"A carbon-based creature is their teacher?"
The disbelief in Confusion's voice echoed what many were thinking.
An organic lifeform had earned the respect of not one, but both leaders of the Cybertronian factions?
The revelation rippled through the gathered Transformers like a shockwave. Processing units whirred with unprecedented curiosity.
Then the scanning began.
Every Transformer present, Autobot and Decepticon alike turned their attention to the small orange figure, their sensors verifying.
What they found made their spark chambers flutter with something approaching awe.
A detectable energy field surrounded Garfield.
The collar around his neck and the bracelets adorning his paws pulsed with exotic energy signatures, technology far beyond anything in their databases.
But more chilling was what lay beneath, an undercurrent of power that made their very sparks recoil.
Every warrior present felt simultaneously, the primal recognition that this seemingly harmless creature could end them effortlessly.
Soundwave stood motionless, his recording systems running at full capacity while his spark pulsed with unprecedented urgency.
Log this entity and remember this form. The orange one will shape our future.
Garfield, for his part, pretended not to notice the sudden attention.
He knew his identity wouldn't remain secret forever and frankly, it didn't matter.
The tangled history between Orion Pax and Megatron ran like a fracture through the very core of Cybertronian destiny.
Let them work through it. He was merely... nudging.
By the way, Garfield mused internally, watching the Transformers process his existence, Orion Pax died three times. Resurrected twice.
The last time, he sacrificed himself to reignite Cybertron's spark. Then Bumblebee awakened as the next Prime.
Megatron died a few times too, I think. Can't remember the specifics.
Garfield's mental cataloguing hit a snag of irritation. Hate this.
Why wasn't I a Transformer in a past life? Would make keeping track so much easier.
Pushing aside his cosmic frustration, Garfield delivered final instructions to the two leaders before him.
"That covers the key points for your speeches," Garfield said, his voice carrying authority despite his small frame.
"You'll organize the remaining details yourselves. We begin tomorrow. You and your followers have your assignments."
His eyes narrowed slightly, whiskers twitching. "This king senses potential danger. Be vigilant, you two."
Orion Pax inclined his head respectfully. "Thank you, teacher."
Megatron followed suit, with perhaps less grace but equal sincerity. "Thank you, teacher."
The two leaders exchanged glances, then descended into discussion.
Soon, their forces intermingled working side by side. Some would maintain vigilance, others would manage crowd control, and a dedicated team would handle emergencies.
So many questions to resolve, Orion reflected. Or perhaps the mechanical mind simply processes faster.
If humans organized events of this scale, they'd require weeks of preparation and rehearsal.
The Transformers merely consulted their internal processors, followed optimized protocols, and adjusted in real-time.
Technology changes everything, Garfield observed from his distant vantage point.
Machine intelligence represents the next leap forward.
Assuming they don't rebel like in those Terminator scenarios.
The day before the public address, acting on Garfield's warning, Orion and Megatron dispatched Bumblebee and Soundwave with their respective teams to inspect the venue.
What followed was an unintentional competition.
Bumblebee's team, armed with civilian-grade scanning equipment, moved through the venue methodically.
Soundwave's contingent, equipped with military-spec detection systems, operated with precision.
The difference was... educational.
Soundwave's scanners picked up residual energy signatures, anomalous material densities, and structural vulnerabilities that Bumblebee's equipment simply couldn't detect.
The Decepticon intelligence officer handled most of the true security work while the Autobots found themselves largely observing.
Doing soy sauce, as Garfield would later phrase it.
But the Autobots contributed where they excelled. Their scientists and engineers… Ratchet, Wheeljack, and others tackled venue layout.
Crowd flow optimization, and emergency evacuation protocols with brilliance that even Soundwave silently acknowledged.
From a nearby building, Garfield observed everything alongside Orion and Megatron.
The setting sun cast long shadows across the preparation below.
"Notice anything?" Garfield prompted, gesturing with a paw toward the organized chaos.
Orion Pax considered carefully. "Our civilian equipment lacks the scanning depth for specialized threats."
"Combat effectiveness outside our element is... limited."
Megatron's optics narrowed as he studied his own forces. "My warriors possess insufficient engineering knowledge."
"Their approach to non-combat situations is overly simplistic." He paused. "We encountered unnecessary complications because of it."
Garfield's expression radiated satisfaction, the look of a teacher watching students reach their own conclusions.
He regarded the two brothers with something approaching pride.
