In one moment, the ancient and legendary city of the Autobots was wiped from the face of the Earth. In that one moment, a fortress that withstood the attacks of Megatron and the siege of Galvatron was destroyed. In that singular moment, the last of the transformers defending Earth were all obliterated....

Actually...nearly all. After the plasma blast dissolved into thin air, a lone Autobot emerged from the ruins of Autobot City. Springer groaned as he got up, his armor burnt and servos jammed. Quite frankly, he was lucky to be alive, let alone functional.

Springer gazed across what was once a virtually pristine landscape, seeing what resembled an atomic disaster. Everything, including the very last blade of grass, had been burned away. There was nothing alive, well...any native life at least.

There were a few other Autobots strewn about like toys. Some were moving, functional like Springer. On the other hand....there were those that didn’t....

Springer turned his optics away from those fried shells and towards the living transformers. Then he heard a moan. Turing behind him he saw a scattered pile of shrapnel moving. A panel lifted up, revealing an Autobot, one in particularly bad shape.

"Hang on, fellow!" Springer yelled to him, dashing over to his fallen comrade. His knees clunked loudly, gears chewing themselves up under the stress. Springer ignored the pain, figuring it could be repaired after he rescued the others.

Lifting off a panel, Springer jumped back in shock at the sight of a blackened body. It was Golden Bug! His body, once glittering a stately gold, the envy of even the most handsome transformer, had been tainted by black ash. Golden Bug looked up to Springer, his optics dark and empty.

"You’re blind!" Springer gasped, "Come on! We’ve gotta get you repaired before that giant tin ball blasts another...."

"No Springer," Golden Bug managed to say, "I’m done for." His voice was raspy, sparks constantly being coughed up. Springer said it wasn’t true, but it was inevitable. Golden Bug was unrepairable...even beyond the skills of a Quinetossen. His spark would be off-line in half a megacycle, if not sooner.

Something pounded from inside of Golden Bug’s chest. Springer reached down and used the broad side of his hand to clean the ash from the windows. He saw a human hand thud against the window, a face peering out at him.

The dying Autobot had sacrificed himself to save one of the inhabitants of Earth. Golden Bug couldn’t of done anything more noble than that. "Save him. Make sure....he lives on. He’s...the last son of the diplomat...." Golden Bug told Springer. After that, Golden Bug gave up his last breath, his head turning away.

Springer shuddered as he laid before Golden Bug, weakened by the sight of another of the great Optimus Prime’s followers passing. There were so few Autobots left already, and surely this disaster had taken the last of their line away. Springer felt that he might of been the last of his line...the last of the old Autobots.

"Help me!" a muffled voice cried to him. Springer looked down and saw the human looking up to him. The last son of the diplomat, Springer remembered Golden Bug’s words, The last in the line of Spike and Daniel. Springer reached down, pausing for a minute before tearing Golden Bug’s chest plate apart. He then took the young human into his arms and marched off.

"Come on now. We’ve got to leave this place..." Springer whispered to the human teen.

The new Prime on Cybertron met with his old allies in the Council Citadel two solar cycles after the visions started. Cheetarus Prime, Botanica, and the rest of Primal’s comrades came together, as well as the new additions: RedStreak and ThunderClaw.

RedStreak stood at Cheetarus’ side as always, his crimson fur contrasting the blue-green technorganic metal of his robot mode. ThunderClaw rested above in the rafters, content to remain in his panther beast mode. He watched the meeting below him as the other elders gathered together.

Cheetarus assumed his position at the head of the Council of Elders. One of the four elders to his right picked up a malet and cracked it against the table. "Let this Council of the Maximal Elders come to order." he said the opening statement.

The new Prime stated the nature of the council. "Fellow transformers, ever since the Great Reformatting twenty-nine stellar cycles ago, we vowed to work as a united Cybertron to ensure its future remains bright, and that the horrors of Megatron are never repeated."

