[Megatronus Prime doesn't look happy – not that 'happy' is an emotion he displays regularly nor easy to identify on those rare occasions that he does, but his frown at the moment is exceptionally severe. The last week and a half have been lousy, to put it mildly.

Losing the trail of the monster he'd been chasing, having his judgement questioned, a rather strained meeting with the other Firstforged... It all tends to wear down a mech's patience.]

I trust that the recent bloodshed has been enough to sate even the most violent appetites.

[It doesn't look like he's going to be terribly sympathetic if it wasn't, however.]

Let it be known that these circumstances – the killing of your comrades – were exceptional. On behalf of my fellow Firstforged, let me make it clear:

[He moves towards the camera, close enough that subtle flames can be seen shifting between the cracks of his armor plates and the slats in his mask. Make no mistake: he is addressing you directly, dear refugee.]

You are strictly forbidden to murder one another.

Henceforth, those who choose to ignore this decree will face corrective measures at the hands of their Firstforged. We will no longer tolerate anyone weakening our own forces with infighting. I don't care how much you may or may not like each other. Any refugee bearing a Glyph is permitted to exist within the Haven without having to fear for their life.

Should any of you object to this imposition, I welcome you to settle it with me in the arena.

[He leans back from the feed, his expression shifting from 'threat of imminent violence' to the more familiar 'general contempt for other lifeforms.']

I trust that this message has been sufficiently direct. If you have questions, make them succinct and ask them now.