“Sweet dreams are made of these…
Who am I to disagree?
Travel the world and the seven seas;
everybody’s looking for something.
Some of them want to use you…
Some of them want to get used by you…
Some of them want to abuse you…
Some of them want to be abused…
-Sweet Dreams
Eurythmics-1983
Marilyn Manson-1995

It passed through the dark void of space. Its consciousness, its very essence almost depleted since its last encounter with those it should have defeated. Hatred and burning fury swirled through its cerebral core, it was the only thing keeping it from slipping into madness darker than that of its former servant. His body destroyed, Unicron was merely a mechanical head carried by the soundless currents that drifted throughout space. How long had it been since he was defeated by the Transformers? For years he counted the time passed since being separated from his original body, he could recall by the second. His near acquisition of Cybertron and subsequent failure due to Starscream blazed at the forefront of his consciousness. It was years before he made his presence known once again, monitoring the angolmois energy that sparked a series of violent Beast Wars. Generals of Predacon and Maximal alike: LioConvoy, Big Convoy, Galvatron and Magmatron, knew nothing of Unicron’s subtle manipulations until it was too late. With the energy gathered and Galvatron’s body possessed, Unicron managed to achieve his dream of inhabiting Cybertron, ousting the awareness of Vector Sigma and inserting his own presence as the dominant force. But this too, eventually failed in the end. Unicron was forcibly thrust from his rightful throne by beings of insectile significance. Again he had been defeated by the matrix. Again… It was forever his curse, a plague in his mind and very existence.
Unicron drifted, and raged, infuriated, defeated. For the first time the Dark God felt a stab of self-doubt enter his mind. Perhaps it was his destiny to orbit the very planets he would have devoured in a previous era. But then again, perhaps not. The drifting head could not see; his abrupt separation from Galvatron’s body shot his consciousness back to his decapitated head, blowing almost every remaining fuse and shattering his eyes. But he COULD sense. Currently he sensed a planet in his path, a planet that seemed to be thriving with life all too familiar to him. Initial analysis revealed the planet to be comprised of metal… odd for a world so close to Earth. Unicron’s sensors estimated the sphere existed less than 5 light-years from the blue planet, proving to him it was not Cybertron. Interesting. Initializing a topographical scan used more power than the Dark God expected, doing more damage to Unicron’s ego than his remaining energy. There was a time when such an action exerted no more energy than a human blink of the eye; now he was forced to ward off shutdown with almost every action.
The scan was complete. A strange world was before him. The center perimeter of the planet’s surface looked as if it had been stripped (or gnawed) away, leaving a single sphere in the center. It was as if the metal ball connected the remaining top and bottom halves, a giant metal apple core. Life was abundant as well. Unicron immediately recognized the similarity he sensed before. Metal beings- robots, flourished on this world. In his time floating through the various currents of space, Unicron had drifted into orbit around worlds that exhibited fleeting signs of robotic life… but this one seemed different. Of the few robot-infested worlds he had encountered, this one reminded him most of those who inhabited Cybertron.
He decided that this was planet was worth the effort. Within Unicron’s cerebral core existed a dormant power cell, one that had been siphoning energy from the most minute sources. The heat of a sun, the errant radiation from a dying star. It was full. He had refused to acknowledge the cell’s existence, lest the temptation to drain its refreshing contents become too much. But this was his last chance, last hope of regaining what he had lost. Unicron overrode his own safety mechanisms and accessed the cell, commanding it to release the energy it had taken so long to accumulate. It was euphoric, for a brief moment Unicron saw himself as he once was, devouring worlds, taking their essence into himself. Dull green light lit one of his cracked eyes, and with his remaining energy, Unicron made his way towards the strange new world. It was not Cybertron, but it would do.
*********************
“What’s the situation Turbo?”
Leader-1 flew into the Command Center’s main control room and caught sight of the screen displaying a strange energy anomaly. Several other robots had gathered, and Turbo tapped a few buttons, attempting to get a better picture of an image taken less than an hour ago. He succeeded in turning the monitor off.
“Aw, stupid computer!” He raised a closed fist with intent to blast the insubordinate machine when Scooter clicked a button and restored the image.
“See,” his froggy voice squeaked, “All better!”
Turbo contemplated blasting the thing anyway, but caught sight of Leader-1 and thought against it.
Landing with a solid ‘klunk’, Leader-1 joined his comrades and stared up at the display. A swath of multiple colors highlighted the screen, centered around a single shape that slowly drifted towards their world.
“What is that thing?” Scooter turned towards his commander, a puzzled look in his bulbous eyes. They searched Leader-1’s face and found confusion that matched their own.
“I don't know Scoot, we better go take a look.”
“Take a look?” Scooter winced, “Can’t we just watch it from here where it's safe?”
Turbo rolled his eyes, ready to comment on his teammate’s constant display of cowardice, but a raised hand from Leader-1 cut him off.
“I’m afraid not Scoot, we don't know if this thing’s friend or foe. Let's go.”
Leader-1 motioned for Scooter and the rest of the Guardians to follow.

A cluster of GoBots pointed worried fingers at the sky and murmured as a dark shape appeared like a ghost out of the fog. Not since the arrival of Solitaire and the subsequent battle of the Rock Lords had their been such commotion. Forcing its way through the crowd was a little red truck. A shifting of gears sounded, and the vehicle unravel and reconfigure itself into a robot. She stood, her name SmallFoot, Guardian soldier with a knack for finding trouble. Her mode change complete, she glanced down at her body's shape. The word ‘clunky’ came to mind, one that had been in her head more often over the years.
The sounds of the crowd brought her back. She could see Pathfinder, a fellow Guardian and personal friend, had taken to the sky in her UFO form for a closer look. SmallFoot opened a com-link in her wrist.
“Pathfinder, can you see anything?”
“Not yet,” Came a crackling response, “but whatever it is, it's brimming with power-AAAAAAAAAAA!!!”
A bright flash lit the sky and illuminated a ghastly silhouette of the object drifting closer to their home. A string of lightening blots leapt from the hovering terror and enveloped Pathfinder. She screamed again, covered in an electrical net as it worked its way through her systems and forced her to change modes involuntarily. Consciousness left her as she fell.
“Pathfinder!” SmallFoot reverted back to her truck form and rumbled towards the plummeting Guardian at full speed. Rubber burned as she squealed to a halt and caught Pathfinder in the back cab. She sighed in relief; Pathfinder did the same as she came to. Her voice was mixed with pain and fear as she spoke.
“It-” she stammered, smoke curling from her joints, “It’s so powerful… so powerful… my instruments went off… the scale a-as soon as I… took off…” Pathfinder’s eyes went wide behind her visor, “It… it was like it had… a face…” Her visor went dark, and she passed out. SmallFoot changed back into robot form and held her friend, watching the sky as a Command Center roared overhead.
******************
A door opened along the Center’s right side as four legs extended in preparation to land. A puff of white smoke plumed from beneath its feet and the Command Center touched down, standing tall like a simple dinosaur. Leader-1 exited, followed by Turbo and Scooter, who looked none too happy to be there. An extra jolt went through Leader-1’s circuits when he saw SmallFoot, and he quickly shifted his gaze from her to the dark object moving ever closer to their planet.
“SmallFoot, what happened?”
"Pathfinder’s hurt.” She replied, stating the obvious. She looked up at the thing in the sky. “She was trying to figure out how much power that… thing has."

Turbo placed a hand on Pathfinder’s shoulder and retracted it with a jerk.
“Yeouch!” his hand smoldered with blackened paint, “She wasn't kidding! What is that thing?”
