There are unnumbered legends in the lands of Arcana. But one of the greatest is that of the Golden Age. A time when all the races of Arcana lived in peace and harmony with each other. A time when a new race of beings, metal golems known as the Magi-Transformicans, that could transform into great beasts came into being.
Tragically though, this time came crashing down. When one of these golems, a being who would be remembered as Metatron, rose up against the free peoples of Arcana under the banner of the Fellicons. Plunging the entire world into millennia of war.
But not all of the golems fell under Metatron's thrall. As another faction, remembered as the Autofolk, led by their wise and bold leader Optimous Primaris. Rose against Metatrons tyranny. The war lasted five thousand long years. Uncounted lives were lost. By the end, Arcana was a blasted wasteland, unrecognizable to all.
Its great cities were reduced to ruin, even the mighty Forge Cities that the Magi-Transformicans called home were not spared this cataclysmic war.
In shame for not truly saving Arcana, Optimous Primaris ordered that all the slain Fellicons be locked away into tombs. And that he, and the rest of the Autofolk, go into a deep sleep in similar tombs. Until such a time would come when they could redeem their failure to preserve Arcana.
Over the next four thousand years. The Golden Age faded into legend, legend became myth... and the only memories of the Golden Age were whatever stories survived the War for Arcana... but then one day. The stars came into alignment... and a Second Great War would begin anew.
"Sp'ike! What've you found there m'boy?" A Dwarven father said to his son as he and a few other Dwarves were looking through a vein.
"I... I don't know. I've never seen anything like it dad." Sp'ike said as they saw what looked like a giant bumblebee made of steel and stone.
"I've seen beasts like this on my travels in my youth." Sp'ikes father said. "Small things, 'bumblebee's I believe the Elves called them."
"Dad... could this be a... a Magi-Transformican?" Sp'ike said in shock.
"Couldn't tell ya even if I knew." Sp'ikes father said. "It... it looks like one of the old manuscripts, but it ain't movin."
Sp'ike saw a small gem nearby the giant bumblebee. "Maybe... maybe it's missing this?" Sp'ike asked.
Sp'ikes father noticed this gem was roughly the same size and shape as an intention inside of the giant bumblebee's head. "It could. But I don't think this is the best place to test this. Let's get this thing home first, and see for certain if this is one of the fabled Autofolk." The two Dwarves smuggled the bumblebee back to their home.
"Well... the moment of truth." Sp'ike inserted the gem into the indentation. It slid inside of the bee's chest... but nothing happened. "It... it took all day to get this thing here."
"Don't be so hard on yourself lad." Sp'ike's father reassured. "You could've known if it would work or not-" Then both father and son were surprised as the giant bumblebee started to move. Stirring, despite being covered in several centuries of rust and atrophy. "Well... looks like we were wrong."
The golem stood up, and then unexpectedly it transformed from a bee, into a form not unlike a Man. "I... I don't believe it!" Sp'ike said in disbelief.
"I... a Magi-Transformican?! I thought they were a myth!" Sp'ike's father said in disbelief. "Are you friend? Or foe?" He demanded as he bore his ax at the golem.
The golem made bee-like noises and seemed surprised that it couldn't speak properly. "Well... it seems some part of you was damaged," Sp'ike said.
"I think that speaks for itself." Sp'ikes father said. "Can you tell us you're name, oh great Autofolk?"
The Autofolk golem looked around, and quickly found something to write with. "Hmm... I have no idea what that says." Sp'ikes father said as he observed the ancient writing. "I've encountered a lot of old writing in my time, but this is beyond even the oldest of the Ancient Texts."
The Autofolk kept making buzzing noises, not unlike his alternative form. "Look, until we can sort things out. We should call you Bumblebee until we can properly communicate. That sound fair?" Sp'ike said.
"That's reasonable, what say you?" Sp'ike's father asked of the Autofolk. The golem gave thumbs up. "We'll take that as a yes."
Meanwhile, far and away from the Dwarven lands to the giant eastern continent of Arcana. A dark ritual, years in the making was underway. At the top of a great ziggurat, a Dark Elf sorcerer stood before scaffolding that held up one of the Magi-Transformicans. "Yes... the stars in alignment. All that's missing is the last piece to bring you back from death." The Dark Elf said.
"My lord Necrosis!" Cried out an Orcish servent. "We have found it!" She said, baring a giant head.
"Yes... finally!" Lord Necrosis levitated the head to the propped-up Magi-Transformican body. Completing the great golem. "RISE! IN THE NAME OF NECROSIS! RISE!" He then cast lightning upon the inert being, burning away the scaffolding and causing its eyes to glow. "Arise! ARISE!"
After a while, the magic of Lord Necrosis caused environmental chaos around the Ziggurat. Eventually, it stopped as the Magi-Transformican literally roared to life. "I... I live again?" The Magi-Transformican said as he looked around him.
"Yes... Lord Metatron Draconis. Voice of Tiamat. Leader of the Fellicons." Necrosis said as he bowed to the ancient golem.
"Where are my warriors?" Metatron demanded.
"We have only found you." Necrosis said. "But not to worry, my minions are scouring the continent for their tombs."
Metatron then transformed into his alternate form, that of a massive dragon. "Then there is not much time. The constellation of Tiamat is in the sky, so long as it is in the sky. Both Autofolk and Fellicons alike will stir from rest! It won't be too long before war begins anew... and I won't lose again."
In the depths of a distant tomb, hidden away in the forests of the western continent. Emerged a band of Autofolk. "My Acolytes... this awakening can only mean one thing. The constellation of Tiamat is ascending." Said the largest of them with only one eye.
"Yes, Lord Magnus." Said one her Acolytes. A young Autofolk woman. "We should find the ruins of Iaconia. And find Optimus Primaris."
