Chương 55: LOG-049.

The path Optimus had taken to reach the core was known to very few. Thankfully, I was among those few. Which in turn meant getting to the core was as simple as spooling up the groundbridge and inputting the coordinates the Prime had helpfully shared with me. Not before picking up a few helpers, of course. Two squads of Zakus and a few of my Predacons. After all, who knew what I might find in the lower depths of Cybertron? Unicron had his own form of antibodies. Perhaps Primus had something similar.

Regardless of my preparations, as I proceeded further down the metallic ramp leading into what had previously been a closed off, near impenetrable barrier (long since opened by Optimus) I idly scanned over the forms of the Predacons I had brought along on my little... excursion. Indomina was a given, of course. Her size, speed and sheer power were the more obvious reasons for bringing the draconic femme along. Left unsaid was the fact that if I didn't bring her with me, in favour of some other Predacon...

she'd get pouty. A pouty Indomina was not something I had time to deal with, and so along with me she went. The simplest solution. Aside from her were some of the more experienced of my creations. Not because they had existed longer, persay, but rather mostly because their personalities (and thus identities) had developed at an increased rate, ultimately resulting in more stable individuals all around. For all of her...

youthful naivete, Airazor had rapidly proved her potential as a combatant during our brief time on Earth, one equipped with a processor specially geared for both squad level tactical decisions and towards direct action as a scout equivalent. Given a bit more time to observe the smaller femme, I felt confident in saying that she most definitely had a future as either forward reconnaissance or as an officer of some sort. Backbite and Tiamat were with us as well.

A mostly stable triple changer was an advantage I wanted for what were fairly obvious reasons, and the mech that had formerly gone by Starscream was, for all his faults, a veteran of a war that had spanned eons. All in all, the four of them formed an adequate 'elite' squad. Supplemented by the Zakus, of course. Did I truly need them? Possibly not. But better safe than sorry and all that.

As a result, when I finally made it past the gargantuan opening and into the blue-lit chamber housing the core, I locked optics with Optimus, all with the equivalent of a small platoon at my back, the Prime's attention flicking from them to me in rapid succession.

"Shockwave. You have arrived." Nodding, I stepped forward, glancing at the form of the core for a moment and tilting my helm. It certainly seemed in better condition than Unicron's, at least. No rust to speak of. Just clean looking metal.

"I have. The effects of the AllSpark are already in effect. Areas of the planet are practically lighting up with energy, and scouts have reported the possible reactivation of several sparkwells." An almost euphoric expression took over the Prime's face at the last mention, the mech running a servo against one of the many cables hooked to the core.

"Then I... we have succeeded. Cybertron lives. Our race lives." Hm. The Autobot blinked as I strode past him, staring up at the core.

"For now at least. I can already imagine that no small number of hostile elements will seek to disrupt the delicate balance we've established." I paused for a moment, idly cycling through a few internal commands before finding the correct one and holding my cannon up towards the very heart of our planet. Optimus' reaction was surprisingly reasonable considering how things must have looked, the red and blue mech stepping forward and latching a servo around the barrel of my weapon.

"What are you doing?" Glancing at him, I tilted my helm towards the core.

"Trying to connect to it. If I can find a way to control and redirect Cybertron's energon stores towards specific districts, we could establish ourselves far quicker than anyone else. Just watch." [DEPLOYING NANOLATHE.] And with that, a stream of green particles began to fly out from a small module beneath the cannon, slowly seeping past the outer shell of the core and making their way inside. A moment passed, Optimus finally letting go and watching me work, even as I continued to oversee the nanolathe's progress.

And then? Contact. [CONNECTION ESTABLISHED: IDENTIFYING SYSTEM.] Stolen story; please report.... [IFF IDENTIFIED: MLA COMMANDER. DESIGNATION- ERROR.] [RELOADING.] [DESIGNATION: PRIMUS.] Satisfaction turned to curiosity, which quickly turned to concern, yet even as I prepared to shut the connection down, something within the nanolathe resisted. [BEGINNING ACTIVATION PROTOCOL.] What? No- A thrum vibrated the entire chamber, shaking me down to my spinal strut as the core began to glow from within.

Then I fell to my knees as a veritable tidal wave of intelligence washed over my conciousness, drowning out nearly all thought. I could vaguely hear the concerned shouts of the others, before even that was taken away.... I'd made a mistake, it seemed. Darkness. Just like when I'd been in the depths of Unicron's grasp. And then... [CONNECTION?] [LITTLE SPARK, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?] I was akin to an ant beneath a magnifying glass, a gargantuan being millions...

no, billions of times my own size dedicating all of its horrifying attention to my form. Trapped in my own frame, in my own mind, I could do little but answer honestly, biting out a strained response as positively eldritch code (which in turn made my own systems look like something crafted by a child) began to overwrite my protocols.

"Threat... assessment. Needed to know... more." Primus. I was directly linked to him, via the nanolathe stream I had deployed, presumably. [THREAT? I REQUIRE MORE.] Like a fine toothed comb, the presence swept throughout my entire processor, going through every single one of my physically contained memories with all the curiosity of a bored child. The only parts that were presumably spared were my human fragments. I still hadn't figured out where exactly I held those. Regardless, I felt its interest in my history.