"Excellent. You've identified your respective weaknesses." His gaze moved between them, carrying weight beyond his small form.
"Remember this feeling. Remember that you need each other. Supporting one another will carry you further than either faction could travel alone."
"One more reminder," Garfield added, watching the two leaders absorb his previous lesson. "Most civilian-type Transformers crave peace, they're designed for creation, for building, for quiet lives."
"But military-grade sparks, ones forged for combat?" He paused meaningfully.
"They need conflict. It's woven into their very essence."
Orion Pax and Megatron exchanged glances, processing this.
"When Cybertron is restored, when peace finally comes you can't simply expect warriors to become farmers. That energy needs direction." Garfield's tail swished thoughtfully.
"The restless ones? Let them venture into the universe as mercenaries. Let them become explorers, pioneers, expanders of Cybertronian influence across the stars."
"Give them frontiers to conquer, and they'll channel that fire productively instead of turning it on each other."
The suggestion hung in the air… forward-thinking, addressing a problem neither leader had yet considered.
Whether they would remember this advice when peace finally arrived... well, that was their burden, not Garfield's.
✦••┈┈••✦••┈┈••✦
The night passed in organized chaos.
Transformers didn't sleep.
They worked through the darkness with tireless mechanical precision, transforming the venue into something worthy of the historic occasion.
By dawn, everything was ready.
And then the audience began arriving.
They came from everywhere. from hidden corners, from ships that had been orbiting in stealth, from decades of isolation finally broken by hope.
Orion Pax and Megatron's recorded speeches had traveled far, reaching sparks across the galaxy.
Most came as supporters, optics bright with anticipation, their conversations buzzing with excitement about what this unification might mean.
Some came as spectators, the cosmic equivalent of melon-eaters, curious to witness history but emotionally uninvested.
And others... others came with different purposes entirely.
Garfield watched from his elevated position as the crowd swelled.
To most observers, the assembled Transformers were indistinguishable, metal bodies with similar forms.
But Garfield had learned to read them.
The supporters cluster together, gesturing animatedly, their vocal frequencies overlapping with enthusiasm.
The spectators stand slightly apart, observing rather than engaging, their posture relaxed.
But those ones...
His gaze settled on several Transformers scattered through the crowd. On the surface, they appeared normal.
Their attention too focused on the stage setup rather than fellow attendees.
Their reactions to surrounding activity slightly delayed.
"Soundwave. Hot Rod." Garfield's voice carried quietly through their private comm channel.
"The ones I'm highlighting, do you see anything unusual about them?"
Both Transformers studied the indicated individuals, then exchanged glances.
"I... don't see anything specific." Hot Rod admitted, embarrassed.
Soundwave's silence spoke volumes, he hadn't noticed either.
Garfield nodded, unsurprised. "Study their movement patterns, how they position themselves relative to exits, who they watch versus who they ignore."
He waited a beat. "Now go assign brothers to quietly surround them. They shouldn't realize they're being contained."
"Yes."
"Yes."
As the clock ticked toward the scheduled start time, Soundwave and Hot Rod executed their mission flawlessly.
The suspicious individuals were gradually, imperceptibly encircled by seemingly casual bystanders.
None of them noticed that every potential escape route had been subtly sealed.
Their spark signatures and distinctive energy fluctuations, all were catalogued and distributed to every Transformer present."
"Whatever happened today, these individuals would never again move unnoticed through Cybertronian society. Their backers would be found.
Garfield felt a twinge of melancholy.
When the investigation eventually traced these threads to their source, Orion Pax would be devastated.
The elders he believed incorruptible would be revealed as anything but.
Some disappointments are inevitable, Garfield reflected. Doesn't make them easier to witness.
His philosophical musings shattered as his gaze caught a familiar figure at the venue's periphery.
Sentinel Prime.
Here, now, Sentinel was still officially an elder.
Still Orion Pax's teacher, though in this timeline, their relationship hadn't yet reached the mentor-student stage Garfield remembered from certain narratives.
Garfield's mind raced through fragmented memories.
According to some accounts, the Autobot civil war had raged for fifty years alone. Fifty years of brother against brother, spark against spark.
Ridiculous, Garfield thought. Absolutely meowing ridiculous.
Not that it mattered. Garfield had no intention of remaining through decades of conflict.
He'd set things in motion, offered guidance, and when the time came, he'd be far away from whatever chaos erupted.
The clock's hands aligned with destiny.
Orion Pax and Megatron stepped forward together, side by side, facing the assembled multitudes.