It was less than one mile from the planet’s surface. As the veil of darkness began to dissipate from his being, the GoBots beheld the Dark God Unicron. They froze in his presence, not a single bot in the vicinity so much as blinked an optic.
Many words have been used to describe Unicron. Even in a state he considered to be his weakest, the being radiated energy that belittled any and all forms of life around him. His head alone, cracked and aged throughout the years, struck terror in their heart and souls. The GoBots, ignorant to Unicron’s various acts of planetary homicide understood they were in the presence of something far higher than any level of existence they could ever hope to achieve…
**********************
A single Thruster base remained cloaked above the gathering of Guardians and miscellaneous GoBots as they stared at Unicron, barely able to comprehend his existence- the sentiment was shared by Cy-Kill, leader of the Renegades. The information Fitor stole from the Guardian files had led them here, and they watched in concealment as Unicron revealed himself to the population. Cy-Kill, Fitor, Crasher, Coptor, and every Renegade present or watching via satellite transmission could find no words to describe what they were witnessing. They had never seen anything like this: never. The most disturbing observation was made by Cy-Kill himself. He didn't know how or why it seemed so obvious to him, but something deep within told him in no uncertain terms, that thing in the sky was aware.
******************
Cy-Kill’s thoughts were shared by Leader-1. The desire to ask, “What is it?” had been readily replaced be a need to ask, “Who are you?” But the words wouldn't come. He may as well have possessed no voice box, as he'd forgotten how to use his. But his thoughts were loud and clear. It took practically no energy for Unicron to enter a machine’s mind, and he took a slight comfort in the ease in which he could sense Leader-1’s thoughts as well as the group of bots who felt hidden in the sky. He answered them with a single thought of his own.
“I am Unicron.”
It was a booming thunder in the minds of the GoBots. Some clasped their heads, praying their audio receptors would blow rather than hear another word from the alien machine. Their pain pleased Unicron.
Leader-1 noticed Unicron had continued to lower himself, descending like the moon. He was less than half a mile from the planet’s surface, his mass seemed to blot out the sky. Just as Leader-1 had sensed awareness about the being, he also sensed- knew something terrible would happen if it made physical contact with their world.
“W-why-“ he started, and felt a line of oil drip down the corner of his mouth. He could hear Scooter’s labored breathing (he was so dramatic) in shock from Unicron’s first words. He wondered if they could survive another answer from him.
“Why are you here?”
Leader-1, along with every Guardian and Renegade alike flinched in anticipation of another audio blast from Unicron. This time, the answer seemed to emanate from massive head, his mouth motionless as he spoke.
“There was a time,” he began, the thunderous voice booming throughout the atmosphere and rattling the metal ground, “when I would have thought nothing of devouring this planet.”
Incredulous glances were exchanged; truths were realized. If this was simply Unicron’s head, no one could even begin to fathom his size with a body. It was like a ragged skull clinging to life; to awareness. A distinct certainty radiated from Unicron’s shattered eyes. He was a blind devil; complete with horns.
“Now,” he continued, “I merely seek to inhabit it.”
His proclamation hit every GoBot like a scythe. Fear registered like never before, a silent tidal wave that crashed over the planet. Leader-1 felt like he was drowning in the current. His eyes found Unicron’s wrecked sockets, infinite black pools edged with jagged green glass waiting to impale any who sought the abyss.
“Unicron,” Leader-1 tried to start. Damn it was hard to keep his voice steady, “You may be…” What? A God? A force of destruction? Demon? “You may be one of the most powerful beings I've ever seen…” he cursed himself for not finding a better description… but how do you describe something you can't comprehend?
“But you'll never inhabit Gobotron!” His eyes narrowed, he balled a tight fist and pointed his finger at the descending head, “We may have our problems, but this is our world, and we won't give it up without a fight!” Silence followed his speech, and Leader-1 immediately felt the insecurity creeping back. Had he overstepped his bounds by speaking for an entire planet? An angry shout cut through the heavy silence.
“Yeah! We ain't givin’ up without a fight!”
Leader-1 sighed with relief. Good old Turbo never let him down. Other voices piped in.
“Yeah, this is our world!”
“Long live Gobotron!”
“What can you do, you don't even have a body!”
Leader-1 felt his spirit rise. They were behind him, and he would lead them into battle against this new foe, he would lead them to victory-
A thick wave of green energy exploded from Unicron, bathing every GoBot with enough electricity to cause their internal circuits to sizzle. Their limbs spasmed, and their bodies were flung helplessly through the air like paper dolls caught in the violent winds of a typhoon. The Renegade Thruster was ripped from its stealth mode and whirled about with as little effort as a single GoBot. It crashed to the ground and tore its way through the surface, snapping in two and crushing almost six fleeing GoBots in its wake. Their screams were drowned out by the mind-numbing squeal of tearing metal. It halted in a broken heap, a ruined city-sized corpse. Renegades poured from its body like maggots escaping the dark, wild with fear. Cy-Kill’s expression echoed his followers’ sentiments on only a slightly lesser degree.
Leader-1 barely found the strength to stand. When his vision cleared, Cy-Kill was the first thing he saw.
“Cy-Kill!” he bellowed, feelings of ire began to rise. It was in direct proportion to the amount of pain it caused him to shout.
“Very good Leader-1, you remembered my name!”
Leader-1 felt his teeth clench. He pointed at the monstrosity hovering in the sky. “Is this another one of your schemes?!”
Cy-Kill felt his eyes widen. “You fool! Even I don't want Gobotron destroyed!” he raised a fist and shook it at Leader-1 “Though one day I’ll rule this world! I’ll-“ a hand touched his shoulder. He whipped around and came nose to nose with Cop-Tor, who quickly pointed to Unicron.
“Sorry to interrupt you Cy-Kill, but the big head’s glowing again.”
Crasher pulled herself up and looked at Unicron.
“He’s gonna light up the town…” she barely laughed, finding nothing funny about the second wave of pain when it hit them. Unicron unleashed a shockwave that streaked forth and smashed into buildings with enough force to shatter the windows a second before tearing the entire structures from the ground, still attached to their foundations.
SmallFoot collapsed backwards and screamed as her body threatened to melt away from its frame. Bright explosions went off behind her eyes, she could feel her optical circuits starting to fry. She could barely move her arms and legs. Scooter’s body smashed into Turbo- unconscious. Turbo would have tried to catch Scoot (maybe) if his own arm joints hadn't fused together with the stench of seared paint and bubbling rubber.
Leader-1 clasped his hands to his head and screamed as green and yellow lightening shot through his cerebral core. A loud crackling sounded, prompting Leader-1 to open his eyes and discover part his visor had shattered. Thin bubbles had already begun to form in the glass, obscuring his vision. His body temperature doubled as his coolants ran dry, and he yanked both hands from his head before they were welded there permanently. With an excruciating effort he raised his head- and watched helplessly as Unicron touched down upon Gobotron’s surface.
*******************
Leader-1 found himself waking up. A white-green flash occurred the instant Unicron touched the planet, drowning out his audio and visual world. How long had he been out? A scream reminded him of where he was. He turned while pulling himself to his feet and spotted GoBots fleeing for their lives, trying to pull half-melted friends out of a pool of their own liquid metal. He tried to stand but couldn't keep his balance; the ground was shaking violently, as if a volcano was trying to free itself from Gobotron’s metal frame. A jolt threw him to the ground next to SmallFoot- she was staring straight ahead with a glazed expression. Leader-1 turned his head towards whatever she had caught sight of but saw nothing.
“SmallFoot, what’s wrong?” His eyes found the source of her shock. The sky was empty. Unicron’s head was gone.
