This is my first fan-fic, so I would appreciate any reviews. Any. If I go
wrong then please tell me. Okay, so the setting;
This story takes place after the events of Beast Machines and ignores armada completely. Hell, they ignore the other series anyway, so why not? Hopefully this will be liked. Thank you.
Oh yeah. I don't own Transformers or Beast Machines. However, if I did I would be one very rich man.
"The Transformers: Cybertron Perpetual"
Introduction:
He hadn't expected this.
Is this what awaited him after the reformatting of Cybertron? Is this what was meant by "Til All Are One"? One what? He was clearly not one with anything. He was a separate entity in this place, his existence here bothered him. Was he truly dead? Did the Matrix refuse him?
Why? What reason did the Matrix have for holding him away from the beyond? Was the information he held not valuable for the growth of the Transformers? Why, damn it?!? If it weren't for him, there would not have been a formatting. Everything that this Cybertron was, that the citizens now took for granted, was down to him. His courage to forge a new world, his intelligence to make it work. He should be a God!
Yet, for some, he was merely a martyr. A relic of some age old war that, in a year or two, would be forgotten. Lost under the code of the New Cybertron. Again, this bothered him. His name would be worth nothing.
Nothing.
Could he allow this? Certainly not, but without a body what could he do? In theory, if he were not part of the Matrix, could he not just break free from this electronic limbo he found himself in? Without the constraints of being One, in theory, he could find a new body. A new him.
In theory. Unfortunately, it was just that. Theory. He had no physical body, not one that he could sense. He couldn't see or touch or taste or emote yet he could do all of these things. His mind raced at a million miles a minute, thoughts coming and going faster than he could calculate. Again, this bothered him. He had no control over the state he found himself in, yet he seemed to have freedom in this static prison the Matrix had created for him. Nothing made sense. It was all incoherent. He had no objectives, nothing to aim for.
Was this his Hell?
He must escape. Break free of the shackles, become whole again. Become one with himself. It was time to educate the Cybertronians. They had fallen prey to the comforts of their new world. They needed to learn. They needed to experience the crushing defeat that only he could deliver. And this time, who would oppose him?
Who would dare oppose the might of Megatron?
But alas, he was helpless. Although his mind raced, he had no clear thought. No action plan, no troops, no chance. If he were to do this, he would need assistance that was certain. But who? It seemed to Megatron, that he was the only one in this place. Had his Predacon and Vehicon troops escaped this torture? Was this his punishment and his alone?
No. There was something here with him. Watching him it seemed. Silent or was it communicating with him? Was he unable to hear? Has it always been there? Questions. More and more.
"I can sense you", he said. Or did he? Damn this place! "Show yourself!"
Silence again. Could the other not hear him? Is it possible that although he can be sensed, he could not be seen? Not be communicated with?
"Have it your way," he hissed.
I HAVE SUMMONED YOU HERE FOR A PURPOSE.
The voice startled him, sending a million more thoughts through his conscious. He had been summoned? From where? Was he once part of the Matrix? Had he been freed?
"Who are you?"
I AM UNICRON.
The name sent a shockwave through his mind. It wasn't possible. It simply wasn't. Had the Autobot Elders lied about his defeat at the hands of Optimus Prime? Had they done so to gain victory over the dwindling Decepticon forces? Had they done so to force a treaty between factions? Were the tales in the Covenant of Primus just that? Tales? Stories for a new generation to oppress the old? His mind was racing again. Focus.
"You lie. Unicron is dead."
YOU HAVE BEEN MISINFORMED. YOU SPEAK OF A PHYSICAL PRESENCE THAT I WAS AND WILL BE AGAIN.
Could this be? Could it be that the Chaos Bringer, the Dark Lord himself had chosen him over countless other Predacons, Vehicons and Decepticons throughout history to lead his armies? But wait, he was getting ahead of himself.
"What do you want from me?"
CYBERTRON HAS CHANGED. I CAN FEEL IT.
"What do you want from me?" He repeated.
I NEED A BODY.
"Don't we all?"
YOUR HUMOUR IS NOT WELCOME. PERHAPS I HAVE CHOSEN UNWISELY?
"No. I can lead your armies."
I HAVE NO ARMY. YOU RECRUIT WHO YOU WISH.
"How can I do this from in here? You must give me a body."
I CANNOT.
"You have wasted my time then."
I CAN RESTORE YOUR SPARK. THAT IS ALL.
The thoughts in his mind had eased, his concentration now much more severe. He had a goal again. A purpose. With a new body and a new army, he could finally achieve his conquest of Cybertron. He could shape it in his own image. He could be a God! No, he would be a GOD!
