Megatron shifted slightly in place as the new coding was, inexorably and impossible to stop (at least for Megatron) due to the medic-specific by-passes used, slotted neatly into place and activated. After all of the gladiator-specific restrictions had been disabled and scrubbed from his programming, he hadn't actually thought he'd ever have to experience this particular sequence of lines of codes, alerts and warnings flash up on his HUD explaining oh-so-helpfully what was being locked away, the level of priority, and what encryption was being used.

It did not really... physically hurt, but there was the ghostly spark-sensation of something sqeezing closed over his spark. The former gladiator wouldn't admit to it, and he straightened up as soon as he noticed, but that didn't stop his helm from dipping slightly and his optics briefly guttering.

"Indeed. I'm sure Sentinel Prime thought the same, considering his philosophy. And you think you will stand by whatever ideals you profess, be capable of not being changed by the society you want to perform your own changes on? Top-down, even." Megatron's voice was flat as he stared right back, straightening further when the Prime stepped closer.

It was... cute, almost, especially as Optimus Prime at least seemed to have some anchoring in reality compared to his predecessor. But in Megatron's rather long experience "top-down" changes rarely worked.

And "cute" would not help the Prime. Not against the weight of corruption, the nobles, the senators, or the rebel leader staring down at him that he was in the process of putting in his harem.