“What’s going on?” he asked no one in particular, when the tip of a golden horn erupted from the ground. Both he and SmallFoot were thrown back and pelted with blackened metal debris raining from the monstrous spike that tore its way through the ground, the size of its base increasing with every meter it grew.
Cy-Kill watched the massive curve of gold metal reach for the sky like a savage claw. Never had he felt so insignificant in such a short period of time. Crasher and Cop-Tor gawked at the giant growth in horror. Fitor attempted flight in his aerial form and found it impossible; a hail of torn metal chunks almost buried him before he could get airborne.
“Cy-Kill,” he called, changing back into robot form, “What do we do?!”
Cy-Kill considered the question. His brow furrowed, a snarl twisted his lips. Without a word Cy-Kill stood and raised a closed fist towards the still growing horn. He screamed, and fired.
****************
Turbo noted the Renegades’ actions as he stumbled over to Leader-1 and SmallFoot with Scooter slung over his shoulder.
“What’re those idiots doin’?!” he shouted over the maddening rumble and scragging sounds of Gobotron’s newly developing structure. Leader-1 could hardly believe his eyes when he saw Cy-Kill and his Renegades firing full force at the horn. Some shots actually managed to puncture the thing, but in the end it was like trying to stop a falling boulder with a pin.
“I hate Renegades,” Turbo’s eyes went towards Cy-Kill, “but I say we join em, they've got the right idea!”
“No.” Leader-1, for the first time since the war began, felt a genuine respect for Cy-Kill, but these were impossible odds. They didn't even know what was happening, how could they hope to stop it? He turned towards Turbo, who wore a mask of surprise and Leader-1 guessed anger. “Did the Command Center survive the blast?”
Turbo pointed as best he could towards the transport. Two legs (both the rear) had been blown clear off, and it had crashed to its side. It would have to do.
“Get as many GoBots into the Center as possible!”
Turbo gave him an incredulous look. “We’re retreating?”
Leader-1’s eyes darted from Cy-Kill to the Command Center, then back to Turbo and SmallFoot. Decision time, hero. “I’ll help Cy-Kill. Get to the Command Center and if it works come for us.” This time there were no objections, they took off for the downed vehicle, stopping on occasion to herd stragglers aboard.
************
“I don't have many charges left!” Fitor blasted a chunk of metal hurtling towards them. Cy-Kill continued to concentrate on the horn, noting with a bitter twang how little damage his shots were actually doing. Crasher provided cover fire while Cop-Tor attempted to slice through the still-growing spike with his rotator blade. It whirred with deadly intent- until it hit the opposing metal and snapped with a cold warble. The broken half stabbed into a section of the ground that ripped into the air as the horn continued to pull itself towards the black sky. By this time Cy-Kill estimated the thing was close to 100 feet in diameter at the base, and from the looks of it, would get much bigger before it was done. A blast from above startled him. It struck the gold armor and sizzled, leaving a subtle sump in the metal. Leader-1 soared overhead in jet mode, firing continually with as little success as Cy-Kill.
“Leader-1!” he called, “What do you think you're doing?!”
“Doing things your way.” He replied, for now. Cy-Kill, we have to retreat, this isn't helping!”
“What do you mean retreat? I'm Cy-Kill, the most powerful Go-Bot in history-”
“Look, we both want to stop Unicron, but we can't do that if we don't know what we're dealing with!” Again the uncertainty crept into Leader-1. Here he was trying to reason with a GoBot who, less than 24 hours ago, would have blown a smoking ring through any Guardian in sight and laughed. Did he really expect him to cooperate now? “Work with us Cy-Kill, it's the only way!”
“I’ll do no such thing Guardian!” What makes you think we need your-”
The Command Center thundered above them, coughing up plumes of blackened smoke from the damage it received. Thick cracks ran through the glass, it was a wonder the thing still functioned. A small slot opened, Turbo stood in the entrance. Leader-1 could sense the quake’s intensity increasing, he returned to robot mode and grabbed Cy-Kill by the arm.
“Inside, NOW!” Cy-Kill still resisted, furious that Leader-1 was his only means of escape. He caught a glimpse of the decimated Thruster and sputtered “Never- hey!” Cy-Kill’s jaw dropped when Crasher, Cop-Tor, and Fitor made a beeline for the Command Center. Over a dozen Renegades followed their lead. “What do you think you're doing?!” Cy-Kill’s voice quivered with anger and confusion. Only Fitor stopped and turned.
“Cy-Kill, do you want to die? Because I sure don't!” With that he disappeared into the transport. Cy-Kill wasn't given a chance to respond, unceremoniously tossed inside by Leader-1. He landed with a flat ‘thunk’ and quickly got to his feet, brushing himself off. “Was that really necessary?!” he demanded, his tone wavering on the level of a child given a time out. “I would have come, I just-” he looked towards his troops, all giving him the same cold stare from behind crossed arms. Cy-Kill tossed his hands in the air. “Alright, alright!”
Turbo didn't try to hide the disgust in his voice. "I dunno about this Leader-1, I don't trust Renegades."
Crasher laughed, taking pleasure in the gobot's petulant tone. "We don't like you either cue ball, if I had things my way I'd jam one of those horns right up your-
"As Crasher has made clear," Cy-Kill waved a hand towards Leader-1, smirking at the commander, "This situation changes nothing between us. But we have a truce, for now..."
Leader-1 didn't notice the energy that crackled around his damaged fingers. It hurt, but didn't compare to the heat of his anger. "So help my Cy-Kill, if you even THINK about starting trouble now, of all times now-"
“Leader-1!” SmallFoot grabbed his arm and pulled him away, “You better take a look at this!” Leader-1 allowed himself to be taken away, but kept a baneful eye cast towards Cy-Kill and his Renegades until they were out of view.
Turbo couldn't stand being in the same room with Renegades unless he was shooting at them. After a moment of awkward silence, he grumbled "Time ta' go..." and followed the pair from the room. He had his audio cranked up to maximum receive, gritting his teeth as he overheard the Renegades' laughter.
"Dim-witted idiot," Crasher smiled, tilting her head towards the door as it closed behind Turbo. "Cy-Kill, tell me you have a plan, tell me the plan is killing the rest of these crumbling Guardians and striking a bargain with Unicron!" She was hoping for a smile from Cy-Kill, an agreeable laugh, anything but the downturned frown he wore upon his face.
"Cy-Kill?" Fitor had never seen Cy-Kill in such thought. "You.. *do* plan on turning on the Guardians when the time is right... right?
"Sometimes the best plans..." Cy-Kill" whispered, more to himself than the Renegades "..are the ones unlike any you've had before."
The Renegades looked at each other.
"I don't get it." Cop-Tor said simply.
"No," Cy-Kill turned and walked towards the door, "You wouldn't."
In the control room Scooter stood at a console with Professor VonJoy. They stared at the monitor, simultaneously punching wildly at the keys. A white grid appeared on the emerald screen. Gobotron was displayed, every line of latitude and longitude marked on the pseudo-sphere. Leader-1 studied the diagram and saw with mounting horror a new addition had been made. A horn jutted from Gobotron’s upper right quadrant.
“I don't believe this!” he stammered, again finding himself unable to fully comprehend what had taken place. Though he had just seen the golden horn tearing its way up and out of Gobotron’s surface, it was different seeing its effect on a planetary scale.

“But that’s not all,” Scooter punched a few more keys. SmallFoot pointed towards a small square that appeared in the left corner. The orange mug of Stacks stared back at them. Though his eyes were little more than the windows from the cab of his truck mode, there was a genuine terror visible in them. “We got a hysterical transmission from Stacks as soon as we powered the place up, he said the same thing that’s happening here is happening in Gobo-City.”
