The blue glow faded from Garfield's fur as the last of the Cube's energy settled into his core.
He flexed a paw, claws extending and retracting with a satisfied shing.
Oh, yes. This was the feeling. Power, pure and familiar, humming through every whisker.
Better than a sunny spot on a Monday morning.
From the impossible depths of his pocket, he produced a frosty can, 1937 Happy Water, a vintage he'd personally curated.
The tab popped with a satisfying hiss, and he took a long, slow sip. Carbonated perfection danced across his tongue.
Ahhhhh.
Megatron's optical sensors narrowed with curiosity. "Teacher, what is that substance?"
"My scans indicate compounds that would be... problematic for silicon-based life. Yet you appear to derive pleasure from it."
Garfield held up the can, watching a bubble rise. "Harmful doesn't mean forbidden."
"Humans get maybe a hundred years, a spark's flicker compared to you. Long as it doesn't threaten world peace, hurt others, or damage their interests... why not enjoy the little things?"
Megatron's processor hummed, trying to compute this logic. Before he could ask for clarification, Orion Pax's optics brightened.
"Profound," Optimus said, nodding slowly. "I understand."
Megatron froze. If Optimus understood and he didn't, admitting ignorance would make him look... inadequate.
Less worthy of leadership. So he drew himself up and nodded.
"I understand as well."
Whether he actually did remained a mystery.
Transformers lacked the subtle expressions of organics, even their own kind sometimes couldn't read between the lines of a stoic faceplate.
Garfield's gaze lingered on Megatron. After another slow sip, he spoke.
"Megatron. Remember this, understand what you understand. Don't understand what you don't."
"Never pretend. The universe is vast, filled with mysteries waiting to be discovered. Pretending closes doors."
"It hurts you, and eventually, it hurts those who trust you. Don't let temporary pride cost you a lifetime of regret."
The words landed like precision strikes.
Megatron's helm dipped, shame flickering across his features. "Teacher... you're right. I didn't understand. I lied. I apologize."
Garfield's whiskers twitched, the closest a cat came to a smile. "Recognizing mistakes and correcting them, very good."
"I'll be leaving soon, Megatron. I hope you both fulfill your ideals. Save that decaying Cybertron of yours."
Optimus stepped forward, concern evident. "Teacher, the universe holds countless unknowns, you taught us that yourself. How can we let you journey alone?"
Garfield paused.
An X-wing fighter sat in his garage back home, waiting for its next adventure. The Star Wars galaxy, perhaps?
A Transformer companion would be useful. But these two… were too important here.
Bumblebee? Essential to his own timeline.
No, he needed flyers and neither Optimus nor Megatron could currently manage that.
"Well," Garfield said, settling back, "I can linger a while. Time and space are flexible."
"Besides..." He gestured vaguely toward the world beyond the database. "You have a more immediate crisis."
Blank looks exchanged between the two Cybertronians.
"What crisis?" Optimus asked.
"Yes," Megatron echoed, genuinely perplexed. "What crisis?"
Garfield pointed a lazy paw toward the exit, toward the settlement, toward everything outside their philosophical bubble. "
You've absorbed new ideas. You're ready to practice them."
"But here's the thing about change, about every revolution, every transformation..."
He let the silence stretch, cat-like.
"The first step is always the hardest test. Sometimes you pass. Sometimes..." He took another long sip of Happy Water.
"Sometimes you fail spectacularly."