Old Style Battles

New comer to the Arena?

The long hall was dark, yet threw the crack in the door the light lit the way. Thunder seemed to come from everywhere yet nowhere, the noise was near deafening for most audios, but his were protected by his helm. He stood at the door listing as the announcer called the challenger from his corridor on the other side of the arena.

The announcer took his time, as the challenger from the northern territory walked out to the middle of the arena. The crowed cheered idly knowing he wasn't going to last. He stood there looking at the huge crowd wanting their show of engergonshed. He was not a battle unit though he had taught himself well. This was his first time to here and he was determined for it not to be his last.

"And our challenger is Valclaron!"
The crowed started to cheer and though some held back. Valclaron raised his fist into the air.

The champion stood a smirk tugged at his lip. 'Just like every other challenger' he thought to himself.

The crowed died off to a dull roar, then the announcer started again.

"And as you know coming from near the equator of our beloved planet, he comes from where only the strong survive." The crowd amped up its noise then died to listen again. "He has won every mach thus far and the sole title of champion." He paused to emphasize dramatics. "MEGATRON!" The decibel level rose to near unbearable levels as he strode through the open door and out on to the field.

With each step the crowd seemed to grow and the cheer rose. He stopped just out of striking distance from Valclaron, facing him in direct defiance. He raised his sword to the dark sky, and the crowd cheered again.

“Our champion has accepted the challenge. A fight to the death!" The crowd hushed and watched as Valclaron posed him self for the beginning of the battle. Megatron didn't move antagonizing his opponent as much as possible.


Valclaron's optics narrowed. This is what he had trained for, he had given just about everything he knew up to come here and take the champion down. His manager Sparkright had told him countless times that he was indeed better than Megatron and there was no possibility of failure. He watched Megatron as he prepared to make the first strike.

Megatron lowered his blade at an angle to the ground. He knew better than to underestimate his opponent, but he held the advantage of experience.

Valclaron bought his blade above his head and jumped, He let the sword slide thought the air one handed and to the side. Megatron near laughed. He countered easily and stepped out of the way. The challenger spun around to find himself under direct attack; he leaned back as the tip of Megatron's blade whistled past his neck. He was forced to take a step back and recalculate his tactics. The battle was going to be much harder then he had expected. Valclaron held his blade with both hands out in front of him ready to defend anything that could be brought against him.

Megatron walked forward slowly a smug smirk on his lip. He swiped at Valclaron then swiped again back the other way. The two blades clashed and sparks flew from the contact. Pausing a moment to put some power in to his swing Megatron swiped again. Valclaron pulled back and let the blade pass though the air grabbing the wrist that was holding it. Instinctively Megatron used his other hand to punch at Valclaron. Standing and taking the hit to the chest the gold and white mech quickly pulled trying to knock his opponent off balance.

Megatron dropped his blade effectively letting his hand free and really preferring the hand-to-hand combat anyway. He pulled Valclaron back, and into another fist that landed near the same spot, leaving an obvious dent. Valclaron started to get angry but quickly countered it not letting his emotion interfere with the battle.

At the sound of the clank the crowd leapt from their seats cheering wildly.

"They cheer for me. I control them." Megatron just loud enough Valclaron could hear.

Valclaron clenched his fist and thrust it out making contact and pushing Megatron away. "All things change."

Megatron took a step back from the force of the push. He Kicked out and hit the gold knee join that popped and whined under the pressure.

Valclaron managed to hold his balance and refused to acknowledge the pain, he placed his weight in the injured knee and leaned in to a kick forward. He managed to hit Megatron's right shoulder as he twisted. His shoulder sparked and energon leaked from a small crack, he refused to play any more games. He got up from the ground and stood in front of Valclaron. Valclaron only smiled and seemed to be egging him on. Megatron pulled his left back and thrust it out. White armor was thrust out to counter, but held back by the impact. He pulled his right landing his fist on the side of Valclaron's helm.

Valclaron back peddled out of hands reach shaken but the blunt trauma. His optics struggled to focus but he forced them to become clear.

The crowd was roaring again at the new contact.
Megatron slowly followed, walking and letting his repair system work his shoulder.
Valclaron was stuck suddenly with a moment of panic having lost sight of Megatron. He reset his optics quickly to he the larger silver from come toward him.


Valclaron’s systems seemed to overheat at the mech that came charging up to him. A hard strike landing on his lower jaw unhinging it and breaking it off sending it flying out into the crowd. His anger rose and furry got the best of him, pulled back a fist then shot both out wildly as if he couldn’t see his target at all.

Megatron stood slapping the flying fists down and way as he started to laugh. “It is too bad you will not live to see the idiot that put the idea in your processor that you could beat me.”

“It doesssssssn’t maaaaaatter, I shall kill him.” Valclaron promised himself as he said through his missing jaw.

Megatron just shook his head knowing that in a few moments he would be in agreement and it will not have mattered. He grabbed on of the fists that were aimed in his general direction and pulled it forward while twisting it out of its socket. If and vocal sound was made from Valclaron the sound of the whining metal coved it. Energon flowed brightly out of the new wound and splashed out on to the ground. Watching closely Megatron assessed Valclaron’s abilities to clarify himself and go on while missing a limb, something that few mechs could do.

Valclaron paused, and then released a peg from the compartment on his remaining arm. It popped out and he grabbed the small stick that then lit up into a longer energon powered staff.

“That will not help you, you cannot kill with a sick.” Megatron said sarcastically.

“It was never my intent to kill. The shame that you had lost would be enough.”

Megatron posed to defend himself tired of the little play that was taking place. Under other circumstances he would have had much more respect for the one he currently faced and perhaps this one could have even had a place in his new plan for Cybertron. However here and now, it would be impossible. Valclaron came at him, aiming for the tare in the shoulder that he had managed to make earlier. Megatron kicked away the hand and forced his opponent to turn in his tracks. He stood behind Valclaron his fingers pressed into the weak parts of the armor on the back of the neck.

“In another life perhaps we could have been allies.” Megatron pressed again penetrating and pulling the lines that sent fuel to Valclaron’s Medaprocessor as well as stopping the total flow of power.

The gold and white mech’s optics flickered then blinking out. His now lifeless form falling to the ground. The crowd’s volume increased again as Megatron walked back to his spot mid arena and stood in victory. The arena staff came out and started to clean the area taking Valclaron and his parts putting them in to a cart to be sent to the smelter.

Down at the pools the cart arrived, two small drones starting taking pieces out and tossing them into the smelter as if playing a game. The cart twitched and they paid no mind to it, the chassis that resided in it shifted.

Valclaron’s systems went through a series of restarts before his back up systems finally got his processor online. He was told many times that he needed an auxiliary fuel line. This time he thanked Primus for having actually listened. He powered up his repair systems then his mobility. The two drones looked wildly at him then scampered away as if they were scared. He pulled himself from the cart as damage scrolled through his optic screen. His current condition was not acceptable, first on his list of things was repairs.


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