and roll his optics. Of course.
A look of recognition flashes across Robby’s face and he groans. “Oooh, so that’s why…”
Everyone turns to him, inquisitive looks on their faces. Dot’s lips are pursed, and her hands are set firmly on her sides. Robby explains, hands raised in an effort to placate especially his mom. “Twitch’s been acting real weird around spiders. Like, real weird. Yells at them to leave me alone, standing guard outside my room… we don’t even get tarantulas around here!” Twitch and Thrash both flinch at the mention of that name. Robby sighs, whispering a quiet “sorry”.
“Yeah,” Mo chimes in, “not like that , anyway.”
Realization hits Dot and her eyes go wide. She turns to her husband, who pointedly avoids her gaze. Shaking with quiet rage, she asks, “You let them read it?!”
Before Alex has a chance to defend himself, Robby cuts in. “No, mom, it’s fine! I only showed Mo the safe parts.”
“Besides, mister Megatron said it’s just a comic, right?” Mo adds, looking at the mech in question, who tentatively nods his head and gives an awkward chuckle.
“Indeed! A work of fiction, nothing more.” He, too, avoids Dot’s gaze, his own optics fixed on the barn’s exterior. He almost comments on its craftsmanship to redirect the conversation. “Fiction,” he says again, quieter and a little less certain.
Robby frowns at him, and Bumblebee hangs his helm.
Fiction, repeats the Overlord in his intrusive thoughts, mocking his tone.
Later, when they’ve put the issues away and the Terrans are out with Mo, Robby, and Bumblebee, Dot and Megatron linger behind.
“About this Overlord,” Dot begins, looking up at Megatron. “Hypothetically, if he was here. How bad would it be? And be real with me.”
Megatron’s gaze turns scarily solemn. He draws a deep in-vent. “I’m afraid you wouldn’t want to know.”
Dot closes her eyes. “That bad, huh.”
Megatron half expects Overlord to pop up and jovially proclaim his non-existence before tearing into him. He did always love appearing unannounced, striking fear in the hearts of those present before—well. Best to leave that up to the imagination.
“I’m going to sweep the area,” Megatron says. “Just in case. For the little ones.”
“Mmhm,” Dot doesn’t sound convinced. “Right. For the children.”