Sensors

Megatron’s eyes narrowed. “Give me your word you won’t move from that spot for thirty-nine seconds,” he said softly. “And that’s an order.”

“You have my word,” Cyclonus said instantly.

Megatron rose and aimed his fusion cannon directly at his head. The circuitry engaged, lights flickering along the length of the massive bulk of the weapon as it drove to full power. Cyclonus looked into the mouth of death and considered the situation: was it his duty to break his word and move, knowing that if he died here, his knowledge of the future died with him? But he had already provided the necessary information to stop the battle of Autobot City almost certainly for long enough for Ironhide to seek out Unicron. Cyclonus had broken the chain that led to the fall of the Decepticon Empire. All that he could be certain would be lost now would be the hope of Galvatron’s restoration. But Galvatron’s restoration was his personal duty, not his duty as a Decepticon officer…The choice had to be made: the firing circuitry was engaging, and in precisely zero-point-eight-six astroseconds more, Megatron would no longer be able to halt the ignition sequence—

Starscream burst into the room. “Megatron, if you don’t do some—” and stopped, staring open-mouthed, just as Megatron carefully kicked Cyclonus’s left foot slightly out from under him, tilting him aside as the cannon erupted, roaring two microns past the edge of his helm and searing right past Starscream’s head as well, to shoot through the open doorway and blast a massive hole through the interior wall of the hall beyond.