In a dimly lit room, two legendary figures sit close, yet far enough away, from each other. Each individual keeping an eye fixed upon one another for a show of the first sign of treachery. It is the second figure, clad in red and blue armor, that breaks the silence.

"I asked for this meeting," he said waving his hand peacefully, "in the chance to better understand you. We have met on the battlefield countless times, and yet I must honestly tell you that I do not understand the reasons for which you commit what I consider to be crimes. Indeed, I can understand the outer layer, the "need for conquest," strength through battle, "Peace through tyranny," but those are merely slogans, words attached to a deeper meaning for which I must know ..." the immense figures eyes blazed solid blue ... "what drives you." The other figure leaned forward, closing his face to the other's. Frigid cold surrounded each of the following words.

"After all of these thousands of years, the great and mighty Optimus Prime wishes to know what "drives" Megatron? A black and silver fist thust into the air. "This, Optimus Prime ... this is what drives me. Power. That which is not strong will perish, and it falls to beings such as myself to make sure that does not happen. You Autobots think that peace comes through words and feelings, but that is not so. If one shoots you in the arm, do you gladly open your hands and welcome him in friendship? No. You shoot him back. And if you do not have a weapon, then you do your best to tear them apart with your bare hands." The Decepticon shifted in his chair, leaning even closer to the Autobot than before, crossing his arms. "The universe is a dangerous and unforgiving place, Optimus Prime. If you do not conquer it, it will conquer you. Our race would survive only so long through your means. Another race, an unforseen catastrophe, and the Transformers would be no more. I will never let that happen, Optimus Prime ... no matter the cost." Megatron leaned back in his chair, allowing his opposite to absorb what he had just shared with him.

Optimus Prime stood up ... slowly, as to not alarm his guest. "Are you telling me, that all of these millions of years, after countless dead bodies and spilling of Energon, after all of the devestated worlds ... you have done all of this to protect Cybertron?" Megatron's words, still cold, grew heated in emotion.

"Of course it is, Optimus Prime." Megatron stood up and faced his ancient foe. "What did you think, that indeed I am some sort of base villain, one who murders and robs for petty ego? We are THE race of Primus, guardians of all there is." Eyes that would pierce even the hardest alloy blazed feircely red. "If we fall, then the universe is doomed." Optimus Prime sat down, as if in shock. He raised his right hand and placed it over his face, as if wiping away a dream.

"You truly believe in what you say. We have fought a war for million of years ... for the same reason." The realization struck Prime harder then any weapon ever could.

"Indeed, Optimus Prime." Megatron placed both of his hands on Optimus' shoulders. "You are a mighty warrier, Optimus Prime. You have fought against me for too long. Why not fight WITH me. Together, no force in the Universe could stop us." Optimus looked up at Megatron, and, for the briefest of moments, contemplated his offer. Then, abruptly, Optimus pulled away.

"No," Optimus whispered. No. We may have the same goals, Megatron, but the means to achieve those goals are light years apart. You would indeed have peace through tyranny, where I believe that fredoom, kindness, and strength of spirit will protect and nourish Primus' dream." Megatron, in a rare moment, seemed almost saddened by the response. Turning, he looked one last time at his ancient foe as he existed the secret room.

"Then, Optimus Prime, we shall fight ... forever more."