“But that- that’s impossible, Gobo-City is-”
“Right here.” VonJoy pointed to the upper left side of Gobotron, and the computer inserted another horn, set in perfect symmetry against the right. Leader-1 shuddered when he saw how much they made the planet resemble Unicron’s likeness.
Cy-Kill watched the situation over Leader-1’s shoulder, uncertainty and anger wrestling within. In less than two hours Unicron had done what he'd spent his entire life trying to do. How could they hope to defeat an enemy capable of… this? An incoming transmission flickered onto the screen and cut off his thoughts. Spay-C’s face appeared, her yellow eyes wide with fear. One of the few GoBots that possessed a space shuttle as an alternate form, she launched herself into orbit shortly after hearing about Pathfinder’s encounter. Though errant strands of Unicron’s energy still crackled through the atmosphere, she found herself able to endure the pain it caused without much trouble. She was used to the harsh conditions of space, but the constant whips of energy from Unicron were pushing her to the limit.
“Spa-C?” Leader-1’s was concerned. After seeing what only a fraction of Unicron’s power had done to Pathfinder he had reservations about anyone being in the air while he was still active.
“I’m alright,” another string of purple energy crawled over her exterior and she winced, but refused to acknowledge the sharp pain, “Just a little breathless from the view up here. I think… I think you should all see these.” A series of detailed pictures littered the screen via Spa-C’s satellite hookup. Each showed the planet’s new horns in grisly living color. “But,” she sounded shaken, “It gets worse. I can't get any transmissions from Old Gobotron- I mean, Gobotropolis- here's why.” Another series of pictures appeared, each a small piece of a larger puzzle, slowly putting itself together.
“She’s giving us a planetary feed.” Scooter announced.
“You think?” Turbo muttered.
The horns protruding from Gobotron appeared again in greater detail. This time they could see most of the intricate markings, vents, and geometric designs that ran down the length of the massive curved pillars. There was no evidence of the constant pounding the Renegades and Leader-1 had delivered. The middle section came into view. They called the small sphere Old Gobotron, a dark home to the remnants of the original Guardian/Renegade conflict. Under watch of the elder machine Gorn, it was recently reconstructed and renamed Gobolopolis. Now it was in ruins, destroyed while being twisted to Unicron's dark design. Like a ring of Saturn, a golden circle of metal studded with silver bulbs encircled the center of the planet, affixed by four titanic spikes that stabbed straight through Gobotropolis in a symmetric cross. The bulbs flickered with red lights, pulsing in an erratic fashion.
“What… is… that…” Leader-1 posed the question; no one knew the answer. Silence filled the room and hung thick in the air. Spa-C sensed their horror, it matched her own when she had first seen it, both terrible and perversely beautiful at the same time. Their fear reflected her thoughts every time she laid eyes on the planet, a world she used to call Gobotron. Now it had been changed, transformed into this nameless abomination. Despite her insulated armor, Spa-C felt an artic chill course through her body.
************
The pulses had drained most of Unicron's reserve energy, but it was worth it. Unicron took a sadistic pleasure in dominating these… GoBots. Even in the midst of their most voracious attempts to drive him off, Unicron enjoyed their resistance. Their inability to do any significant damage to his alterations to the planet's surface pleased him. Nothing they attempted would be of any consequence. His consciousness was now nestled deep within the center of Gobotropolis, it swirled a brilliant green and drew upon the powers locked within the planet. Power fled from the cities and coursed into his essence. It increased intensity, replacing every light with a throbbing green-yellow glow. Gobotron looked three times the alien planet it was, an ominous laugh that shuddered from the core; Unicron’s new body.
*****************
Cy-Kill motored across the trembling planet’s surface, his wheels jumping over random chunks of debris. A select number of renegades followed his lead; Crasher, Fitor, Cop-Tor, Screwhead, and Loco. The plan had been laid out, their part in this clearly explained by Cy-Kill and Leader-1. Strange to see the two leaders collaborating on a plan together. Crasher couldn't help but notice a subtle strategic chemistry between the two as they mulled over the threat Unicron presented. She upped her speed until the unmistakable curve of Unicron’s horn came into view. It stabbed into the sky like a scythe, reaching towards planets he longed to devour.
“Alright Renegades,” Cy-Kill increased his speed with a roar, eyes dead set on the curved structure, “Let’s show this Unicron what GoBots can do!”
They changed forms as one, stomping to the ground in robot mode and stormed towards the tremendous spike. Fitor took to the air and fired a barrage of lasers from his fists. The shots smoldered against the metal. He clenched his teeth and fired again, growing more frustrated with each shot. It was like throwing matches at a glacier. He looked down and saw Cop-Tor having the same level of success with equal frustration. Firing with both hands he searched desperately for a chink in the armor- any weakness at all- anything. Groundside Cy-Kill and Crasher focused their blasts directly at the horn’s base.
“Keep shooting Crasher, show your true power!”
Crasher laughed her high pitched cackle, but the sound was devoid of its usual confidence. She wondered if anyone else realized they were literally fighting only a portion of the enemy. This thing, this… Unicron, had snatched their planet while they stood by and watched ; as if any of them could have done anything. If that was the case (and it most certainly was ) what did they expect to accomplish now? The plan ran through her head, she cycled her instructions over and over. It kept the fear from overtaking her. This wasn't funny anymore. The Gobotron War was her playground, if she lost a battle she could retreat and go home, fight again tomorrow. Now there was no guarantee she would see tomorrow, maybe not even the next hour. So she kept her orders running through her head to stave off the images trying to push themselves into her mind. The last thing Cy-Kill had said to her, quietly in confidence and passing as they took wing from the crumbling Command Center: “We’re the bait.”
Discharging so much energy was making Screwhead’s hand overheat.
“What’s the matter with me, this isn't what I'm good at!” He reverted to vehicle mode, a sizable drill tank, and ignited the silver twist of ridged metal. The drill whirred to life and blurred in a sporadic revolution.
“This is what I'm good at!”
Screwhead shifted himself into overdrive with a squeal of treads and screeched towards Unicron’s horn. The wall of gold metal resisted the pointed cone for what seemed like minutes. Screwhead became readily aware of the sparks showing his comrades and the mounting stress on the drill. It was beginning to jaunt unevenly as the interior gears responsible for the spin began locking and stripping from within. Smoke blew back from the point of connection, and then Screwhead’s drill snapped in half with a metallic clang. As Screwhead screamed, blind with pain, Crasher rushed past him and brought her right foot high, then stomped the smoking part of Unicron’s horn with authority. Immediately a wave of sparks erupted from the point of connection and focused itself into a zigzagging line of concentrated energy that hungrily raced up the length of the horn. With mounting hope Crasher watched the energy climb its way up through the gold metal undeterred. She chuckled, then laughed as the power seemed to magnify itself, leaping about the surface of the horn, diving beneath only to erupt in a volcanic burst again. The single shot had worked its way through the entire body of the target. Was this their ticket to victory? Crasher cackled, her confidence worming its way back to the surface.
“At this rate, we won't need the Guardians-”
A thunderous quake silenced her with an angry explosion, lifting her into the air and hurling her into Cop-Tor. Her circuits jammed as a magnified wave of her own explosive power surged back into her. Fire and powdery smoke wisped from Crasher’s mouth, her optics fogged and began to char from the inside, warping the glass lenses. She fell with a raspy choke, clasping her throat so hard her fingers dug into the metal lining as if she were strangling herself. The gesture was ancient instinct, it may have at least been comforting if she was still flesh and blood. Cy-Kill’s eyes beheld the horrible act, the severity of the battle bearing down on him. He understood more than his Renegades the significance behind what they were doing. They couldn't let themselves be wiped out, they had to get Unicron's attention. Had to. He knew where this fight was heading, and if they were going to die this day, they were going down swinging-every last one of them. His Renegades were terrified, it would only be a matter of time before their survival instinct took over and they fled. That could not happen. They would follow, but only if he led by example.
