Megatron was tired. He was tired of it all!
Tired of defeat. Tired of failure. Tired of humiliation. Tired of victory avoiding his grasp even when everything else fell perfectly into place – that is, until he would arrive at the last fragging minute.
No matter his efforts, Megatron couldn't beat him. No matter what he tried, Megatron couldn't stop him from ruining his plans.
The silver mech glared at a holoscreen that displayed him: Optimus Prime. He studied this young 'Bot, trying to comprehend how it was possible this space bridge repair bot could somehow best him in battle. In the Great Wars he fought countless Primes – all of which never managed to defeat him as many times as this Optimus (and certainly didn't anger him like this one mech did)!
. . . Non-muscular frame . . . young age from which he experienced basically no real battle . . . the only weapon being a measly axe, excluding those accessories on the arms . . . overall a body unfit for battle . . . How? How could this small, young, naïve Autobot possibly manage to live through a battle with Megatron – much less beat him?
It was unthinkable! Unfathomable!
It angered Megatron that this could happen. Not once. Not twice. Not even three times – but four times Megatron had to taste bitter defeat by the servos of this forsaken mech!
He couldn't stand it. It racked his processor to study and understand this mech; to know how he worked – inside and out – in order to finally defeat him and rid himself of this 'Bot once and for all. At one time Shockwave gave him information on Optimus: that he was expelled from the Elite Guard as a punishment for breaking a vital rule – and losing a fellow cadet. But what good would this do him?
He wanted to know everything! Everything to take Optimus down, for humiliating him continuously in his "ever-valiant" effort to repel whatever plans Megatron had in store. But whatever information he collected was not enough. Again and Again Optimus defeated him; kept the All-Spark from his grasp, destroyed his space bridge, and destroyed his Omega Supreme clones. And at that time he was imprisoned for an amount of time before his followers issued an unexpected prison break.
Never had Megatron met anyone he hated this much.
What was this Prime's secret? In every encounter he calculated how to combat Optimus with whatever knowledge he'd gained, but it was all futile. What was it? That fragging team work morale he boasted constantly? The brief experience from being a temporary Elite Guard cadet?
No . . . that made no sense . . .
His optics turned to slits and a grimace forming on his face plates, the silver mech stood up from his seat near the console and pounded onto the controls with one ferocious punch. "How?" he asked the holoscreen.
Of course it didn't answer. But that didn't stop Megatron from continuing to ask how. Damaged circuits and wires buzzed under his tightened fist, and his digits raked over the bent metal in frustration. He just couldn't understand. And it angered him.
From the opened door Shockwave hesitated to step inside. "My lord –"
"What is it?" Megatron snapped irritably.
The single-optic 'Con paused before reporting, "All is well with our new base, despite we are forced to build it on Earth."
"Is that all?"
" . . . Yes, Lord Megatron."
"Then leave me alone."
Shockwave bowed and exited the room, giving a small glance to his leader that kept a deranged amount of attention to the screen displaying his rival.