Disclaimers: I own not the Transformers

But I do own Dovanski. And Ben.

And Eris is my friend's property.

(Told from Dovanski's POV most often, but does go into 3rd person often)

Note: Dovanski speaks and thinks in broken English.

Transformers: Hand of Fate.

PROLOGUE

12:00 Noon; March 12, 1945; Stalingrad, USSR

Dovanski's POV (translated into English)

I lead my regiment into the German inferno. The Nazi bastards shoot into hospitals, into factories, into homes.

They would pay for this. And I would make sure of it.

Because they were mere humans, and I was more than they were. They demons of Hell would feast on their souls by the time the day was done.

"Onward!" I yell to my comrades. "For Mother Russia!"

I look at my Thompson. Worthless. Then I see sight that I shall never again be forgetting.

"NOOOO!" A female voice screams.

"C'mon Russi baby, perks' o' war!" A German soldier said.

I rush into the room. German soldier attempting to violate the young lady. It makes my blood boil.

"What? I got dibs, you Red!" The teenage soldier spat at me.

Red? He means Communist? No. He no mean that. There is no way he is that stupid.

"Did you call me Communist, pleased to be being excused?"

The German then gets up, and swings. "Damn Communist idiot! Didn't we kill you all yet?"

I grab the peon by his puny throat. "I am no Communist. Idiot, maybe. But no Communist."

He pulls up his MP40. I grab it before his finger can touch the trigger. His eyes widen.

""Duude! You're real hairy, Red!" Does he not get it yet?

I grow, fur beginning to cover my body, and in about thirty seconds, I am thirty foot bear. What? You surprised? I'm Russian. To be the physical manifestation of Mother Russia's favorite creature is honor. At least, that is what my family tells me, before they was executed.

"AAAAHHHH!" The German slug cries. Oh look, he has power too! Look! Can wet himself really fast!

With a single swipe, he is a German pair of legs, and the rest...is in pieces on the ground.

I shrink back down and look into the eyes of the woman. "Go. Is not safe in Stalingrad no more."

She blesses me and runs toward the Russian landscape, uninterrupted.

I run out with German soldier's MP40. Stealth would be key to mission. I run into shed, wait 'til German commander passes by.

I jump down and let MP40 bullets rain on the commander's bodyguards. Then I charge, turning into bear, for dramatic effect.

Bullets pelt me, but my fur is already too thick to feel it. I guess Mother Russia wouldn't want her Avatar to be easily killed by human bullets.

I roar, and swing at the German commander. He does not duck, for I am thinking he is stunned by my...change.

His head comes right off, and his body goes flying.

His troops charge me, but I swing several times, killing two men a swing. Sad part is that I'm not even angry yet.

Foolish Germans. They bring out Panzershrek, What? They hit me with puny rocket? Not possible.

TSHHOOOOOWWWWWW! The rocket comes at me. I catch it, and hurdle it back. It kills three Germans easy.

Germans try to snipe me. The bullets get stuck in my tangled fur or outright stopped.

RRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

Ok. That one hit home in my left flank. I pick up moving tank and throw it where puny sniper is hiding.

"AGH!" BOOOM!

Apparently, tanks go Boom. Hmmm...I wonder what made me think that.

Uh-oh. My time is up. I shrink back to normal, which is a mere seven foot tall. Luckily, I had trained human muscles, as to be able to fight decently in either form. I pick up a MP40, and let loose on the guy next to me. His head explodes.

Then my comrades show up.

"Dovanski! Where were you, you idiot!"

"Saving young Russian lady's honor from Nazi scum!" I yell back. "Come on! The Nazis weaken!"

My comrades run after me, as I charge, nailing every Nazi I see for a head shot with my MP40. They would pay for their sins, I swore it.

Soon, there was but one door left in all of Stalingrad not purified of Nazi scum.

I burst it in. There is a large, burly man with large hands. He looked Gothic, as in the Visigoth raiders. Full Seven and a half foot tall. Bulky as Lucifer himself.

"Fight me!" He crows.

And then I notice all the dead Russian children, women, and soldiers around me. Beaten to death.

" I am Bulletproof Fickeldfer! Fight me, or you and your 'comrades' die!"

I throw down my MP40 and Roar in my bear voice, though I can't change right now. He responds with a long wolf howl. Either he is wolf-like, or just really good at call.

We grapple, arm in arm. He throws me down. I did not expect such strength. Ok. This could be challenge.

"Kill 'im Dovanski!" My soldiers yell, cheering my name. I feel stronger. My men are behind me, pushing me back up. He swings at me. I duck. For guy bigger than me, seems to be not well versed in how to fight big guys. I uppercut him. He falls to the floor, rolls up, trips me, dishonorably. Blood comes to my mouth. I wipe it. He swings left, so I dodge right, but left was fake, and he hammers me with his right. I crash into back wall of Doctor's office. I wipe more blood off of my face, and charge at him.

He attempts to trip me, but I see it coming and jump. I lay a cross-punch out on him, and he careens into window.

"Agh! Haven't felt pain in good long tiAARRGGHHHH!" I uppercut him as he speaks. He has no honor, so he needs to be beaten like beast he is.

"YAAAHHH! GET 'IM! DOVANSKI!" My crowd shouts. They evidently haven't seen me fistfight.

As the Visigoth gets up, I grab him, swing him round in circle, and he crashes into wall. Then I grab him and ask . "Was it worth it?"

He spits in my face. My fist finds his face, but beast that he is, he bites on it, breaking many teeth in his own mouth to make me bleed little. Fool.

I punch him up and down, several times. He is bulletproof, he says, so now I must kill him by fist. I'll always remember this, because it feels so good to kill a murderer.

He looks at me, blood leaking down his face. He knows he's dying from my strikes. "Yough..figh..real..good..But we're ALL going to Hell!" He has a bomb detonator in his hand. Crud. Should have seen this coming. I uppercut him, and in process, steal his detonator, and throw it out window.

Look on his face is priceless. Look on my fist is even better , once my fist connects right to his face, sending the bastard into his final resting place.

His blood stains my hand like royal garment. Then bomb blows, and I'm on my back...

I'm hallucinating. That has to be it! Otherwise Fickledfer couldn't be standing over me with odd remote.

ZAP!

The year 2010

ZAP! I appear in odd metal place. Hmm... This is not Stalingrad. And that Giant Metal Man is not real...

And then all is black...

(3rd Person)

Optimus Prime looked at the bloody Russian on the ground in the middle of his base, and called the humans over.

Rad actually knew who the Russian was.

"No way!" The teen yelled. " That's Petrov Dovanski!"

"Who?" Optimus asked.

"He died in a huge bomb blast in WWII. Or so I thought..." Rad said, mystified.