"Patience Windblade," Magnus said. "We cannot rely on his strength alone, mighty though a Primaris is. You, the greatest of my disciples, must find the rest of the Autofolk, spread word of the war to come to the great leaders of the west."
"Understood." Windblade transformed into her alternate form, a giant hawk, and flew off. The rest of Magnus's Acolytes did the same.
"How kind of Optimus to seal away my most capable Fellicons so close to Kaonopollis!" Metatron gloated as he broke into the tomb. And used his powerful magic to restore a number of his Fellicons to life. "Arise! Arise my Deathwing's!" And out of they're giant sarcophagus, burst forth giants.
"We answer the call!" The largest of these Deathwing's said with a raised fist.
"Good, Warmaster Grimlock. Take you're warriors, Starscream, Sky Warp, Thundercracker, Acid Storm, Dirge, Thrust, Sandstorm, Sunstorm, and find the rest of the entombed Fellicons." Metatron commanded.
Grimlock transformed into a dragon, not unlike Metatrons alternate form, and burst through the ceiling. "Why that oaf was made our leader I'll never know." Muttered Starscream as the rest of the Deathwing's followed after Grimlock.
Over the next few months, Arcana was in a flurry as the Magi-Transformicans awakened for the first time in millennia. Ancient tombs, thought to contain the remains of long-dead kings, had the ancient transforming golems emerge. Terrifying the mortal inhabitants of both continents, as oftentimes they emerged in the middle of cities, villages, or family farms. Startling the inhabitants.
On the western continent, the various rulers of Men, Elves, and Dwarves convened on the meaning of all of this. Hopeful that Optimus Primaris was close behind to lead the Autofolk
While on the eastern continent the Orcs, Dark Elves, and Goblins were overwhelmed by Metatron Draconis and his Fellicons. Bringing them under his totalitarian dominion.
"Well... it looks like High King Vallin is looking for warriors and information on any Magi-Transformicans." Sp'ike's father said as he and his son were traveling through the woods. "Now I'm not going to suggest turning Bumblebee in... but he has been here for months."
"Come on dad," Sp'ike said. "Bee's only just started to trust us." He said as Bumblebee was playing around with a baby deer. "And besides, he's in no shape to fight... you remember what happened."
"I suppose you're right son." Sp'ike's father said.
Meanwhile, in the sky, Windblade was flying overhead in her hawk form and saw Bumblebee. "I... by Primaris!" She then landed nearby, startling the Dwarves and Bumblebee. "I never thought I'd see you again!" Windblade then hugged the yellow golem.
The father and son looked confused. "Uh... howdy miss?..." Sp'ike said.
Windblade then realized that there were Dwarves nearby. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't notice-. My name is Windblade, I'm an acolyte of Magnus, second of Optimus Primaris. Since Tiamat started ascending we've been looking for the lost Forge City of Iaconius."
"Stands to reason." Sp'ike's father said. "Magi-Transformicans exist, ergo Iaconius must also exist... somewhere." He then took out a map and some papers. "Fortune hunters having to look for that place for centuries."
"Optimus covered his tracks... too well, we've been looking for Iaconius for months and we haven't turned up anything." Windblade lamented.
"We actually came out here to see if Bumblebee knew anything," Sp'ike said.
Windblade then noticed the young Dwarf. "Oh my goodness, I forgot how cute young Dwarves could be!" She cooed as she picked up Sp'ike. "I'll bet you're beard still hasn't grown in."
Sp'ike's then struck Windblade in the ankle with his ax. "Let me make this clear... my son is a late bloomer in terms of hair growth. And I'd prefer that you not talk to him like he were an infant." He said sternly.
Windblade winced at the blow to her foot. "Ow... you know there are better ways to get people's attention than to hit them like that." She said as she put Sp'ike back on the ground. "Wait, did you call him Bumblebee?"
"Aye, he wouldn't stop buzzing like one since we met... and his alternate mode is a giant bumblebee anyway," Sp'ike said.
Windblade raised an eyebrow. "Okay... that's actually better than his real name. Bumblebee it is." She then hugged the confused yellow golem. "Oh, I've missed you so much!"
Bumblebee then replied in confused buzzing. "What?... you don't remember anything?" Windblade asked. Bumblebee buzzed a simple 'no'. "You don't remember the Great War? Optimus Primaris?... you don't even remember me?" She asked despondently. Bumblebee made an apologetic buzz. "It... it doesn't really matter."
The Dwarven father and son looked at each other in concern. "So... you're looking for Iaconia?"
"Yes... I and the other acolytes thought we knew where it was. But apparently, Optimus concealed the city with magic more powerful than even something Magnus could contend with." Windblade said.
Sp'ike then thought for a moment. "Windblade, can you remember where the city was during the Golden Age?"
"Not really, so much has changed. Even after we won the war." Windblade lamented. "I mean Optimus gave the vaguest instructions to find Iaconia. 'It will find you before you find it.' I mean what does that mean?" Bumblebee then buzzed. "Hmm... I suppose that could be it, but could the Primaris-" Then the surrounding area changed as without any warning. Buildings of tarnished gold appeared out of nowhere, catching everyone off guard. "-WHOA!... I was not expecting this!"
"Sweat Freya, where'd this all come from?!" Sp'ike's father said in surprise. As the party was surrounded by the ruins of Iaconius.
"I... we need to find Optimus!" Windblade said anxiously. "His tomb should be in the center of the city!" Windblade then changed into her hawk form and flew towards a tarnished gold tower in the distance.
"Well... should we follow her?" Sp'ike asked.
Bumblebee wasted no time in transforming into a bee and carrying off the two Dwarves after Windblade. "Oy! That wasn't a rhetorical question!" Sp'ike's father said in annoyance.
To be continued...