C200 A Son?!

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As Megatron's lifeless body collapsed, the once chaotic battlefield fell into an eerie silence. The clash of metal, the explosions, the screams—it all came to a halt. Every eye—Autobot, Decepticon, and human alike—was drawn to the sight of Peter standing over Megatron's fallen form.

The Autobots lowered their weapons, their faces a mix of astonishment and somber realization. Megatron, their greatest enemy, was dead.

Some Autobots stood in disbelief, processing the fact that the warlord who had terrorized them for so long was gone.

Others felt a wave of relief wash over them, though there was no celebration—only a quiet acknowledgment that this chapter of their long war had come to a violent end.

Among the Decepticons, confusion and fear rippled through the ranks. Many had followed Megatron out of fear, others out of loyalty to his vision of Cybertronian supremacy.

But now, with their leader gone, they stood frozen, uncertain of what to do next. They had no orders, no guidance. For the first time in their existence, they were without the one force that had driven them.

Optimus Prime, still battered from his duel, watched as Megatron's body began to fall. In a moment of silent reverence, he caught his old friend's broken form before it could plummet too far. Cradling the lifeless body, Optimus took a deep, heavy breath.

He gazed down at the twisted, sparkless shell of the Decepticon leader, his optics filled with sorrow. "I am sorry, my brother," Optimus whispered, his voice heavy with grief. "I wish it hadn't come to this."

As Optimus gently laid Megatron's body down, the tension in the air remained thick, hanging over the battlefield like a storm cloud. Peter, though aware of the gravity of what had just occurred, kept his composure. The weight of his actions—the death of Megatron—settled over him, but he knew there was more to be done.

The battle wasn't over yet.

Tapping into his earpiece, Peter reached out to Alfred. "Alfred, project my voice over the Red Room's speakers. The whole battlefield needs to hear this."

"Of course, Master Peter," Alfred responded, his voice calm as ever, though the urgency was clear. "Broadcasting now."

The hum of the Red Room's speakers activated, and soon, Peter's voice echoed across the battlefield, carried over the wind and the chaotic remnants of the battle. Standing tall on the shoulder of the Red Room Cybertronian, with the AllSpark glowing faintly around his neck, Peter addressed everyone.

"Decepticons, listen to me!" Peter's voice rang out, firm and resolute, cutting through the tension. "Your leader, Megatron, is dead. His war has ended, and so should yours."

His words carried weight, echoing across the battlefield. Decepticons, still frozen under Magneto's power, listened intently, their optics flickering as they processed what they had just heard. The sight of Megatron's fallen form had already shaken them, but Peter's words were driving the reality home.

"I know many of you followed Megatron out of fear or loyalty," Peter continued, his tone filled with a mix of authority and compassion. "But the truth is—this fight was never going to end with Cybertron's revival. It was going to end with all of you dead. You know that now. If you continue to fight, we will have no choice but to destroy you. There will be no mercy, and no one will be left standing."

The Decepticons shifted uncomfortably, their once-unshakable confidence crumbling. They glanced at each other, their optics reflecting confusion, fear, and doubt.

Peter's voice softened slightly, offering a way out. "Optimus Prime may be your enemy, but even he would never wish for all of you to die like this. There is still a way out."

A brief pause followed, and Peter scanned the battlefield, seeing the uncertainty in the Decepticons' eyes. "Surrender now, and we can find a way to coexist. You don't have to follow Megatron's path, as you can see where that got him now. Lay down your arms, or face total annihilation. The choice is yours—live or die. But know this: if you continue to fight, we will not hesitate to end this once and for all."

For a moment, the battlefield was still, the weight of Peter's words sinking in.

The Autobots, though surprised by Peter's boldness, stood ready. They watched the Decepticons closely, waiting for their response. Optimus, though troubled by the loss of Megatron, was prepared to uphold Peter's decision. He had always believed in a future where Autobots and Decepticons could coexist, but that future hung in the balance now.

Among the Decepticons, there was hesitation. Many of them, without Megatron's leadership, were lost, unsure of what to do. Slowly, a few Decepticons dropped their weapons, their optics dimming as they accepted Peter's offer. They didn't want to die—not like this.

But there were others who were not so willing to surrender. Even in the face of Megatron's death, some still clung to his vision, to his hatred of the Autobots. Their optics burned with defiance as they raised their weapons, refusing to lay down arms even as Magneto's power held them in place.

Peter sighed, sensing the divide among the Decepticons. Some would live. Others would fight to the bitter end. "Alright, I've given you enough time." He declared, his voice resolute as he turned to the Autobots. "Any Decepticon still holding their weapon are to be killed immediately!"

The battle had to end here, one way or another…

The Autobots, hearing Peter's command, leaped into action. With grim determination, they moved swiftly, targeting the Decepticons who refused to surrender.

Jazz, Bee, Ironhide, and the other Autobots, fueled by the weight of Megatron's death and Peter's words, swiftly cut down any Decepticon still clutching their weapon. The air filled with the sounds of battle once more, but this time, it was brief and decisive.

The Decepticons who had surrendered were spared, watching as their comrades were struck down for refusing to lay down arms. The realization that the war, at least for them, was over finally settled in. Those who had once fought fiercely for Megatron's vision now stood in silence, unsure of what the future held.

The battlefield was littered with the remains of Decepticon soldiers—those who had chosen to fight to the end. And as the last of them fell, the silence returned, heavy and final.

The war was over.

Peter stood tall on the Red Room Cybertronian's shoulder, watching the aftermath unfold below. The AllSpark pulsed faintly against his chest, a reminder of the power he now wielded, and the responsibility that came with it. The battle was won, but the path forward was uncertain.