Cy-Kill bellowed in a fit of rage. His boot thrusters kicked in, propelling him towards the demonic spike.
"Don't run!" He screamed to his followers, "We are the the power of Gobotron!"
Landing before Crasher’s smoking body, he thrust both fists towards the target and focused.
"We..."
In his mind's eye, Cy-Kill could see his internal systems adjusting, redirecting every ounce of available energy from his power core towards his fists.
"Are..."
Energy crackled and soon swirled around his cuffed fingers.
"RENEGADES!"
A chaotic wave of power ballooned from Cy-Kill with a deafening roar and ripped through the distance separating it from Unicron's construct. The ground shook when it hit, the blast paused only for a moment before biting into the spike and exploding through the other side.Red-hot golden metal splashed across the battlefield, accompanied by a quiet hissing as it cooled. Cy-Kill glanced behind him and saw Crasher trying to move. She still had one eye left, and with it witnessed what he had done. They all had. The battle halted momentarily as Renegades gawked in disbelief at the punctured horn. Even as the wound resealed itself the truth could not be hidden from even the dullest of minds.
Unicron could be damaged.
As one they renewed their efforts. While most of their blasts still rebounded off the unnatural metal, their determination refused to waver.
Because Unicron could be damaged, which meant that Unicron could be-
And then things went from bad to worse.
Yellow strands of raw power too small to see at first, crept from the horn’s base and snaked across its full height. A crackle sounded, and immediately Unicron’s horn blazed with a brilliant light. The Renegades were blinded. Cop-Tor, unable to see, crashed into Fitor and sent the two spiraling to the ground in a ragged heap.
“Cy-Kill,” Cop-Tor managed to croak, “What’s going on?”
“It’s Unicron-” Cy-Kill rose a cuffed hand before his eyes and found it offered no shelter from the blinding sphere of light radiating from the horn, “He’s using his power.” He felt a smile tug at his cold lips. “Looks like we got your attention you cosmic blowhard…”
Barely able to raise his other hand, Cy-Kill clicked a button on his chest, granting himself access to a mutual radio signal connecting both Guardian and Renegade.
“Leader-1, NOW!”
The light enveloped him before he could finish the last word, and silence followed. On the other side of the planet, a similar battle had taken place. Those Renegades, led in their assault by the veteran Zero, shared in the silence of the others.
**************
Leader-1 stormed into the control room of the Command Center, “Unicron’s using his power, we have to act NOW! Scooter, set coordinates for Gobotropolis! Turbo, step on it!”
“You got it Leader-1!” Turbo reached for the wrong lever, corrected himself, and cranked the Command Center into drive. The dinosaurian ship rose with a roar of its remaining leg thrusters, then pointed itself in the desired direction. With a blast of exhaust they were gone.
Leader-1’s activated the communicator on his chest panel. “Attention all Guardians, the time is now! All Command Centers get to your designated coordinates, stick to the plan, we only get one shot at this!”
Leader-1 watched the screen and wished he felt as confident as he sounded. He tapped a nervous finger on the wall and thought over the plan. Cy-kill had insisted that he and his Renegades engage Unicron’s horns. He was adamant about it, obsessed with getting Unicron's attention and giving the Guardians an opening for attack. Leader-1 couldn't deny the plan was solid, but remained bothered by Cy-Kill's insistence on leading what would in all likelihood be a suicide mission. But pride was a powerful thing, how much could Cy-Kill have left when Unicron took Gobotron, the thing he had lusted after for centuries? Or was he just eager to end the lives of himself and his Renegades to spare them from the possible horrors of a long term war? A quick death was better than the tortures Unicron was probably capable of thinking of, wasn't it? But what was done was done. Cy-Kill and the Renegades were gone, and now they had the opening Cy-Kill had promised. They couldn't move until Cy-Kill provoked Unicron to action, doing so could have tipped the dark being off on their intentions- if he didn't already know. It was all they had.
He shifted and leaned against the wall, restless, then left the room.
************
SmallFoot sat alone in the supply room; a series of data tapes littered the floor around her. She stared intently at a small flashing monitor, thoughts racing through her cerebral core all the while. She had lots of questions about Unicron, hoping a handful of them would be answered by the various digital recordings she had gathered from their Earth companion Matt Hunter. Matt had become head of UNECOM, a sister organization to NASA. It was a position he hated, but unable to walk away from. General Newcastle named Matt specifically as his replacement, caring nothing for the rumbling down the ranks and Matt himself.
"UNECOM..." Smallfoot allowed herself a small smile when she thought about it, the irony was not lost on her. They were being threatened by Unicron, and here she was looking for help in the files of an organization whose name was too close for comfort. But there was no help to be found. Matt's position in UNECOM granted him access to top-secret files, but nothing came even remotely close to giving her any information on Unicron. She decided to try another approach.
"Well, Unicron's a bad guy, maybe I need another bad guy to get what I need..."
She logged into the security files of Stonegate Maximum Security prison, accessing the user account of one Dr.Braxis. The good doctor had been under lock and key after being abandoned by Cy-Kill. It didn't take long for him to be convicted for his involvement with the attempted Renegade invasion. He was placed in solitary, his only request being a computer. One had been provided, allowing him access only to a single email account and the prison's news network to keep him abreast of current events.
In theory, the doctor shouldn't have been able to cause any trouble and to date he hadn't. SmallFoot had her doubts, good behavior by bad people usually meant they were thinking of ways to cause trouble. She logged in through Matt's account, accessed Dr. Braxis' email and scanned through the various messages. Nothing stood out. She clicked on his trash icon and booted up a data recovery program. She wasn't surprised to see a number of files begin populating the program's list. These files hadn't just been emptied from the doctor's trash, at some point he acquired a special removal program that was supposed to destroy the data completely. It was a good program, most of the files were only fragments of data. Thankfully, Gobotronian technology was able to recover what the good doctor thought he erased.
She scanned through the files, noting with interest emails Dr.Braxis had been receiving from someone calling himself DRA.
"Curious..." Smallfoot pulled a short email that stated simply
"your problems sound like mine. see attached"
SmallFoot scanned the other recovered files and found the attachment.
"2005.zip, gotcha."
According to the data bits SmallFoot saw, this particular file had been accessed by Dr. Braxis hundreds of times. It was also the one that had been the most thoroughly trashed, as if Braxis himself had personally tried to destroy the information bit by bit. "You're ridiculously cocky, even by human standards." Smallfoot pulled the file into their own database and tapped a finger against the desk as she watched the recovery program stretch from 3% to 56%, and finally pinged as the file was reconstructed.
She opened the file, unprepared for the series of movie files that began to play.
The year 2005 flashed boldly atop the screen and went dark.
Unicron came into view. SmallFoot gasped, overwhelmed by the being’s presence even when captured on such a small screen. He was in robot form (though she bet she'd have recognized the horns anywhere), his massive form equal, if not greater than the very planet he attacked. Her eyes widened as Unicron brought a mighty hand down upon the planet’s surface, cleaving a canyon with the impact alone. It was then SmallFoot noticed two things. First, the planet was made of metal much like Gobotron, and second, there were beings on the world Unicron pummeled. Robotic beings. She watched one leap from a building. Poor thing, suicide probably seemed like a better way to go than allow Unicron to-
The robot fell a few feet, and suddenly changed into a fighter jet and streaked towards Unicron.
Smallfoot's jaw dropped.