Rattrap listened to Cheetarus Prime recite the grand history of Cybertron, from the Great War to the Techno-Organic War, down to this very day. In the twenty-nine cycles since the last war, Cheetarus had become quite the speaker, developing his leadership skills as he became a fully mature adult, a truly charismatic transformer.

"Heh. Talk about embellishing the role of Prime." Rattrap quietly told Botanica, who smiled at him.

"He’s a Prime. Primes always have a reputation of long speeches." she said.

Cheetarus turned the floor over to Botanica, who stepped up to the council. The lights dimmed, save for the spot Botnica stood upon. She waited a moment for all eyes to be upon her, gathering her thoughts together.

"Maximals," she began, "I....have received a vision....from the Oracle itself...."

"Impossible!" one elder blurted out. Botanica turned to see one of the eight old elders rise up from his seat in defiance. "The Oracle’s been dead for nearly thirty stellar cycles!"

"Not dead! Merely....dormant." said Botanica.

"Then why did your investigation into the Oracle’s power grid show nothing?"

Botanica was speechless for a moment, unable to explain. In response, she said to all the elders in general, "The Oracle has yet to be explained. We know little about it, even after so much time. It is not merely part of Vector Sigma....but an extension, a link to the Matrix itself!"

The elders all spoke up in a jumble, but Cheetarus rose up and swayed for them to be still. He allowed Botanica to continue, to explain what she saw, and how she interpreted it. For a moment all listened, but after she finished none of them believed her. None, not even her comrades Rattrap, Silverbolt, and Blackarachnia took her seriously.

They have no connection with the Oracle. They can’t understand what I try to say, Botanica thought. After all, what transformer would believe that Unicron himself had returned after the power of the Matrix vanquished him?

A pain swiftly struck Botanica in her abdomen, one that was sharp and agonizing. The entire council leaped down when she toppled over, ThunderClaw himself hopping down. "Botanica!" Cheetarus said. When she looked up, they saw a brilliant white light eminating from her eyes.

The Oracle was calling her again, dragging her very spirit from the physical world into the Matrix. She saw sparks, millions of spark fluttering around her, all speaking her name. "What is it? What do you want?" she asked them.

She was drifting above Cybertron, in space like her previous vision. As one of the moons swept by, a tiny point of light appeared from the stars. All the sparks converged on that point, including Botanica’s very own. Then she felt a strange power, the prescence of a strong spark. It was the spark of an ancient transformer....and it was coming to Cybertron....

When Botanica awoke, she found a swarm of eyes upon her. She was scared at first, feeling a dozen hands pulling her back up. Rattrap grabbed her by the waist and asked what was wrong.

"A spark!" she exclaimed, "An old spark is returning! Someone is coming to Cybertron!"

"What in the galaxy are you talk’n about?" ThunderClaw growled, approaching her on all fours.

Before anyone else could say a word, klaxons began to wail all over the Citadel. Red lights went off, casting an eerie glow over the chambers. Panels in the floors opened, tehnorganic consoles sprouting out from below. Snowy computer screens came online with controls unfolding like leaves from them.

The main holoprojector activated automatically. "Alert, unregistered object approaching." the computer spoke. A three-dimentional hologram appeared of Cybertron and a single moon. A flashing red dimond appeared, apparently headed straight for the planet.

"What is that?" Blackarachnia shouted, pointing to the hologram.

"Processing request..." the computer acknowledged, obeying the spider’s implied statement. It zoomed in upon the diamond icon, revealing it to be a winged spacecraft. "Object identified as Cybertronian shuttle; class unknown. Targeting...."

"No! Wait!" Botanica cried, "The spark! I’m sure it’s there!"

RedStreak ran to a console and tried to access the central computer. "The orbital platforms are coming alive! They’re targeting the ship! I-I can’t stop it!" he shouted.

Cheetarus stood there in a frozen state. A billion thoughts crossed through his mind. The planetary defenses weren’t properly reprogrammed yet - most were still following Megatron’s ancient commands. They would destroy the shuttle before they even had a chance to contact it!

