Solus levels her gaze at Starscream, optics unwavering.

"I'd like to see you try, Starscream." Her tone is cool, almost dry, and she scoffs out a soft vent of air.

"Your future would be bleak by anyone's standards, Megatron," she says, still holding the Forge firmly, poised to move, but there's no hostile intent in her frame just yet. "But I can tell you the Autobots certainly aren't troubled by what's become of the Decepticons under the future without your leadership. You, however, might be."