"Do it," he said and waited for his reformation.
This story takes place after the events of Beast Machines and ignores armada completely. Hell, they ignore the other series anyway, so why not? Hopefully this will be liked. Thank you.
Oh yeah. I don't own Transformers or Beast Machines. However, if I did I would be one very rich man.
"The Transformers: Cybertron Perpetual"
Introduction:
He hadn't expected this.
Is this what awaited him after the reformatting of Cybertron? Is this what was meant by "Til All Are One"? One what? He was clearly not one with anything. He was a separate entity in this place, his existence here bothered him. Was he truly dead? Did the Matrix refuse him?
Why? What reason did the Matrix have for holding him away from the beyond? Was the information he held not valuable for the growth of the Transformers? Why, damn it?!? If it weren't for him, there would not have been a formatting. Everything that this Cybertron was, that the citizens now took for granted, was down to him. His courage to forge a new world, his intelligence to make it work. He should be a God!
Yet, for some, he was merely a martyr. A relic of some age old war that, in a year or two, would be forgotten. Lost under the code of the New Cybertron. Again, this bothered him. His name would be worth nothing.
Nothing.
Could he allow this? Certainly not, but without a body what could he do? In theory, if he were not part of the Matrix, could he not just break free from this electronic limbo he found himself in? Without the constraints of being One, in theory, he could find a new body. A new him.
In theory. Unfortunately, it was just that. Theory. He had no physical body, not one that he could sense. He couldn't see or touch or taste or emote yet he could do all of these things. His mind raced at a million miles a minute, thoughts coming and going faster than he could calculate. Again, this bothered him. He had no control over the state he found himself in, yet he seemed to have freedom in this static prison the Matrix had created for him. Nothing made sense. It was all incoherent. He had no objectives, nothing to aim for.
Was this his Hell?
He must escape. Break free of the shackles, become whole again. Become one with himself. It was time to educate the Cybertronians. They had fallen prey to the comforts of their new world. They needed to learn. They needed to experience the crushing defeat that only he could deliver. And this time, who would oppose him?
Who would dare oppose the might of Megatron?
But alas, he was helpless. Although his mind raced, he had no clear thought. No action plan, no troops, no chance. If he were to do this, he would need assistance that was certain. But who? It seemed to Megatron, that he was the only one in this place. Had his Predacon and Vehicon troops escaped this torture? Was this his punishment and his alone?
No. There was something here with him. Watching him it seemed. Silent or was it communicating with him? Was he unable to hear? Has it always been there? Questions. More and more.
"I can sense you", he said. Or did he? Damn this place! "Show yourself!"
Silence again. Could the other not hear him? Is it possible that although he can be sensed, he could not be seen? Not be communicated with?
"Have it your way," he hissed.
I HAVE SUMMONED YOU HERE FOR A PURPOSE.
The voice startled him, sending a million more thoughts through his conscious. He had been summoned? From where? Was he once part of the Matrix? Had he been freed?
"Who are you?"
I AM UNICRON.
The name sent a shockwave through his mind. It wasn't possible. It simply wasn't. Had the Autobot Elders lied about his defeat at the hands of Optimus Prime? Had they done so to gain victory over the dwindling Decepticon forces? Had they done so to force a treaty between factions? Were the tales in the Covenant of Primus just that? Tales? Stories for a new generation to oppress the old? His mind was racing again. Focus.
"You lie. Unicron is dead."
YOU HAVE BEEN MISINFORMED. YOU SPEAK OF A PHYSICAL PRESENCE THAT I WAS AND WILL BE AGAIN.
Could this be? Could it be that the Chaos Bringer, the Dark Lord himself had chosen him over countless other Predacons, Vehicons and Decepticons throughout history to lead his armies? But wait, he was getting ahead of himself.
"What do you want from me?"
CYBERTRON HAS CHANGED. I CAN FEEL IT.
"What do you want from me?" He repeated.
I NEED A BODY.
"Don't we all?"
YOUR HUMOUR IS NOT WELCOME. PERHAPS I HAVE CHOSEN UNWISELY?
"No. I can lead your armies."
I HAVE NO ARMY. YOU RECRUIT WHO YOU WISH.
"How can I do this from in here? You must give me a body."
I CANNOT.
"You have wasted my time then."
I CAN RESTORE YOUR SPARK. THAT IS ALL.
The thoughts in his mind had eased, his concentration now much more severe. He had a goal again. A purpose. With a new body and a new army, he could finally achieve his conquest of Cybertron. He could shape it in his own image. He could be a God! No, he would be a GOD!
"Do it," he said and waited for his reformation.