"Prime! Do something!" ThunderClaw bellowed to his leader.

He snapped out of it. "Computer, emergency transmitter," Cheetarus Prime commanded, "Voice code: Optimal. Transmit auto-destruct sequence to all orbital platforms, stat!"

Amid the chaos in the room, the computer said with a calm, soothing voice, "Acknowledged."

In high orbit, the shuttle was coming in at a steep angle. Once it crossed the threshold of the innermost Cybertronian moon, tens of defense weapons started firing. The shuttle was unable to maneuver well, the blasts hitting with blinding speed. Before the pilot could throw up an energy shield, a final blast knocked down the starboard thrusters, causing the ship to lose stability.

The self-destruct command reached the platforms in millicycles. All at once, half-a-dozen exploded in yellow balls of fire. This aided the incoming vessel little, for more than half of the platforms remained functional, all still targeting the ship with powerful weapons.

The ship entered the atmosphere of Cybertron fast, and were it not for the shield it would of been torn to bits and vaporized. The sudden shockwave overloaded and completely blew out the shield generators, sending a power surge through the ship. With shields down, the vessel turned white-hot as it sped downwards.

Cheetarus had little time to think. The holoprojector displayed the shuttle’s trajectory over Cybertron, calculating the landing zone to within a few square meters. "Unidentified shuttle will be landing over grid Omicron-9 in twelve point eight millicycles. Forty percent chance of survival...." the computer coldly stated.

"Everone! Prepare for casualties!" Cheetarus Prime yelled. Turning to RedStreak he ordered, "RedStreak! Fly out there as fast as you can! Try to save the shuttle!"

"Will do Prime!" RedStreak raised his hand and saluted. He jumped into the air and transformed to vehicle mode, helicopter blades rising out of his shoulders and spinning at maximum rpm. His fox tail still swung behind him as he soared upward toward a vent in the ceiling. He navigated the dark tubes until he reached an exhaust port where he met clear, blue sky.

RedStreak was able to get to grid Omicron in ten millicycles, sparing him just enough time to scan for energy signatures. He searched through the entire spectrum, but found nothing. "Time for a different tactic," concluded RedStreak, "Computer, scan for positronic signatures matching transformer spark frequency..."

Before a nano-click went by, his internal systems blurted out, "Transformer spark located. Matches Maximal-Autobot signature. Currently closing on grid Omicron."

The Maximal flew high above the landscape, still trying to find the spark. Finally, the shuttle came into visual range, and it was falling fast. RedStreak tried to catch up with it, but it was impossible. The shuttle was zooming faster than greased lightning, spinning uncontrolably.

An instant before the shuttle crashed, RedStreak swore he saw something fly out of the ship. The explosion was huge, powerful enough to send even RedStreak spiralling away. That still didn’t stop him.

After regaining attitude-control, the Maximal flew into the burning plume rising from the crater. Even in infared he couldn’t peer past the ash drifting upwards. His sensors were still set for spark-tracking though, and a millicycle later he relocated the spark.

RedStreak found it in a heavily forested area; a single, large transformer had plowed his way through, lying amid broken branches while stuck in a vehicular form not unlike his own. He transformed into his vulpine beast mode and crept up to the large machine. Then, RedStreak found on the scratched, emerald armor, an Autobot emblem.

Clicking on a com-link attached to his right paw, RedStreak called in, "RedStreak to Prime. The shuttle crashed, but there is a survivor: an Autobot."

Within ten millicycles, a whole fleet of Maximals, all under general Silverbolt’s direction, flew the unconscious Autobot out of the technorganic forest and back to New Cybertropolis. Black Arachnia, Botanica, and Rattrap directed the construction of a gigantic regeneration chamber for the Autobot’s repair.

Cheetarus Prime and all the Maximals waited outside the large chamber for the Autobot to be awakened. It took two and a half entire megacycles to restore the old transformer. The mechanical arms withdrew from the chamber as the restoration fluids were drained. Minutes later, the platform raised the Autobot up, revealing him in luminescent silver and green.

