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Inside the underground laboratory, a line of Transformers stood in front of Ethan, facing off against Megatron.
Though it could hardly be called a face-off.
Confronted with the hostility the others showed, Megatron, still lying on the fabrication cradle, didn't even care to rise. It was as though, in its eyes, these fine Cybertronian warriors couldn't pose it the slightest threat.
But when its gaze fell on that small creature, a fresh instinct rose in the newly woken machine.
He was its Creator. It should submit to this short being.
And yet its innate arrogance would not simply allow it to bow to any creature. On one side, internal instinct. On the other, natural pride. The two impulses collided violently inside Megatron's mind.
Watching the conflicted machine, Ethan, in the Mark VII, had a thread of cold sweat on his brow.
He regretted it a little now. Why had he been so impulsive back then and chosen Megatron? If he'd waited a bit longer and gone for Optimus Prime, with that one's righteous character, even a refusal to submit wouldn't have come with an attack. He wouldn't be as tense as he was at this moment.
The standoff dragged on, second by second.
Finally, Megatron on the cradle seemed to reach a decision. It stood, and strode toward Ethan.
In height alone, Megatron held no advantage among its kind. At just under twelve meters, it was merely on par with Decepticons like Blackout. But as it moved, not a single Transformer dared relax. They all knew this one's combat power could not be measured by size.
Seeing Megatron close the distance, Blackout couldn't hold back.
"Newcomer. Stop where you are. Come any closer and don't blame us for what follows."
Its faceplate dropped, and the long blade came off its back, already set for battle. Beside it, Ironhide and the rest shifted into combat posture, ready to strike the instant this one made a wrong move.
Facing its fully armed kin, there was no flicker in the Decepticon leader's eyes, as though they carried no weight of deterrence at all.
At roughly thirty meters from Ethan, Megatron stopped. And then, under the stunned gazes of every Transformer present, this impossibly powerful newcomer dropped to one knee and lowered its head toward Ethan.
"Master. Megatron is at your disposal."
Seeing the Decepticon leader kneel, an enormous weight lifted off Ethan's chest. The System had successfully overwritten this one after all. Given Megatron's character in the original accounts, it would never have submitted to a creature weaker than itself.
Seeing the newcomer's hostility fade, the rest of the Transformers exhaled. This was the best outcome. A clash with this one, even with their numbers, was not something they'd been sure of winning.
Megatron's submission secured, Ethan didn't hesitate. He immediately ordered J.A.R.V.I.S. to seed a self-destruct routine in its mind. This one was a high-risk individual, formidable and cunning and tyrannical in equal measure. Every precaution was warranted.
Megatron opened its mental defenses on command, and J.A.R.V.I.S. dived in.
One second. Two seconds. As the time stretched, Ethan sensed something off. Seeding a self-destruct routine normally took three to five seconds. This time, a full five minutes had passed on his watch.
What was going on? Was Megatron deceiving him? Had it never opened its defenses at all, never truly meant to submit?
Just as Ethan's thoughts began to spiral, J.A.R.V.I.S. finally answered.
"My apologies, sir. The complexity of this Transformer's cognitive architecture is on an entirely different order from the previous units. At my current stage of evolution, I cannot penetrate deep enough to seat the self-destruct routine properly."
Ethan felt a jolt of surprise. As expected of a top-tier Cybertronian. Even with every defense open, the strongest artificial intelligence on Earth couldn't fully breach it.
While Ethan was absorbing that, J.A.R.V.I.S. spoke again.
"Sir, although I can't reach the deeper regions, I can seed a partial routine within my limit. It won't pose a fatal threat to this Transformer. But it can still generate a degree of interference when needed."
Ethan could only nod. There was no other option.
That done, Ethan, still in the armor, finally dared step forward to examine the Decepticon leader up close. Taking in Megatron's cold lines and the terrifying weaponry folded into its chassis, he was satisfied no matter how he looked at it.
"Megatron."
"I am here, Master."
It answered with respect.
Counting Megatron, Ethan now had eight Transformers under his command. Before, with only a few, he hadn't bothered dividing them into any real structure. But now.
"Our family is growing. Our numbers are climbing. To keep everyone's roles clear, I'm dividing the Transformers present into two factions."
The Transformers gave him their full attention.
"Megatron. Blackout. Bonecrusher. Barricade."
The four stepped forward at their names.
"From here on, you four are one faction. Decepticons. That is your name. Megatron leads. I expect the Decepticons to become the sharp sword in my hand, carrying the work of conquest beyond these walls."
A flash of fervor lit the four machines' eyes, and Megatron answered without wavering.
"Yes, Master. I swear it on my existence. The Decepticons will clear every obstacle from the road ahead of you."
Ethan nodded, satisfied, and turned to the other four.
"Bumblebee. Jazz. Ratchet. Ironhide. You four are the second faction. Autobots. Ironhide takes the lead for now. If the Decepticons are the sword, you are the shield. The safety of this laboratory, and of me, rests with you from this point on."
The four Transformers took on a solemn cast and answered in kind.