Apocalypse Rising
Series: Children of Primus, part 3 of 3
by Phantom

Author's note: The character of Nova is the property of Darcerin/Dark Angel. She is used with permission. She features in the fanfics Open Wounds, Closed Hearts and Broken Hearts Can't Be Mended by Dark Angel, which will both hopefully be available soon.

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The inhabitants of the planet of Kotor looked up in astonishment as a shadow fell across their planet. They jabbered to each other in a multitude of languages, wondering what this could mean. A monster? A visit from their god, demanding sacrifice?

A great maw opened, swooping down, tearing a chunk out of the planet itself. The Kotorians fell to their knees in supplication. Many of their number were slaughtered by their own hand, hoping to appease the voracious attacker. But the giant creature paid their activities no heed, far more interested in the planet itself. In a few short minutes, nothing was left of the Kotorians or their home world.

A dark, sinister chuckle echoed in the void of space. He was coming. His destiny would no longer be denied.


Chapter One

Perceptor stood at the head of the briefing room, addressing the gathered Alliance commanders. As I'm sure you know, it has been determined that Unicron has been hiding in the Sadut sector, constructing himself another body shell. Over the past few days, however, we have received reports of entire planets being destroyed. Gravitational forces in these areas have become dangerously unstable. There are reports of some giant creature in the area, but unfortunately, all attempts to photograph or record its image have been for naught. All that has been captured on film is a large black aura.

He turned toward a small, portable video player. Such is the case when we sent a probe to investigate the possibility of Unicron's reemergence. He pressed a button, and the assembled top brass watched the probe streak through space. There was a brief, fuzzy impression of something very large, which was quickly swallowed by an inky blackness. Then the picture went blank and snowy.

The gathered Autobots and Decepticons stared numbly at the static. There was no denying it. Unicron was back, and most likely heading their way. Before, the knowledge had been there, but the concept was intangible, easy to dismiss. But this was deadly reality.

Suggestions? Ideas? Optimus Prime broke the painful, fearful silence.

Run away screaming? Rodimus' comment was met with nervous laughter. He was famous for his gallows humor. The crack had helped to slightly ease the tension.

Megatron glanced once more at the monitor as Perceptor paused the image of the large, shadowy object. I don't see how we can do anything else than what we've already been doing. Train our troops, strengthen our defenses, stockpile ammunition.

Prime sighed inaudibly. Okay, then. We will step up our timetable. If anyone +else has any ideas at all, do not hesitate to bring them to Megatron, myself or Rodimus. Dismissed!

Megatron, Optimus, and Rodimus – the heads of the Alliance – shared a troubled look as their top soldiers filed out. It was nearly zero hour, do or die. Whichever happened would be up to them. The fate of the universe itself rested in their hands. It was a crushing responsibility, and one they were hardly equipped to accept. All they could do was hope and pray.

The Autobot and Decepticon forces were consumed by a quiet sort of panic as the reports of devoured planets mounted. Their inability to actually see the phantom attacker made them all the more nervous. What exactly were they up against? Would Unicron be even more powerful this time? The small prayer chapels were crammed full of supplicants, looking to their god for salvation.

The situation was quickly reaching a critical point. Cybertron had lost communication with the outer planets of its solar system, and though they seemed to still be intact, whatever was out there was blocking all ability to communicate with the outside world. Gradually, the metal planet was being cut off from the rest of the galaxy.

Megatron made his way anxiously through the halls of Iacon's Autobase to the offices of the Primes. There was no response from Optimus at all, so he moved to Rodimus' office. The younger Prime admitted him, nodding distractedly, still preoccupied with a pile of data pads, statistics and information on Unicron's approach.

We need to review our strategy and battle plans, the Decepticon said flatly. There is no room for mistakes. Where is Optimus Prime?

Rodimus looked distinctly uneasy. Optimus is currently indisposed.

Megatron looked indignant. What is that supposed to mean?