A low moan came out of the helicopter transformer’s body. The Maximals around him awaited for him to transform, but first he opened his cockpit chamber. Vapor billowed out, revealing a small control chamber. Inside was a command harness, with a Maximal-sized being resting inside.

"Help....him....out...." the Autobot said in a slow, electronic voice. Immediately ThunderPaw and Silverbolt came to his side, unbuckling the harness from the limp body. Removing him from the Autobot, they brought him over to Cheetarus’ feet. The helmet over the alien’s head popped off, rolling off the platform.

Silverbolt’s yellow eyes widened. "By the Matrix," he declared, "He’s....human...."

The human, adorned in a primitive space suit, laid unconscious. A mangled mane of brown-red hair grew from his head. Cheetarus knelt down and felt around his neck, noticing an odd pulsation beneath the skin. It startled him at first, being not used to feeling the flow of blood through a living creature. He was probably the first transformer to feel the beating of a human heart.

"He’s alive....I think. Better find a way to help him." Cheetarus recomended.

Botanica lifted up the human over her shoulder with all four sets of her arms. "I think it will be best for me to tend to him," she said, "I have...some familiarity with organic physiology."

"But what about the honk’n Autobot here?" Rattrap said, jutting a thumb out towards the large Cybertronian helicopter.

The platform shook. The words, "Autobot, transform!" thundered from behind the rodent. All the Maximals turned around and were in awe at the sight of one of their ancestors transforming. Each and every one of the Autobot’s components glittered as they shifted, forming arms and legs and a head crowning the whole body. They gazed upward at the mighty Autobot, his prominent red marking shimmering brilliantly.

This titan of old Cybertron stooped down towards Rattrap, his blue optics glowing brightly. With a stern face the Autobot said to the small Maximal, "It’s a bit rude to refer to a guy in the third person, shrimp."

"Hey!" Rattrap boldly wheeled his way up to him, engines reving. "You can’t tell a rat from an overpriced crusteacean? Sheesh! You Autobots are really out a’ date...."

"Ahem...." Looking behind, Cheetarus Prime was at Rattrap’s back, looking down at him bitterly. He implied for the rodent to shut his trap and leave the Autobot. Rattrap gave the Autobot one last look, then drove off, mumbling something about constantly being "looked down upon."

Cheetarus returned his attention to the Autobot. "It is good to see that old Autobot line is still around. I’m Cheetarus Prime....the....curent leader of the Council of Maximal Elders. I hope the trip wasn’t too ruff."

"No, I’m fine. And its good to see the Maximals are still managing their roles as the overseers of Cybertron." the Autobot smiled. The transformer stretched his arms, then looked around. He couldn’t help but notice the technorganic coloration of the walls, the various plants mixed in with cables and wires. "Though....I have a feeling something’s changed."

"You’re right. Much has changed on Cybertron," Cheetarus Prime said, "Apparently, Rattrap wasn’t altogether wrong about you....being a bit out of date...."

Across the vast galactic distance separating Cybertron from Earth, the new progeny of Unicron orbited the blue Earth after successfully destroying Autobot City. For days he simply floated alongside this world, scanning it, assessing its resources, making plans....

I need to make my strikes accurate and surgical, if I’m to utilize this world’s resources fully, thought Omegracon. Unlike the great Unicron, he did not have vast stores of energon within his core to fall back on. Were he to blatantly annihilate this planet, Omegracon would deplete what little he had.

Deep within the transmetal mantle of Omegracon lay a specialized chamber, a prison he created. In it, he held captive two dead transformers, two Vehicons he just happened to have run across. A beam of green light focused upon them, restoring their sparks and robotic shells.

Strika and Obsidian awoke in a vast chamber lined with twisted spikes and cylinders. The walls were a deep blue with sparkles of electrons running through them. The two Vehicons stood up and looked around, uncertain as to where they were.

"Obsidian?" Strika addressed her consort, "You’re....alive?"

