So this has been cross posted from ao3 because my wifi is being a turd and blocking it and I refuse to let this story go. Enjoy and maybe give me some feedback?


When people think of aliens, the image that usually springs to mind is of little green men in a flying saucer, visiting from the stars. The one question that humans were never able to answer was "Are we really alone?" However, their answer didn't come from the stars, but from a fissure at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, right in the middle of the Marianas Trench. Beings came pouring through the portal between dimensions, beings capable of flight and deceiving the most advanced tracking systems the world had ever seen.

When they came they were completely unprepared. First it was Blackout in Mission City. Thirteen thousand people died in the first attack, and the creature managed to make it 35 miles inland before it finally fell. People mourned, memorialised it, and slowly, oh so slowly, began to move on.

Then, six months later, Demolishor hit Shanghai. And then Trypticon laid waste to New York. Rampage in Paris. Starscream in Chicago. By the time the fourth attack happened, humanity began to learn. These creatures, these Decepticons, they weren't going to stop until someone made them.

And so they began to create monsters of their own.

Of course, there were some kinks to work out of the programming before they were battle ready. The neurological strain was far too much for a single pilot to handle, and so a two pilot system was worked out. One pilot took the left hemisphere and one took the right. It was a perfect system- the trouble was finding two people who had that kind of bond. In time, the solution came to them. Countless people volunteered for the program, but only the best of the best got through. Those who had an extra special something about them. Those who were drift compatible.

Their first creation was named Prima; a huge Mark 1 equipped with a sword the size of an oil tanker, forged by Primus Inc. After the huge success of their first bot, they built another. And another. And another. Micronus, Solus, Nexus; each one created with a specific task in mind, each with unique abilities of their own. Together, they were unstoppable.

And then the unthinkable happened. A virus had been placed in one of their beloved Primes whilst no one was looking. One of the smaller Decepticons, Frenzy managed to make his way past all of their early warning systems and turned their own weapons against them. The Primes were betrayed by one of their own.

Megatronus was forced to destroy the city of London that he was stationed at and effectively "killed" Solus. The others were forced to put him down or risk the same fate themselves. The pilots of both 'Bots were lost.

An even greater threat reared its head – a massive Category 5 Decepticon named Unicron – and whist they managed to defeat their enemy, it was at a great cost. None of the Primes returned to their homes.

And so they tried again, this time with more varied Autobots. First came Alpha Trion. Then Beta. Omega Supreme was the largest of the Mark 2s, and fought harder than any of the others. And yet still he fell to a Decepticon known as Devastator protecting Crystal City.

The first of the Mark 3s was simply known as Optimus. The new, improved design for the 'Bots allowed humans to pilot larger, stronger mecha. With the new Mark 3s humans were able to fight better than ever. With the Mark 3s humans started to win.

They were known as the best of the best, the Kings of the 'Cons, the ones who stared at the oncoming storm and started to fight it.

They were the ones who people came running to when there was trouble, the ones who gave humanity hope again, superstars in their own right.

And then they started to lose the fight.