Optimus, still holding the weight of Megatron's loss, stepped forward, his optics scanning the battlefield with a mixture of relief and sorrow. The Autobots had won, but at a great cost.

As the sun began to break through the dark clouds that had gathered over the battlefield, Peter turned to Optimus. "It's over."

Optimus nodded slowly, his voice quiet. "Yes… it is."

…

..

.

With Megatron dead and the Decepticons who refused to surrender dealt with, the work of cleanup began. It was a grim task, but one that had to be done. The bodies of fallen soldiers—Autobots, Decepticons, and Jedi—were scattered across the battlefield. Since the majority of the fight took place high in the air, many of the corpses had plummeted to the ground below, leaving the recovery team with a difficult task.

Peter, Optimus, Tony, and Magneto led the efforts. The Autobots were solemn as they gathered their fallen comrades, their massive hands carefully picking up the bodies of those who had fought bravely alongside them.

The Decepticons, now leaderless, either worked in silence or simply stood by, watching as the remains of their army were collected.

Despite the victory, it was hard to feel triumphant when faced with the reality of war—the loss, the destruction, the lives taken.

Peter let out a sigh of relief as Magneto took charge of gathering the metal bodies of the Decepticons and Autobots from the ground. With a simple flick of his wrist, Magneto manipulated the magnetic fields around him, pulling the metal corpses from the earth and bringing them up to be collected.

The task was made easier with Magneto's help, but it didn't erase the gravity of the situation. Each body was a reminder of the cost of this battle.

As Magneto hovered the fallen Autobots and Decepticons toward a secure location for proper disposal or burial, the Jedi also began to retrieve their dead.

Though the loss of life was heavy, the Jedi were efficient in their efforts. Two Jedi Knights and a Master had fallen in the battle, each one of them having perished in their starfighters. The retrieval process for their bodies was simple, as their starships were still intact, their remains safely inside.

Peter watched in silence as the Jedi worked, his heart heavy with sorrow for the loss of life. These Jedi had come to help him and now their lives were over.

Tony, despite his usual snark and bravado, was more subdued as he flew alongside the recovery teams, his HUD scanning the area for any stray tech or bodies. Stane's lifeless form, still clad in Tony's old Iron Man suit, was easily located, magnetized alongside the others thanks to the suit's metal composition.

"Never thought it'd end like this," Tony muttered under his breath as he hovered over Stane's body, looking down at the man who had once been like an uncle to him. His betrayal still stung, but there was no satisfaction in seeing him dead. Only a deep, hollow ache.

Peter approached him, standing next to the lifeless shell of Stane. "You okay?" he asked softly, sensing the weight Tony was carrying.

Tony glanced at Peter, his face hidden behind the mask of his suit. "Yeah," he replied, his voice strained. "Just… glad it's over."

But as the clean-up neared its end, Tony grew more and more frantic. His thoughts kept circling back to something critical, something that had been stolen before the battle even began.

"My dad's arc reactor," Tony muttered, his voice urgent as he continued scanning the area. "I can't find it anywhere. The Decepticons took it days ago, and it's not here. I thought Megatron would've used it to power himself, but there's nothing on him."

Tony's face contorted with frustration as he moved from body to body, searching for any trace of the stolen reactor. His HUD showed no signs of the reactor's unique energy signature on the battlefield, and with each passing moment, Tony's anxiety grew.

"Maybe he didn't have time," Peter suggested, walking beside him. "Megatron seemed pretty focused on the AllSpark. That arc reactor might not have been his priority."

Tony clenched his fists, his frustration boiling over. "Yeah, but it's gotta be somewhere. It's not just an arc reactor, Peter. It's the first one me and my dad ever built. If it's out there, someone could—"

Peter placed a hand on Tony's shoulder, stopping him mid-sentence. "We'll find it, Tony. Let's just keep looking."

…

..

.

Just as Tony was about to give up hope, Peter called him over to Megatron's Flagship. "Tony," he called out, his voice steady. "I think I found it."

Tony entered the ship, navigating through its damaged corridors until he reached Peter's location. There, he found what he was looking for.

The arc reactor was massive, much larger than Tony's personal version. It had been integrated into the heart of the ship, replacing its previous power supply.

"There it is," Tony breathed in relief as he landed next to the reactor, inspecting it. "They used it to power the whole damn ship."

Peter ran his hand along the edge of the reactor, nodding. "That's not all," he said, his tone more cautious. "It looks like it's powering something else, too."

They moved deeper into the ship, following the energy readings until they reached a lab or workshop of some kind. It was dark, except for the soft glow of the arc reactor's energy feeding into various machines.

And there, in the center of the room, stood something neither of them had expected.

A partially built Cybertronian.

It was massive, almost the size of Megatron himself, though its frame was incomplete. Its features were eerily similar to Megatron's—broad shoulders, sharp edges, and the unmistakable markings of a Decepticon leader. But it wasn't alive. It was just an inanimate robot, a shell without a spark.

Tony furrowed his brow. "What the hell is this?" he muttered, stepping closer to inspect the partially built figure. "It looks like… Megatron?"

Peter, equally confused, stared at the unfinished Cybertronian. "Was he… trying to build something? A new version of himself?"

Tony shook his head. "I don't know. It's incomplete. But why?"

They called over one of the Decepticons who had surrendered, a lower-ranking soldier who approached warily. "You," Peter said, pointing toward the partially built Cybertronian. "What was Megatron doing here? What is this?"

The Decepticon hesitated, glancing at the lifeless figure before finally speaking. "That… was Megatron's project. He was trying to make a successor… a son."

Both Peter and Tony stared at the Decepticon in shock.

"A son?" Peter repeated, his voice incredulous. "Megatron wanted a son?"

A/N: 2215 words :)

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