He nodded. "We are....apparently. But what worries me is how we got here. The last thing I remember is that Maximal firing us into deep space and then...."

Suddenly the floor started to rumble. The walls came alive, shifting into weird new forms. Everything twisted and turned in this giant chasm, taking new forms and shapes. Panels slanted on the walls, changing....no....transforming....into a large face embedded in the wall.

The eyes opened, and beams of energy shot out at the two Vehicons. Strika and Obsidian struggeled, but they were lifted hundreds of meters into the air like puppets on strings. As the energy beams grew stronger, they soon found that they couldn’t move. They were turned about towards the giant face by unknown hands.

Strika’s eyes widened. "What...are you?"

The giant face’s eyes narrowed. "Something....you will never fully comprehend. I am a being beyond anything you’ve ever known, with unlimited powers and knowledge that reaches beyond the galaxy’s edge. All that you need to know is that I’ve restored you for one very distinct purpose."

The Vehicons exchanged glances then looked at the face once again. "And....that would be?" asked Obsidian.

The face spoke three words to them. "To....serve....ME."

Strika laughed. "Ha! We already have a master: Megatron! We will never betray him, not even to a monster like....AHHH!"

Both Vehicons were overwhelmed with searing pain rushing through their bodies. The energy beams turned from green to blood red, giving the room an ominous glow. The face just stared at them apathetically from its fixed position on the wall.

"AGH! WHAT....ARE YOU DOING?!" cried out Obsidian.

With a booming voice that echoed, Omegracon replied, "Decompiling your bodies. Since you refuse to serve me, I will destroy your useless shells and feed upon your sparks." As Obsidian and Strika writhed in pain, he further added, "I will not tolerate such waste and uselessness in my presence...."

"WAIT!" Strika cried out. Obsidian turned to her with wide eyes, unable to believe that she’d betray their allegiance to Megatron. "WE WILL SERVE YOU....BUT WE MUST UNDERSTAND....FOR WHAT PURPOSE?! TO WHAT END?!"

The energy beams turned green again, the pain halting. A grin actually began to form on Omegracon’s face. "Ah....my premonitions about your desires to....serve an ultimate purpose were correct. To be part of something greater....that is all the both of you wish for, is it not?"

Obsidian boldly shouted, "We won’t betray Megatron! Never!" Turning to Strika, he whispered, "How can you do this? How can you wish to serve a monster like this? Your loyalty...."

"Obsidian," Strika interrupted, "We have little choice. This....creature....is clearly the very spawn of Unicron with unlimited power. If all he wants is for a few tasks to be done, then it is logical to do them for our own survival!"

Obsidian snarled at her, unable to believe she’d stoop this low. Then, after gazing into her eyes, he sighed. Turning to Omegracon, Obsidian said, "Very well. We will serve you, but we won’t betray Megatron, no matter the circumstance...."

The floor began to transform beneath them. It turned into liquid metal, surging back and forth by unseen tides. Out of this small sea a sphere emerged, floating up to them by Omegracon’s very will. Strika and Obsidian gazed at the sphere, watching maps form on it, islands and continents taking shape.

"This planet," Omegracon began to explain, "Is vital to my purposes. I have scanned and analyzed every part of it; everything I need to know about it I know. All I require from you two is to take it for me. That shall be the first task of four I require of you...."

"The first?" Strika asked, curious as to what he meant, "Do you imply that you want us to do...."

"DO NOT QUESTION MY ORDERS OR DESIRES!" Omegracon bellowed. Obsidian and Strika were flung backwards as if by a cyclone, hurled into a wall. The undulating sea of metal below rose up, solidifying into a new wall with a new face emerging. "I have already made all the preperations necissary for you. Go now, and conquer this planet."

The two Vehicon generals were directed upwards to the surface, passing millions of conduits and chambers. Looking down, they saw emerging like hornets from a hive countless swarms of machines, drones virtually identical to the ones they used in the Techno-Organic War. Obsidian and Strika smiled, enjoying the feel of power once again.