The screen blinked and revealed another fierce battle raging against a background very similar to Earth… A second observation revealed that it WAS Earth. A tall red warrior stood strong, and across a distance towered his nemesis, a purple emblem emblazed upon his chest. SmallFoot zoomed in on this robot and tapped a key. The name: “Megatron: Decepticon Leader” wrote itself out in the corner. She returned the scene to the solidly constructed red warrior and tapped the same key. The words ‘Optimus Prime: Autobot Commander.’ Appeared. It was obvious where each of them stood. The malevolence in Megatron’s eyes sent a cryptic chill through SmallFoot as he collided with Prime. It was almost a primal rage within him, something she knew they had never seen in Cy-Kill even during their most violent encounters with him. What if it was this Megatron- not Cy-Kill, the Guardians had to battle? As if in morbid reply the computer clipped to a violent siege of an Autobot ship. Megatron transformed into a gun and was caught by one of his soldiers who immediately fired upon the hapless Autobots. A single blast tore through one and sent him crashing to the ground, smoke trailing from the exit wound. The rest of the Autobots jerked like stringless puppets as energy blasts ravaged their bodies. They, like the first, fell. Only one, badly injured, dared to clasp hold of Megatron’s leg. His courage was rewarded with a special delivery from Megatron’s fusion cannon; point blank. SmallFoot’s hand went to her open mouth as the screen froze on Megatron’s face. Such cruelty, such unbridled hatred. An image appeared next to Megatron’s, cutting the screen in half. A new face was displayed. A purple helmet (more like a crown than helmet she noticed) left a hard gray face exposed. Red eyes brimmed with malice as if staring at SmallFoot herself. She couldn't imagine what it would be like receiving a declaration of war from this wicked being, whose name was scrolling beneath his picture; ‘Galvatron: Decepticon Emperor of Destruction.’
She stood, eyes fixed on Galvatron’s face. These machines had been on Earth! But how? How did the GoBots never know about them? And how had these other machines never known about the GoBots? Another wink of the screen showed the red warrior again, Optimus Prime and his Autobots battling Galvatron and his forces. Another truck, a blue, white and red car carrier, rode at his side, a Hot Rod racer on his other. Two futuristic vehicles, one green, one pink, transformed in unison and drew their weapons. SmallFoot’s motherboard almost jumped from her throat. The pink one was female! She stood suddenly, almost knocking her chair over. She averted her eyes and looked at the wall, then the floor, as if she had seen something she shouldn’t have. A daring look back to the pink female robot (who the screen had identified as ‘Arcee’) sent her eyes once again searching downward, but this time they traced the contour of her own body. Everything came to such a hard point, every edge straight. The only curves on her body were the wheels she rode on. Such was not the case with this Arcee. Every limb was feminine; every movement (even during the ensuing battle) was graceful. SmallFoot shook her head, scolding herself for having such petty thoughts at a time like this, but couldn't take her eyes off the pink robot on the screen. She held up her hand and squinted at it, fuzzing the edges. For an instant she saw what she had been before; curved, rounded... humanoid. It had taken so long to forget, but it became easier to not think about what she looked like, actually *looked* like, with the war. It was petty, stupid to think about things like that with the Renegades constantly threatening this planet or that. If she felt herself about to look into a mirror, she would simply find Turbo and go over the latest strategy or Baron Von Joy's latest invention. Anything to keep from thinking about the blocky slabs of metal that replaced what was once very human and very feminine. It was why she, and most of the other female Guardians, held A.J so dear. Yes, she was a close friend, but few of them could deny that she was near them, they could live vicariously through her. Smallfoot tried to choke back the rising lump in her throat, angry at herself for getting so worked up over something so... so stupid when Gobotron itself was being threatened. But she couldn't help it. She sat back down in her chair, buried her face in her hands, and cried.
Leader-1 had just opened the door when he heard SmallFoot’s sobs. Trying not to clank when he stepped, he opened the door a crack and peeked inside. For a moment he caught sight of the monitor flashing pictures of a robot that bore a striking resemblance to an Earth female. The screen flickered and began to cycle through its collection of video. Leader-1 felt his eyes open wide in awe of the robots as they fought valiantly against Unicron. They were amazing, so much more than simple machines, they- they… They changed modes as well?! He watched the one named Optimus Prime in action, noting confidence the robot conveyed even on a recorded image. Did that leader ever have a doubt in his mind, a reservation about a plan? The picture spoke a thousand ‘no’s’ as Optimus stood tall in the midst of battle. Would Leader-1 ever, or had he ever displayed such solid leadership? He unconsciously clenched his teeth together. Leader-1 knew some of his troops would answer that query with a resounding yes, but was it the truth? The worm of doubt writhed in his chest when he beheld Megatron. It twisted and rolled when he saw Galvatron. What kind of civilization was that? The same kind strong enough to fight (and successfully fight, his mind added) with Unicron and win. They must have won, it would explain why the dark being was here on Gobotron. Could he do the same, lead his people to victory? He no longer heard SmallFoot’s quiet sobs. His head was spinning. He closed the door and walked back to the control room.
**************
This planet was pitiful. Unicron had already drawn almost half of Gobotron’s energy into himself and it still left him wanting. If he still had his original body he doubted that he would have wasted his time with this world. Nonetheless, power was power, however miniscule. It took practically nothing to bring a quarter of Gobotron’s population to its knees, and it had been nothing to defeat Cy-Kill and his Renegades’ latest attempt to stop him. Unicron's mind throbbed momentarily, remembering the unexpected damage his new horn suffered at Cy-Kill's hands. The gobot was puny and insignificant, and yet... not many had ever been able to do what he had done... Deep within the core of Gobotron Unicron’s essence waited, expecting one final backlash from the planet’s inhabitants.
****************
Leader-1 re-entered the control room and glanced at the screen. As he had ordered, almost sixty Command Centers encircled the sphere that was Gobotropolis. He saw the massive city brightly lit by a power within Unicron and folded his arms, staring hard at the numerous perspectives he was being given by the monitors. Unicron was here alright. He didn't know how, but Unicron’s essence was inside the city they had worked so hard to revitalize, possessing it. Leader-1 strode carefully past Scooter and picked up a communicator that had been hardwired to an external speaker system. He tried to steady himself, calm his voice. He took a deep breath.
“Unicron, we know you've assimilated yourself into our planet's core. I ask you once; leave.” He paused, sighing to himself. As if things were ever that easy. “If you do not leave on your own, WE’LL make you.” He hoped it didn't sound desperate, but it did. This was it, after today-
A brilliant yellow light flooded from Gobotropolis like a physical wave. It illuminated the grooves and indentation along every Command Center present.
“What’s he doin’?!” Turbo yelled, the controls crackling with sparks. He was thrown to the floor when the keyboard exploded. Scooter screamed. One of the monitors to Leader-1’s left went black with smoke and burst, another winked to life, displaying Night Ranger. Leader-1's mind flickered back to the Optimus robot, his truck form resembled the young Gobot. He shook his head abruptly, scolding himself to focus.
“Leader-1!” Night Ranger's blue face was smeared with what Leader-1 hoped was grime and not his own oil. “We’re having severe technical difficult-” His image shattered as the screen erupted. Leader-1 felt the ground beneath his feet quake; a glance at the controls told him their thrust had almost fizzled out completely. Unicron himself was keeping them from drifting away from Gobotropolis. Another screen showed the other Command Centers experiencing the same troubles, bobbing dangerously like apples in poisoned water.
“Leader-1!” another screen blinked on. Stacks, distorted by horrible static, was barely visible. From what Leader-1 could make out, one of the Guardian's window eyes was shattered; a series of dents from falling debris marred his upper body. “What do we do?!”