He's, um, occupied. Rodimus shifted under the steely gaze.

Occupied? With what? What could be more important than this? Indignation was rapidly becoming outrage.

Rodimus hated this! He's attending to some personal business.

So call him! We have no time for this!

Look, I promise he won't be much longer. Trust me, he'll be in a much better mood if he's not interrupted. He's impossible to deal with when he's disturbed. He rubbed his face, then shuddered, grimacing and looking uncomfortable.

Megatron stared at him. What could be so damned important that would keep Rodimus from contacting his co-commander? The young leader looked rather ill at ease, and it struck him that perhaps it wasn't just due to his own presence. Rodimus seemed to have a pretty good idea what was going on with Optimus. Suddenly the pieces clicked into place, and he chuckled. I see. Personal business, eh? That's one way of putting it. I suppose we could get started without him. Just contact him when he's through, all right?

Rodimus nodded, looking immeasurably relieved, though still quite uncomfortable with whatever was coming through the link. He picked up the data pad that Megatron offered him, surveying the layout of the new weaponry. Megatron took this opportunity to study the young Prime closely. He was nothing at all like what he thought a Prime should be. Though, truth be told, it was difficult picturing anyone but Optimus as Autobot leader, and that was probably coloring his perceptions. He had no disrespect for Rodimus, but this Prime was young and sometimes seemed headstrong and acted rashly. Then again, he was more unpredictable and innovative than the elder Prime. He had had only these few months to observe the Primes at work, but he had to admit that they complemented each other nicely. Rodimus' unpredictability countered Optimus' tried-and-true methods, and in turn Optimus' eternal calm balanced Rodimus' short fuse. It would be very hard for him to believe that this young hothead before him was indeed the Chosen One, the son of Primus himself, if he had not seen the Light God with his own optics and heard the truth from his lips.

Okay, I have to ask, Megatron said finally. Why can't we just use the Matrix against Unicron? Isn't that what killed him the last time?

Rodimus shook his head. First of all, the Matrix could not destroy him. It only destroyed his body, not his spirit. It did trap him within his head unit for a time, but it seems that he's found a way to escape. Second of all, the Matrix was drained when it was used to eradiate the Hate Plague. It has since begun to rejuvenate, but it's nowhere near as strong as it used to be. I doubt it will be of too much use against Unicron. Now this mysterious sword of yours might be more useful, if we knew how to use it, or even get it out of you.

Megatron fell silent, brooding. Finally he asked, How did you become the Chosen One, if you don't mind my asking? How is it that you are the son of Primus?

Rodimus looked mildly amused. I'm not sure I understand it all myself. I've managed to piece parts of it together, though. Optimus provided much of the information on my creation.

Megatron looked confused. Rodimus noted with an inward smile that it seemed to be the first time that Megatron had called Prime by his given name. How would he know about it?

This time Roddy could not hide his smirk. Optimus is my father.

Megatron dropped his data pad on the floor and had to crawl around to find it. Rodimus simply could not help but laugh. Is this some sort of joke?

Roddy tried to keep his mirth under control. It would do no good to anger Megatron, who already looked quite irritated. No joke, I assure you. I'm a 'natural' spark, the first one to be created between purely Cybertronian parents since at least the Golden Age. Megatron gaped, the expression almost comical. It was determined through a schematics analysis that I was created from Optimus Prime's genetic 'blueprints'. What happened is mostly conjecture. Optimus had a brief experience with a female who turned out to be my maternal creator. We think that Primus arranged for my creation by possessing or otherwise influencing Optimus through the Matrix, creating the ideal spark for the Chosen One. Primus must have then modified my schematics for his own methods, which is probably why I look more like him than Optimus. In essence, I have two 'fathers'. Not bad, eh?

Megatron just sighed and rubbed his head. He was sorry he asked. It all sounded too farfetched! Still, it was all so convoluted, who could possibly make such a thing up?