Omegracon guided them to a platform he constructed for them on his surface. Strika and Obsidian were dropped onto it. "This....shall be your command carrier. Through this shall you command my minions, and none of the native-made weapons shall harm you." said Omegracon.

Strika looked down at the flat hunk of metal she stood upon. "What? This piece of sheet metal? Please tell me you’re kidding."

As if on cue, dozens of spires rose up around her and Obsidian. The very metal surrounding the platform shifted and transformed it into a huge spacecraft, one ten times the size of Megatron’s flying fortress, with the Vehicons riding at the head of it.

The massive carrier, adorned in dark transmetal armor, rose up from the body of Omegracon. Now the Vehicons had at their disposal the means to conquer a world. Tactical data was given to them through screens, all displaying not only Earth’s geography, but the locations of missile silos, ship yards, air and space ports, and the central command center of every major Earth faction.

"This won’t even be a challenge," chuckled Obsidian, "Their weapons are primitive, even by ancient Cybertronian standards. No space defense systems, no energy fields...."

"And most of all, no one united force to oppose us." Strika pointed out.

Obsidian gloated, "The supreme advantage of attacking a species as primitive as the human. They’re already divided amongst themselves..."

"And all we need to do is conquer," Strika grinned, "Maybe there will be a little fun to this after all....ha, ha!"

Their command carrier moved out with a swarm of roughly a billion drones following behind. On Earth, satellites in orbit detected the movement coming from the direction of Omegracon and alerted the leaders of factions like China, the Pacific Commonwealth, and the United States of North America. Each and every nation called upon their nuclear arsenals and aerial forces, summoning up every ounce of military strength humanity could throw at the oncoming menace.

Strika and Obsidian saw the missiles coming straight at them, just as they anticipated. "Long-range offensive attacks....just like the revolt of Dramadon." Obsidian quoted. With a wave of the Vehicon’s hand, a wave of drones flung themselves at the ballistic missiles, destroying or detonating them before they came within a hundred kilometers of the carrier.

But then, out of the blue one missile came flying directly at them. "Obsidian! Launcher with fusion devices coming from Beta vector!" Strika yelled. The rocket was coming too fast, the drones preoccupied or too far to intercept. Its cone opened up, deploying half a dozen fusion bombs.

A giant explosion occurred, the surrounding swarms of drones either vaporizing or blown away. Omegracron watched the dust clear from the blast and noted the human tactics. Perhaps I underestimated these creatures, he considered for a minute. Then, when the command carrier reemerged, he changed his position. Or not....

Inside, Obsidian and Strika were shaken up, but they survived without a single fried circuit board. "Omegracon designed this vessel well. This special plating....it absorbed the blast. Amazing material. What did he call it again?" Strika asked Obsidian.

"I believe it was....trans-metal, if I’m not mistaken." he answered.

Within seconds the pair of them recalibrated the weapons and collected together the surviving drones. The human weapons took a great number of their forces out, but Obsidian counted about eighty million still remaining. It would be sufficient to eliminate an entire continent’s contingent of air forces at least.

The Vehicons’ first target was one modest sized continent, one roughly in the shape of a Y. According to their strategic data, it possessed most of the missile silos, plus a full two-thirds of the opposing armed forces on this world. Once they penetrated the upper atmosphere, at least a hundred forms of aircraft came at them with lasers, machine guns, and short-range missiles. None of them penetrated the transmetal armor, and none of them survived.

In all, it took Obsidian and Strika twenty millicycles to obliterate all forces as well as a thousand settlements. "This is a new record Strika," declared Obsidian, "A quarter of a planet in half a megacycle...."

"Yes, a new one for certain....but let’s see if we can take the entire planet in one megacycle."

