"...I am not offline," Optimus grumbled from somewhere around Megatron's neck, lifting himself up shakily.

The unease was not solely from the effects of the Matrix - the knowledge he had been gifted with had hit him hard. So much information, lost to general knowledge. A Highlord Protector in a rebel fighter, chosen like a Prime.

Sitting back, still on top of Megatron, he couldn't help but note the ridiculousness of the situation and snorted out loud, glancing down at the mech under him with a wry smirk.

"...Well. That escalated quickly."