I'm afraid we don't have many answers ourselves.

You're on some kind of alternate Cybertron that enjoys bending space and time to bring us all together in this city. That's about the extent of what's known.

[He looks up to meet the suspicious stare with an unflinching one of his own. Megatron was far from being small, even before any significant wartime upgrade, but well - some bots were just designed to fit people inside them. There was more than enough youthful vigor to make up for it in presence, though.]

[And he'd need that for what he was about to say next:]

The war's over. Both Autobots and Decepticons have put aside their weapons to build the city up. I trust you will do the same.

[The Decepticon doesn't say much, but Megatron can tell that he doesn't like the second half of the answer.]

[Of course, very few actually seemed to respond well to the order of 'lay down your weapons don't murder the people you've been murdering for four million years'. Go figure.]

What's your name?

You're part of the Decepticon Justice Division.

[He was named Helex, after the city. Nearly a year ago, it would have been merely a strange name choice, but a lot has happened since then. A lot of violent incidents with Tarn, unfortunately. But if this bot was half as fanatical as Tarn was, turning this around could still be possible.]

You were picked to uphold the ideals I wrote, just as Tarn was.

[It's been a long time since he felt that familiar pang of anger at the accusation. Of course, he knew why Helex felt that way. But he also knew that the DJD were the symbol of a grossly corrupted ideology, one that filled him with disgust at the mere thought of it.]

Before I arrived here, I was on a prison shuttle for killing a Senator's guard. If you're even part the fanatic Tarn is you'd be familiar with it. The C-12 Riot. There was no one more ready continue the fight than I was.

But there's no functionist oppression here. No reason to start killing. Just tired sparks weary of fighting a war that lost its reason. People who want to rebuild.

I suppose you'll ignore that if the truth is too inconvenient for you, but don't you dare suggest I'm the traitor when the only reason you're wearing that badge on your chest is because of the meaning I gave it.

[Megatron sees the rage fill the smelter's frame, and silently prepares for a possible fight. He may not developed a gladiator's thirst for blood, but he's picked up a thing or two in his stay here.]

No. I haven't. But I've seen the malaise the gesture has caused in my time here.

[Also he's real sick n tired of people blaming him for Shit he didn't do yet on both sides. But he suspects Helex won't care much for that particular detail.]

I'm not going to leave the cause. But we need to change our priorities if we want to survive on this planet.

[Megatron's entire posture changes as Helex begins to advance. His knees bend as he lowers to the ground, immediately preparing to get the hell out of the way when the first strike comes. Wary of both sets of arms, he slips to the side to circle around the enormous Decepticon.]

[No weapons, a size disadvantage and a much more experienced opponent. Things could be worse. He could have stupid amounts of guns like Sentinel did.]

Over here.

[He'll be chucking that piece of rebar plucked off the ground at Helex's face, thanks. Maybe if the smelter gets pissed off enough he'll make a stupid mistake.]

[It's hard to not see the massive arm coming, and Megatron jumps back a few steps to avoid it. He stumbles for a half a second, slipping on the loose debris he was standing on, but manages to catch himself.]

[He honestly had no real idea with how the hell he was supposed to attack Helex without getting himself caught in an iron grip. He couldn't keep ducking around forever.]

Is that it? Tarn told me you lot were supposed to strike terror into the sparks of everyone you came across.

[The taunt comes with another piece of debris, this time launched at the thick glass of the chamber on his chest.]