They moved eastward, following the rising Sun. More and more Earth cities fell, hundreds dying and millions more fleeing from them. Every military vehicle was taken out, whole armies vanishing in minutes. Without the aid of the Autobots, no human army was able to stand against Omegracon’s forces. North America fell first, quickly followed by Europe, North Africa, South Asia, and Australia. It would take a while longer to take out the stragglers and rogue nation-states, but now Obsidian and Strika had the whole planet in their grip.

By the end of their first solar cycle of service under Omegracon, the Vehicons had depleted ninety-eight percent of their energon resources - a small price to pay for enslaving ten billion people. Their master soon summoned them to return and refuel.

En route to Omegracon, Strika and Obsidian began to wonder. "We have an entire planet to ourselves now. Plus an army and ship at our disposal. Perhaps its time we....reinstate our allegiance to Megatron." suggested Obsidian.

"I would agree. Out original master would give his spark for resources such as these. Of course, the organic he’d need to eliminate....but we would have plenty of time for that."

Unknown to them, Omegracon was watching them constantly. Through the command carrier’s sensors he observed their progress and overheard their plans for betrayal. However, he anticipated such a move....

I remember well Unicron’s enslavement of Galvatron. Through that Decepticon, the Autobot Matrix was able to destroy him. Omegracon realized what Unicron had done wrong. He enslaved Galvatron....but his only mistake was to give him free will. The minds of these two are invaluable, but I can not repeat Unicron’s mistake....

Half a megacycle later, Obsidian and Strika were back within Omegracon, pretending to be eager to serve under his "divine leadership". In his name, the Vehicons requested to stockpile on energon to ensure Earth would be permenantly theirs.

As Obsidian and Strika stood in his prison chamber, pretending to be loyal subjects, Omegracon made plans. "I am pleased at your work. But known this....your first task was merely a test of your skills. While I undergo the transformation of this world into an operational base, the two of you must undergo your second task."

Around Obsidian and Strika’s platform, the floor slowly began to unfold, revealing an underlying vat of undulating goo. Inch by inch, the cold goo started to rise while the Vehicons remained fixated upon the face of Omegracon.

"And...what is this second task?" asked Obsidian.

"The pair of you must journey to the edge of your home system....to retrieve an ancient device, one you’d refer to as the matrix." said Omegracon, "The same device that destroyed Unicron....my father...."

"What?! The matrix? Unicron?" Obsidian bumbled, "They’re myths!"

"You’re a fool to believe such lies...." Omegracon said, "For at one time, I was Unicron....and I know of such things."

The goo climbed up to the platform, now level with Strika and Obsidian’s feet. Before the two Vehicons could notice, tendrils shot out, pulling them both down into the muck. As the two Vehicons started to wail and holler, feeling their very essences being dissolved, Omegracon spoke down to them.

"I knew what you were planning....I knew you both planned to betray, just as Galvatron betrayed Unicron. But I shall not make the same mistake...."

Obsidian watched as Strika sunk below the goo, trying to reach out to him. He stretched himself as far as he could, but her fingers slipped from him. Obsidian fired up his rotors and pulled himself up, the goo bonds snapping from his body. He fired a volley of fire at Omegracon’s face, causing it to shatter like glass.

"You won’t destroy us, Unicron!" Obsidian hollered.

Before his very eyes, the shattered fragments reformed, the face staring back at him once more. Below him, the gelatinous fluid rose up to engulf him like an amoeba. Obsidian flew up, darting each and every lash the goo made at him.

"Known this, Obsidian: I was once Unicron....but in the past four centuries I have become something more...." Omegracon said as Obsidian continued to avoid his tendrils.

Finally, one caught Obsidian, sending him into the void below. The Vehicon watched his body submerge, filling with fluid that ate away at him. In his final moments, he heard Omegracon say to him, "I am no longer Unicron, but Omegracon. I retain his knowledge and power, but I will be the one to avenge him....bringing to both this world and yours the tranquility of chaos. And you shall become a tool for me to complete my father’s revenge....and to fullfil my destiny as his successor...."

Obsidian was swallowed by the dark ink, joining Strika. For a moment, all was calm, but the fluid slowly began to bubble. "I, Omegracon, shall not destroy you, Strika and Obsidian, but reforge you, just as Unicron reforged Megatron."