A short while later, Optimus Prime entered, having been summoned just minutes earlier. Megatron could not help but notice his rather satisfied demeanor. He seemed somewhat less tense and on-edge than he'd been in weeks. Megatron bit his lip and turned his attention back to his data pad before a giant smile could wrap around his head. It was good to know that Optimus was mortal like the rest of them, with the same needs and desires. Prime noticed the movement and shot him a confused look. What was that all about?

By now the three leaders knew their strategies inside out, but it couldn't hurt to triple-check everything. Having three different opinions was a definite help. Their troops were having an easier time working together as well. The threat of total annihilation had helped to kill all animosity between them. Both factions might profess to have higher motivations, but self-preservation proved to be the strongest of them all.

The alarm klaxon began to shrill, and the three commanders looked at each other in dread. It was a relief to have the tension broken, but at what price? Sit-rep, now! Optimus yelled into his communicator, demanding a situation report from Magnus.

The sound of gunfire came over the other end. A few good-sized squadrons are attacking the outer planetary defenses! Looks like the Yuniri to me, though I have no idea where they got such firepower. So far the big guns are keeping them at bay.

Thanks, Magnus! Optimus replied, already on his feet. We'll be there shortly. He turned the situation over in his mind as he raced to join the battle, Rodimus and Megatron hot on his heels. The Yuniri were a rather insular race, notoriously bad-tempered, and quite xenophobic. It was unusual that they would attack another civilization unless they perceived that their territory was being invaded. Also, they had never been well armed. He strongly suspected that Unicron had tipped the balance of power in his favor, offering the Yuniri greater strength and better weaponry in exchange for an attack on Cybertron.

Magnus was out amidst the organized chaos, shouting orders. The enormous long-range guns were doing an effective job of keeping the invaders at bay, but Magnus was never one to underestimate an enemy's strength. Aerialbots, attack, left flank! Sweeps, right flank! Let's try to box 'em in! To their credit, the Sweeps did not utter a single sound of protest or question. As long as Scourge was in the lead, they cared for little else. The Autobot and Decepticon triple-changers (with the notable absence of Blitzwing) were swooping back and forth in aerial mode, forcing the Yuniri forces into a tighter group, making them easier targets for the Sweeps and Aerialbots.

Rodimus was unfamiliar with the Yuniri, and he took this moment to study them closely. They were rather thin and angular looking, but it was not clear if they were silicon- or metallic-based from looks alone. Their exostructures were burnished ebony, not quite polished enough to seem metallic, but too durable-looking to be silicon. They brandished weapons of alien manufacture, which discharged devastating blasts of energy. They seemed quite aggressive but had little in they way of strategy. As long as the flighted Cybertronians – in conjunction with the major planetary defenses – could keep them at bay, they should have little problem.

Sure enough, the Aerialbots and Sweeps were able to easily pick off the furiously attacking Yuniri. The Autobots tried to only incapacitate them, but the Decepticons were much less merciful. In their eyes, a dead foe made one less that could return to trouble them. Normally the savage Yuniri would fight until their last man, but this was not their fight, nor their planet. As if some invisible signal had been given, they turned tail and hastened away.

Megatron mocked. Is that all Unicron has to offer? Surely the *great* Chaos-Bringer is not so easily defeated!

Optimus looked grave. This was just a test, Megatron. The attack served to test our defenses, gauge our methods of counterattack. He now knows what to expect from us. The problem is that we have no idea what we're up against. We haven't even been able to get a clear picture of Unicron's new body! We're going to be hard-pressed to improvise against unknown odds.

The brief battle was enough to release some of the pent-up tension, but it quickly began to build once more, and both armies became tenser than ever. Unicron's progress was tracked only by their diminishing communications range. They were being systematically cut off from the rest of the galaxy. The dark god was perhaps about ten hours away. Each Autobot and Decepticon was able to agree on one thing: this could quite conceivably be the last day of their lives.


end of Chapter One