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Summary
The day Damus was taken, was the same day he lost to Megatron. Damus had startled his concentration after forcing his side of the bond down so quickly that it made Overlord look towards the direction. Away from the focus he should have had on his opponent.
:: O-Overlord! :: Damus’s terrified voice clawed desperately through their bond. Sounding scared in a way he’s never heard before.
The crowd was screaming. Eager for a fight. For spilled energon staining the coliseum.
:: Overlord! Help! Overlord! :: Damus screamed into the bond. Fear and sheer panic flowing like the rapids of energon without restraint before it abruptly went dead.
He vowed he’d get revenge. Told Megatron that to his face. But he wasn’t entirely certain who he was talking to as he stormed out to the Opera House his Conjunx had been excitedly telling him about for as long as he had been willing to listen.
Or, what if Damus had been a medic and always had the ability to talk people to death?