At first, Megatron's arguments were halting, his points crude.
But as the discussion deepened, a familiar, sharp clarity returned to him. The fundamental rift that would one day define them was already forming.
Orion Pax spoke with earnest conviction. "The Council of Elders must be made to listen."
"We communicate, we propose policies that address the inequities. We can resolve this, Megatron."
"We must minimize casualties, Cybertron itself cannot afford another wound."
"Listen?" Megatron's optics narrowed. "They are deafened by their own privilege, Orion."
"The functionists won't surrender their power, and the gladiators in Kaon won't abandon their fight for survival. They see no other way."
"You offer dialogue to those who have already stopped their ears. The only language they will understand is a decisive solution."
Bumblebee's optics remained fixed, his memory banks recording every word, every flicker of emotion on their faceplates.
Garfield watched with the keen eye of a seasoned observer.
He let the silence stretch for a moment after Megatron finished before he spoke.
"The debate has run its course," Garfield stated, his voice calm but carrying a weight that silenced them both.
"You both feel the urgency for change, and you're correct. But your paths, as you've laid them out, are incomplete."
"Please, enlighten us." Orion Pax inclined his head.
Megatron's optics narrowed further, but he gave a curt nod. "Please guide me."
With a casual flick, Garfield produced a teaching pointer from his youth and conjured the illusion of a chalkboard.
In an instant, the cat was transformed, no longer an observer, but a mentor of thought.
"Let me show you the flaws in your logic. They are, in part, born of your very frames." He tapped the board.
"Orion. Your core programming is civic, construction. Your worldview is one of building, of peaceful process."
"But a revolution built on policy alone, without the strength to back it, is nothing. To those who would tear it down, you are simply soft."
"A mud wall they can crumble with a single blow."
A flicker of sadness crossed Orion's face. Megatron allowed himself a small, satisfied gleam in his optics.
Garfield didn't even glance at him before he continued. "And you, Megatron."
The satisfaction in Megatron's optics vanished, replaced by wary attention. "Your core is military, forged in the pits."
"Your instinct is to shatter. But force without a vision to guide it is just chaos. You become indistinguishable from the very thugs you despise."
"The corrupt will paint you as a common rabble-rouser, a threat to order. And the masses, who might otherwise support your cause, will see only destruction and turn against you."
"They will be used as a righteous shield to strike you down."
The weight of Garfield's words hung in the air between them.
"Force and policy," Garfield declared, tapping the board again. "They are not opposing choices."
"They are two halves of a whole. A revolution requires both."
He pointed the pointer at Orion. "You need to forge a shield strong enough to protect your banner of change so that your policies can be heard and implemented."
He swung the pointer toward Megatron. "And you need to raise a banner."
"A vision so powerful that it rallies companions to your side and turns your sword into a righteous instrument of creation, not just destruction."
"First, you make your voice heard. You gather those who believe."
"You spread your ideals until they become a beacon."
"When that beacon is bright enough, and the shield around it is strong enough, then and only then can you send your voice across all of Cybertron."
"The path of change is never a straight line. It will be filled with twists, with setbacks, with moments where even you two will find yourselves on opposite sides of a canyon."
"When that day comes, I pray you remember this moment. Remember that you were brothers before you were leaders."
"Do not let your differences become the chasm that breaks you both."
Garfield let the silence return, heavier and more profound than before. He then placed the pointer on an invisible desk.
"Now," he said, his voice softening slightly. "Put your heads together and study this."
With a flourish, he presented a single, data-solid book.
The Lessons of Those Who Came Before.