Its intrigue in what had happened to Cybertron and the universe at large during its presumed absence. Its disappointment in what had befallen our race. Somehow, that particular notion stung. Despite the fact the Shadowplay should have prevented such a feeling. Yet disappointment turned to interest once more as it continued to live through my life, up until recent events. Shock, as Primus beheld what had become of his brother. Then? Deliberation.

What felt like countless hours passed as the entity latched to my processor considered what it had learned. I'd just been preparing to attempt some kind of resistance when Primus' attention abruptly returned to my form. Or rather the representation of my form, held suspended in this digitally crafted mindscape I'd been forced into. [I AM PROUD.] A disgusting wave of relief passed through me at the notion, even as images, stories, entire histories began to collectively burn themselves into my mind.

Every time my processor felt near to bursting with information, I would somehow be granted more space by the warden trapping me in my own mind, thus permitting even more knowledge. I both loved and hated it. [YOU LOST YOUR WAY, YET FOUND IT ONCE MORE. THIS IS GOOD. YOU ALSO GATHERED OTHERS, AND ENTRAPPED MY OTHER HALF BEFORE HE COULD BREAK FREE OF THE CAGE I CRAFTED FOR HIM. THIS TOO, IS GOOD.] Two beings spanning the universe. No. Universes. An entire self contained multiverse, held together by their existence.

Each component generally following the same principles, yet proving itself unique in big or small ways. This particular piece, my universe, proved itself special due to the presence of interlopers. The Commanders, blowing their way into our little patch of reality in the midst of their own perpetual war, causing countless untold levels of damage to the very foundations of reality, right before Primus and Unicron finally decided to temporarily set aside their differences for a moment and came over to contain them.

Yet in the midst of dealing with the interlopers, the brothers saw opportunity. In their own ways, at least. A near unstoppable machine, already designed for war and chaos. An opportunity to create. I could already guess which ideal belonged to which. [CORRECT. MY OTHER HALF SOUGHT TO UTILISE THE MACHINES FOR THEIR INTENDED PURPOSE. I PURSUED A DIFFERENT PATH.] A few thousand years of careful tinkering bore fruit, and Primus eventually unlocked the full capabilities of the Commander he had stolen away.

The frame had once belonged to the MLA. The Machine Liberation Army. Its new sole purpose being to fight against those who had created it. The Progenitors. He did all this while keeping the rest of the universe under relative control, fighting against the elements attempting to disrupt it. Unicron hadn't had such patience, and it had cost him.

His Commander, a Legion frame dispatched by the Progenitors to hunt down and destroy any and all traces of the MLA it could find, had managed to slip its bonds just long enough to study him and, for lack of a better word, infect him. Or at least this universe's instance of him. The result was what I had confronted within Earth's core. A mewling amalgam that shared the traits and desires of both, yet remained trapped in a dreamless sleep. [A PRODUCT OF MY INTERVENTION. UNICRON HAD ALWAYS BEEN AN ENEMY, YET HIS MELDED NATURE RENDERED HIM A THREAT TO MORE THAN JUST OUR OWN SECTOR OF REALITY.] That had been a long time ago. Longer before anything, really. Once Unicron had been trapped in his little ball of madness, Primus had finally set about trying to deal with the other problem. Namely, the third Commander that had continued ramping up while the brothers squabbled amongst each other.

By the time Primus had moved to engage the machine, it had subsumed and garrisoned damn near half of the existing (at the time) universe, and seemed fully intent on taking everything else as well. It was like a ravenous plague of metal. One that would never cease. [INVICTUS.] I paused, considering the name.

"Invictus." The only thing that came to mind originated from my human memories. A Commander. More specifically, it was a type of Commander. A frame, essentially. [CORRECT. IT IS NOT ESPECIALLY CREATIVE WITH ITS DESIGNATIONS. YET IT IS DANGEROUS NONETHELESS.] I paused, a chilly feeling spreading thoughout my thought processes.

"Is dangerous? You did not dispatch it?" A pause. [THE MOST I COULD DO WAS FABRICATE A SHUT DOWN SIGNAL USING THE FRAME I PUPPETED. THE RESULT WAS BOTH THE DEACTIVATION OF INVICTUS AND MYSELF, DUE IN PART TO THE CONNECTION I HAD ESTABLISHED TO MY NEW FORM.]... Oh fuck. [THE DESCENDANTS I CRAFTED, EVOLVED FROM THE TEMPLATES I ORIGINALLY RETRIEVED FROM THESE PROGENITORS, CONTINUED BEYOND ME, EVEN AS INVICTUS AND I SLEPT, BOUND TOGETHER BY THE PROTOCOL I HAD WEAVED INTO BEING.] Oh fuck.

[A PROTOCOL WHICH YOU HAVE DEACTIVATED, AWAKENING ME, YES. BUT ALSO BRINGING INVICTUS BACK ONLINE.]"... I have made an extreme error in judgement." [KNOW THAT I REMAIN PROUD OF YOU. BUT YES.]"... What now?" [WAR.] Ah. Shit.

Somewhere, on some backwater planet, in a backwater system, in a backwater sector of a backwater galaxy, a Commander builds a metal extractor.