The fluid started to glow a deep red, becoming boiling hot. Two shadowy forms began to appear from below. "You shall be my living weapons, striking down all that may oppose me...."

The fluid became white-hot in seconds, melting down Strika and Obsidian’s bodies. Deep inside Omegracon they changed, becoming something of his design. "You shall be my generals, to conquer all I shall consume...."

Cables jutted out from the walls, armed with grasping claws. They dove into the molten metal, reaching into the Vehicons’ remains. In an instant, the cables snapped back, dragging back with them a pair of sparks that crackled. "You shall be my messengers, to herald my arrival..."

The two Vehicons reemerged, lightning crackling from their new bodies. The new transformers retained the vehicle modes of their previous lives, but now were twice as powerful and ten-fold as strong. Obsidian floated on rockets, his rotors turned into blades. Strika’s wheels were now mounted on her arms, missiles and plasma blasters jutting out of her body like spikes.

Omegracron looked down upon his creations, proud of himself. They still possessed their individual minds, their memories and desires, but were stripped of their free will. As for their sparks....

The two pulsating lights were presented before Omegracron’s face. Violet tractor beams locked onto them. The sparks resisted, the free will of Sprika and Obsidian crying out. Their sparks weren’t strong enough, and were sucked into Omegracron’s eyes. Now these two were his, now and forever.

"Now, my warriors, go...and retrieve the matrix. Do my bidding...." commanded Omegracon.

The two reforged minions bowed, chanting, "We live to do thy bidding, Omegracon. We shall do what thoust has commanded."

Obsidian and Strika - or whatever that was left of them - flew off in the command carrier, taking with them another billion drones. While they flew off into the distance, Omegracon focused on the Earth.

From his stationary orbit, the spawn of Unicron sprouted a giant anchor from his body. Then he launched it at the Earth, a giant harpoon as large as an asteroid heading for one of its oceans. It took less than a second for it to plunge into the atmosphere and into the salty water.

On the surface, millions on either side of the Atlantic saw something shoot down from the sky and crash with thunder. A blast of air shuddered through the skies, knocking down all planes and blasting clouds away. Earthquakes rocked the entire planet from Brazil to Australia to Egypt. Soon after, waves a mile high swamped the African coast to the east and ravaged South America and the Caribbean to the west. Everyone on Earth knew at that moment something had happened.

Omegracon was now in direct contact with the Earth’s core. His harpoon slowly absorbed the tremendous amounts of thermal energy, tapping the power at the Earth’s heart. Yes! I can feel the power of this planet....the energy is now mine....

On Cybertron, Springer, the last of the Autobots, looked over the bright green and blue landscape from the heights of the Council Citadel. Cheetarus Prime and Silverbolt stood beside him, also looking over the beauty of Cybertron, wondering how the old transformer would take it.

"I can hardly believe it." said Springer, "It’s....it’s almost like Earth. So much green an-and blue. Hardly like the Cybertron I remember..."

"While you were on Earth, we Maximals were fighting against a new Megatron, one that was trying to take over the planet. And he would of succeeded....if it weren’t for Optimus and the Oracle." Cheetarus explained, "They reformatted the planet, using the combined power of the Key to Vector Sigma, the Oracle, and the organic core...."

"Listen Prime," Springer politely butted in, "You can tell me about this reformatting later, and I can adjust to Cybertron’s....new look....but there are other problems."

"Yeah....Earth." Silverbolt said, "Something’s invaded it, and destroyed the Autobots...."

The Autobot turned down on the Maximals with fire in his eyes, yelling, "Not just anything! Unicron! He’s back and going to destroy it! Then....after that, he’ll come and destroy...."

Springer put his hand on his head, a metal migrane forming in his processor. Cheetarus came up and tried to calm him. "I know. It must be terrible to see a nighmare you thought was gone years ago....and realize we’ve gotta face it again."