Leader-1 threw a panicked look at the screen displaying Gobotropolis, now a shimmering yellow orb brighter than a newborn star. What else could they do? Leader-1 had hoped Unicron would run low on power once expending the blast that finished off Cy-Kill and the Renegades. It was supposed to be a simple seek and destroy mission to root Unicron out. It was supposed to-
“Leader-1, what do we do?!”
It wasn't supposed to be like this!
“Leader-1!!”
He grabbed the communicator and roared “Attack! ATTACK Guardians!! This is it!” With those words the main display monitor trembled and exploded, raining large hunks of glass upon every GoBot in the room. Their view of Gobotropolis had been taken.
“Leader-1,” Turbo turned towards his commander and didn't like the odd look on his face. Leader-1’s teeth had clenched again, he had lost himself in a single thought after giving the order. Attack. Attack what? Their own planet? How did he know this wasn't exactly what Unicron wanted them to do? To ravage their own world for his sick amusement? What would the red warrior have done? Would he have just sent his troops out to die?
“Leader-1!” it was Turbo again, calling from some far away place. He gripped Leader-1 by the shoulders, shaking him vigorously. “Leader-1, what’s wrong? Did Unicron do something to ya?”
“The- the attack!” Leader-1 snapped from his stupor and blinked. “The attack! We have to-”
“We are!” Scooter called, worry permeating every word he spoke, “At least, I think we're firing. I can't tell if we're shooting, much less hitting anything. Look!” The gauge levels fluxed uncontrollably. A geyser of steam rocketed from one, cracking the glass. A twinge of yellow highlights coated their bodies even inside the ship now. Structural integrity of the Command Center began to fade. Something boomed forth from Gobotropolis. It rocked the ships, whose perfect ring now wavered like a snapped length of twine. It came again, rocking the ships. Leader-1 noticed the sounds were not as random as they seemed. In fact, they were almost... rhythmic. It was deep, recurring; confident. Then something else accompanied it. Laughter. Static struck their main screen despite its blown fuses. Through sight given by Unicron the entire brigade of Command Centers was shown to Leader-1. The GoBot commander knew it was only his ship that this had been given to. A ‘gift’ from Unicron himself.
“Dammit.” Leader-1 clenched a fist and watched as one by one the Command Centers, over 200 of them, erupted in a cloud of yellow explosions. Their screams blared from the monitor, wove themselves through the fried speaker systems. Unicron meant for him to hear as well as see this.
SmallFoot had entered the control room when the attack began but said nothing; her eyes were affixed to the broken screen that displayed the unfolding carnage. The light was blinding, but in the sea of yellow brilliance came a series of bubbly white explosions marking the inevitable approach of their doom.
“Keep firing!” Leader-1 ordered, still not knowing if their weapons even worked (they didn't.) Maybe they would get lucky, maybe they- Another Command Center exploded. They were going two at a time, and with mounting horror Leader-1 realized the destruction had started on the opposite side of the ring and was, quicker than he could comprehendible, making its way towards them. The monitors and sound system blared with the screams, a shrieking testimony to their destruction. Only 20 remained, they blew two at a time. 10. Leader-1 stood and realized that he was helpless- a failure. All their planning, all their strategizing had come to this; forced to sit and wait for death to come. He had led his fellow GoBots alright, right into the mouth of destruction. Soon even Leader-1’s thoughts were drowned out by the sound of the final Command Centers erupting. 6 left. The only sound in his head was the steady, inevitable, boom-boom…
Leader-1's head lowered, his eyes closed, his teeth ground against each other as he tried to hold in the storm of self loathing welling up inside him.
boom-boom…
Turbo, Scooter, and Smallfoot stood close to Leader-1. They each placed a hand on his shoulders, his arm.
Boom.
A tear rolled down Leader-1's face. He whispered,
"I'm sorry."
Boom.
Everything went white…
***********************
How was it that he was waking up? Was he waking up? Was he alive? Vision was denied him for a moment; blankets of white light blurred his optics. Leader-1 felt every gear and length of circuitry scream in horrible agony. He screamed along with it, and heard nothing. A strong hum resonated in his audio. His body felt like nothing, if indeed he still had one. Still trying to see something in the blaring void, his eyes were rewarded with a thin outline of… a circuit? A thin glint traced an invisible outline.
“Where... am I?” He thought. The question sounded ridiculous. Did it really matter? For all he knew he was dead, he soul was running endlessly towards a light they could never touch. He had no weight. He was… floating??
“Uhhnnn…” he heard himself groan. Vision found him- so did more pain. A hot rib of it wrapped around him and constricted. It hurt too much to scream- but he tried anyway. He tried to look around, and found even that was painful. Through the spiderweb cracks in his vision, Leader-1 caught glimpse of his mangled arm. It frightened him. The limb was nothing more than a twist of metal, mangled as if a hungry creature had chewed it until bored. A crushed hand missing three fingers hung at the wrist, connected by a total of four wires. More of them looped together and dangled from the elbow joint- if you could call it that anymore… Most of the outer metal was gone, the wires glistened with freezing oil. Was the rest of his body this bad? He had to ask? The communicator panel on his chest sumped inward. It sparked, his audio detected the slightest hint of a groan coming through it that was not his own. SmallFoot. When he tried to speak her name, a slather of oil poured from his mouth and drifted into the space before him in a slow moving ribbon. Turning his head brought a fresh wash of pain, but allowed him to see SmallFoot. She was less than a meter from him but looked- and sounded, so far away, a testimony to his damaged perception. Another GoBot floated beside her; Turbo. At least, he thought it looked like turbo. The right side of his face had been charred; a splatter of red was all that remained of his original paint job. His windows had all been either shattered or melted, leaving a thick hole in the bot’s chest. Beside him was Scooter, recognizable only by his size and proximity to Turbo. As Leader-1’s vision quarked in and out he could see a continuous line of Guardians, every one of them somehow alive, but dying chunks of metal like himself. Something told him to look to his right, and despite the pain he did so. Cy-Kill floated in place next to him, his face a blackened mask revealing the remnants of a single eye surrounded by flecks of mustard colored paint. His torso was crushed in on itself as if struck by an air hammer repeatedly, he was missing his right arm, his left leg ended at the knee in a horrible tear. Cracks ran throughout his body so thick Leader-1 could count the number of wires running beneath the surface. The rest of the Renegades looked worse. Lifeless, expressionless if they still had faces. They had seen Unicron's power up close and personal. Leader-1 turned his head away with a pained sigh. He failed.
His friends were dying, he didn't understand how they were, but soon it wouldn't matter. None of them were in any condition to help one another. His plan had been a joke, and because of that his world, Gobotron, had been lost. In less than twelve hours Gobotron’s entire population had been reduced to space debris. He shuddered, feeling the coldness of space creep into his body. A failure… he was a miserable failure-
“Greetings, Leader-1.”
His eyes went wide. What was that voice in his head, in his audio receptors?! Images rushed through his mind when the voice came, a jarring flash of a being, an awesome dark God.
“U-Uni-cron…” he croaked, voice warbling in an attempt to maintain a single tone.
“Your self pity is wasted.” The voice came again in a blast of light and mental images. Leader-1 saw Gobotron as a new entity, a pair of wicked horns jutting into the air like pincers, the sphere of Gobotropolis shimmering like a sun. This was the light he was staring into now; he was face to face with Unicron.
“Why…” his failing voice managed, “Why... a-a-are we-”
“Alive?” Unicron finished, an edge of amusement in his voice. At least the GoBot realized that he, by all means, should be dead. Speaking with a burst of light and a thunderous rumble Unicron addressed Leader-1.
“I have chosen to preserved you.. for a moment.”
