The restrictions... restraints, really, were stifling, but he would adapt. He'd dealt with it once, he could do so again, and in truth, they were logical restrictions. Reasonable, even, for the sort of crimes he'd committed and still escape a death sentence.

But he'd had to react. It was foolish, yes, to act out like this, now, and show that he had both the skill and strength to - on some level - circumvent normal stasis-cuffs. But he'd done what he'd intended and no one was really injured; the guards would at most suffer some aches, some severe denting and impact-related damage... Not too much really.

He could have dodged the kick and the Prime, he didn't. Taking the kick to his knee-joint silently, he merely made sure to collapse with as little tension and as gracefully as possible. Dispassionately noting and logging the damage that flashed up on his HUD, Megatron wondered if the knee would be left to his own self-repair.

It wouldn't surprise him.

Letting the Prime do as he wished after he crashed into the floor, he realized he actually recognized the medic. He'd been a lot younger back in the day, but it was most definitely the same one who'd first applied the gladiator-restrictions when he'd become one.

The irony.