It wasn't always like it had once been.

Cybertron hadn't always been the golden icon of prosperity and peace as it once was.

It had not always been a place of enjoyment and free living.

Once it had been a forbidden place, kept by another, harsher society.

Cybertronians had once been slaves to cruel masters. Those who oppressed the newly created race, fed them lies, controlled their every action, and took away their free will through evil programming that overtook their unexplored systems.

That was how it had been, after the Creation Cube had struck the wasteland planet; spawning the new, unnamed breed of beings.

They had been watched. By those who made it their business to watch all others with their many eyes.

They had been studied, understood, their schematics broken down and simplified, and at last they were able to concoct a way to control the metal beings.

The takeover had been easy. Effortless.

The chosen leaders of the new race welcomed them at first; welcomed their knowledge and assistance, though they never received it. The small numbered race was overtaken in a solar cycle; the proper programming forcefully installed into each of the young, helpless beings.

The little mechanical slaves were very useful to their masters. They were devoted laborers, wonderful guards and fighters, and the perfect servants to the wants and needs of those who owned them. They were nameless, as they were, in their master's eyes, replaceable amenities. Disposable to the point that death for the slaves was a common occurrence; either as punishment for any offense and crime or as sport in the gladiatorial rings that pitted the slaves against each other.

The slave population was balanced in death with life, as the master race controlled the breeding that was done among the slaves. Another freedom that the slaves had never known.

And it stayed like that, as the rest of the universe developed.

But then, as all regimes do, a revolution began; quietly at first, as the slaves began to understand their own bodily construction. They began to probe their boundaries, push into their own programming to see what they had been birthed with.

They discovered their chimerical abilities, purely by accident. But even so it changed their world.

The old leaders of the slave race began to stir and rebel, riots broke out, damaging the control center for the programming. The guards and gladiators fought against them, pushing the parasitic master race off their home planet. Their intelligent beings constructed cities and defenses, protecting themselves from every being slaves again.

The master race lost their slaves, the slave planet- which was so rich with energy, and worst yet; the Creation Cube, which was hidden away as a valued treasure of the little transforming race.

The leaders took their mantle, the seven of them becoming the governing protectors of the new race; guiding it into a new life.

And so the planet Cybertron began it's free life, with its inhabitants- the Transformers, as the universe dubbed them-becoming an advanced, peaceful race. The Golden Age was on the horizon as Cybertronians improved themselves and their society.

And the master race slipped back into its shadowy wait. Watching their little pets as they crested and fell into dissent, betrayal, and finally; war. A war that destroyed their society, morals, the Creation Cube, their planet, and their sanity as their leaders pitted themselves against one another.

They watched as the Transformers left their planet in a mass exodus; watched as a group traveled to a remote, primitive planet known as Earth. There, the Seven leader's descendant now resided, with the only shred of the Creation Cube's power- in the key he kept with him, the 'Matrix of Leadership'.

They had watched for far too long. Having perfected their programming, watching as the Transformers grew stronger themselves. That was easily remedied; they just made their programming invincible. Strong enough to take control over any Cybertronian.

But, just to be sure, a test would have to be conducted. Which was fine, as they were very good with science and tests. So, as they set course to the mudball planet, Earth, they felt satisfaction already.

Soon enough, the Quintesson race would have their little slaves back again.

This time; without hope of escape.