“W-what?” Leader-1’s oil pump was slowing down… slowing…
“Your planet disappoints me. I have tapped its energies and have gained an insignificant amount of my true power. However…” he paused, making certain Leader-1’s attention was steadfast, “There is a place- a planet, that suits my needs. Cybertron.” A quick flicker of images wandered across Leader-1’s mind. Familiar images from Unicron rung a bell within… his mind cross-referenced the images SmallFoot had been viewing earlier. Then it struck him- the one called Prime, the tyrannical looking Galvatron… So their planet was called Cybertron. it's image warped into Gobotron, and suddenly, from nowhere Leader-1 felt a twinge of resentment. Why Cybertron? What was wrong with Gobotron? Leader-1 couldn't shake his head, but he nodded it back and forth. What was he thinking? The question was ridiculous! But it refused to leave his mind. Unicron had conquered Gobotron and now he demeaned it? Leader-1 felt sick, unable to understand why he was asking himself- shouldn’t Gobotron have been enough to satisfy Unicron? He tried to force the questions, the skyrocketing insecurity away, but though his body was almost destroyed, the worm of doubt remained healthy and active as ever. It crawled through his as Unicron spoke again.
“Cybertron…” the word rolled from Unicron with a loving desire, and once again the insecurity flared within Leader-1, “Despite your inferiority, I have detected a glimmer of potential in your kind. I present your planet with… an offer.” He paused a moment, letting the words seep in, “Your current forms are a disgrace. You would be no match for any of Cybertron’s populace.” He seemed to spit the word ‘any’, like a master scolding his slave. “I will provide you with new bodies, and upgrade your current forms. You will destroy the Transformers, and prepare their world for me. In return, I will abandon this pathetic sphere, and claim Cybertron as my own. These are my terms.”
It was insane. Leader-1 opened his mouth the tell Unicron he was more delusional than the Maser Renegade, that he would never work for him, never-
A voice, cracked and lined with fatal urgency, called from Leader-1’s right side.
“I Accept!”
Leader-1’s head snapped towards the voice in shock. Cy-Kill had a half-melted hand feebly raised, dying fingers splayed towards Unicron as if reaching for a divine light. Leader-1 saw desperation scrawled across the faces of the other Renegades, Cy-Kill had spoken for them all. A period of silence came, then a pleasant boom from Unicron.
“Excellent. Prepare yourself.”
Something in Cy-Kill suddenly clicked into place. A blinding green light enveloped Cy-Kill and his Renegades. Cy-Kill felt his body seize and burn with a jarring pain that almost wiped his central core. A bolt of electricity raced about his body and through his circuitry, realigning and readjusting itself. His chest flared bright red, the metal expanding and shrinking to match his changing mainframe. An outline of his internal circuitry became visible in a blaze of red and green lights. Layers of metal appeared, wrapping bands of new alloys across the changing body. Cy-Kill’s eyes reformed and laced themselves with new fuses, new layers of glass. Another surge of power washed across his face, wiping the old look away and replacing it with a new visage. A splay of light erupted from the center of his forehead and arched back. A gold fin of metal remained, his new mohawk. Flashes of green light came from his new eyes, and changed to yellow. A glance at his new hand brought a wicked smile to his face. His fingers were no longer bulky curls of iron, they were remolded into rounded, segmented digits. A single thought brought a throbbing glow of yellowish energy across the hand. New body, new being. Cy-Kill let out a chilling, crazed laugh as he realized the raw power he now possessed. What he had known was nothing compared to this, NOTHING. Only one thing still bothered him.
“I hate my name,” he sneered, “Cy-Kill… ‘the hell was in my head? That doesn’t scare a bot…” his new voice, deeper with a gritty echo, impressed him. His smile returned.
“No,” Unicron agreed, “it does not. I shall give you a new one. From this day forth, you will be known as Blane.”
Cy-Kill- Blane grinned at the new title.
“Works for me.” His head snapped to the right. His Renegades were experiencing the same upgrade. A cackle thundered from Crasher’s new body. Black and purple curves rounded her form. Her frame remained as solid as before, but now she was streamlined, every limb and section of her body molded to suit her sinister needs. She threw her head back and laughed again, her smile cutting across her face in a wide arc. Fitor’s new body still seethed with residual energy from the change, a pair of jagged silver jet wings flared from his back, complimenting a body that was now more capable of delivering destruction than it ever had before. He was anxious to discover how his alternate mode had been changed as well. Cop-Tor shared his anticipation. Samurai-esque shoulder armor jutted from each of his reformed shoulders; his claws had split into three talons. The rotor upon his back now hung lazily in his hand- remade as a wicked sword. The Renegade mutants shook from the sudden evolution of their bodies. When the change completed, energy slithered across their limbs as they drifted towards a single, thin green Renegade. Her purple eyes were thin slits, flashing brightly as they neared. Vamp welcomed the thoughts she now shared as her mind connected with the insectile Renegade mutants; her new brood.
The Renegades could not believe the sheer amount of power coursing through their bodies. Their vision, audio and who knew what else felt heightened on a phenomenal scale. What had happened to them? And more to the point, who could stop them?
Unicron knew Leader-1 saw the newly reformed Renegades, it brought him pleasure to know how powerless the Gobot must have felt.
“You see what you could aspire to be, Leader-1? I await your answer. ”
Blane’s eyes narrowed and he turned to Leader-1. The Guardian still hung in space, a crumpled heap of metal and circuits. "You heard the Head-man..."
His fingers balled up and he thrust his face almost nose to nose with his enemy.
“Accept his terms fool!” he screamed, a strip of yellow energy thrashed across his hands, “You’ve got NO idea what this FEELS like!”
Leader-1 tried to focus on Blane through his cracked visor. Light radiated from the Renegade, he was surging with power. A cold shudder crawled through Leader-1, and he weakly lifted his head.
“Why... do you... care?”
Blane rolled his eyes. “See that’s the thing, Leader putz. Nothing’d make me happier than seeing all you losers wiped out, but we can do that anytime. Now we're talkin’ inter-planetary war. I’ll be defunct in the head if you think I just want my Renegades catching bullets. Give me a Guardian body shield any day of the week.” Blane folded his arms, "And correct me if I'm wrong... but weren't you the one jawing about us working together?"
That wasn't fair. Yes, he was willing to compromise and team with the Renegades if it meant stopping Unicron from taking Gobotron... but this...
Blane leaned in closer, his smile widened as he whispered to Leader-1, “But go ahead, refuse. Become driftmetal. But, I want you to know that when this is all over, I'm makin’ a little social call to Earth. Specifically, to your little human pals. And right before I flatten their skulls with my heel, I’ll tell em the mighty Leader-1 was too busy feeling sorry for himself to bother tryin’ to stop me.”
He pulled away and laughed, “Won’t they just love that?”
Leader-1’s eyes dropped away from Blane. He wasn't just being asked to decide the fate of himself and every Guardian that sacrificed their lives for Gobotron. Now his friends on Earth were in danger. But his best efforts still left Gobotron in the mess it was in now. What could he possibly do? wasn't there anything else he could do? He could feel energy radiating from Unicron- and suddenly saw that red robot from SmallFoot’s data feed. That red robot wouldn't have wound up like this… Again his teeth clenched despite the servos in his jaw screaming in painful resistance.His vision began to fade again. He felt tired... so tired...
“DECIDE damn you!” Blane’s thundered, “Decide! DECIDE NOW!!”“Blane’s snarling voice shot through Leader-1's skull, What’s WRONG WITH YOU Leader-1?!”
Leader-1’s voice came in a pitiful whisper. His eyes dimmed, his head lowered.
“Nothing’s wrong with me…”
Leader-1 made a decision.