The Transformers universe began disappearing piece by piece beneath the expansion of the Thokt Dynasty.
Entire systems fell silent.
Mining worlds vanished.
Moons were hollowed out from within while stars dimmed beneath the operations of colossal Necron harvest fleets spreading across the galaxy like an unstoppable plague.
Forge ships descended upon lifeless worlds first.
Then populated ones.
Resistance changed nothing.
Cybertronian colonies were erased within hours, while human military fleets evaporated against weapons millions of years beyond their comprehension.
Scarab swarms consumed cities, oceans, and continents alike until entire planets were stripped to their cores.
All resources flowed toward one purpose.
Evolution.
Mike stood at the center of it all while his empire expanded endlessly through cold efficiency and overwhelming force.
And with expansion came acquisition.
One of the most valuable arrived unexpectedly.
Lockdown.
The infamous bounty hunter proved dangerous even by Cybertronian standards.
Armed with stolen technologies gathered across countless species, he possessed weapons and containment systems unlike anything native to this universe.
Which made him useful.
Very useful.
The battle lasted less than seven minutes.
Lockdown’s ship attempted to escape after detecting the scale of the Necron fleet surrounding it, but Blackstone’s suppression fields collapsed the jump instantly.
His vessel was boarded moments later by enhanced Necron constructs infused with AllSpark-evolved nanites.
Lockdown fought viciously.
He destroyed dozens before Mike personally intervened.
The bounty hunter unleashed gravity mines, antimatter rounds, and phase weaponry stolen from extinct civilizations.
Yet none of it mattered.
Mike tore through Lockdown’s systems directly using nanite infiltration before pinning the Cybertronian against his own ship’s hull.
“You are not from this universe,” Lockdown growled.
“Indeed,” Mike answered coldly.
Then the nanites consumed the bounty hunter completely.
His memories became data.
His technology became a resource.
And among those resources
Mike discovered the Seed.
The Seed fascinated him immediately.
A device capable of converting entire planetary masses into transformium.
Matter conversion on a global scale.
Elegant.
Efficient.
And terrifying.
Mike devoted enormous resources to studying it.
Within hidden forge laboratories beneath the moon, the Seed floated inside layered containment systems while millions of simulations unfolded simultaneously across cryptek networks.
One cryptek approached carefully.
“My phaeron… we believe replication is possible.”
Mike looked toward the glowing device.
“How much improvement?”
The cryptek hesitated briefly.
“Significant.”
Months later, the first successful test occurred.
A barren world on the edge of the system was selected.
Mike observed from orbit while the modified Seed activated.
Unlike the original, this version incorporated Necron dimensional mathematics, Blackstone energy stabilization, and AllSpark-derived adaptive coding. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
The result exceeded even Mike’s expectations.
The planet died in under twenty minutes.
Entire oceans transformed first.
Then the continents.
Then the mantle itself.
By the time the process ended, the world had become a metallic sphere composed entirely of enhanced transformium-necrodermis hybrid material.
Every atom repurposed.
Every resource harvested.
The crypteks stared silently at the readings.
One finally spoke.
“My phaeron… your version can consume an entire planet.”
Mike observed the transformed world quietly.
“Yes.”
The Seed would become the foundation of an entirely new industrial age for the dynasty.
Endless materials.
Endless armies.
Endless evolution.
But Mike had already shifted toward his next objective.
Himself.
The memories harvested from The Fallen changed everything.
For the first time, Mike fully understood how the Primes manipulated transformium at near-instinctive levels.
Combined with the AllSpark’s creative force and Necron mastery over matter, an entirely new possibility emerged.
Ascension.
Not merely upgrading his body.
Reforging it completely.
The process began immediately.
Deep within the central forge-chamber beneath the moon, colossal furnaces burned with emerald energy siphoned directly from the AllSpark itself.
The bodies of Megatron, Jetfire, and The Fallen were brought before the forge.
Ancient conquerors.
Scientists.
Primes.
All reduced now to raw material.
Mike stood before the furnaces silently.
Then the melting began.
Transformium liquefied beneath impossible temperatures while necrodermis flowed like living black mercury through massive channels surrounding the chamber.
AllSpark energy surged continuously into the mixture.
The forge shook.
Reality bent around it.
For an entire month, the process continued without pause.
Crypteks labored endlessly while nanite swarms numbering in the trillions reshaped every layer of the new body according to Mike’s design.
A body not limited by Necron tradition.
Nor Cybertronian biology.
Something greater.
Something entirely new.
And finally
It awakened.
The forge chamber opened slowly.
Silence spread through the vault as an immense figure emerged from the burning emerald light.
Mike’s new body stood nearly five meters tall.
Towering over even elite Necron constructs.
The old skeletal form of the Necrons had vanished completely.
In its place stood a broad-shouldered war-machine inspired by Megatron’s brutal frame.
The chest plate resembled an armored fortress of matte black necrodermis etched with shifting royal sigils glowing faintly beneath the surface.
Ancient.
Absolute.
His head retained the iconic Necron death-mask
But now enclosed within a helmet shaped like Megatron’s infamous war crown.
Twin eyes burned with cold emerald hatred bright enough to illuminate the chamber itself.
Then came the surface.
The necrodermis was no longer smooth.
Jagged fissures spread across the armor like scars carved into a dying god.
Emerald Gauss energy leaked continuously from within those cracks, pulsing like restrained stellar fire beneath the surface.
It resembled the burning corruption once carried by the Fallen.
As though Mike’s very existence strained against containment.
Ancient.
Damaged.
Terrifying.
The crypteks instinctively lowered themselves as he stepped forward.
Massive wing structures unfolded slowly from his back.
Inspired by Jetfire’s flight systems, the wings consisted of countless shifting necrodermis shards suspended together through anti-gravitic fields.
Gravity distorted faintly around them while integrated thrusters along his back and legs emitted a low humming pulse.
Mike rose from the ground effortlessly.
Hovering.
Silent.
Predatory.
His right arm shifted suddenly.
Armor plates folded apart before reforming into an enormous integrated Fusion Gauss Cannon large enough to annihilate armored vehicles in a single shot.
The weapon hummed with terrifying energy.
Then his left hand closed around a staff nearly six meters long.
The Staff of the Fallen.
Part royal Necron scepter.
Part Prime weapon.
A jagged obsidian blade extended from its base while emerald lightning crawled endlessly across its surface.
The final body radiated an overwhelming presence.
Matte gunmetal-black armor.
Ancient gold trim.
Blazing green energy burning through every joint, fissure, and optic.
Not Necron.
Not Transformer.
Something beyond both.
Mike slowly examined his new form.
Then he activated the final sequence.
His body dissolved instantly.
The colossal frame collapsed into trillions upon trillions of microscopic nanites before reforming seconds later into solid shape once more.
Perfect adaptability.
Perfect evolution.
The crypteks watched in complete silence.
One finally whispered.
“My phaeron…”
Mike turned slowly toward them.
The chamber itself trembled slightly beneath his presence.
Then he spoke.
“Prepare the fleets.”
His new voice carried like metallic thunder.
“This galaxy will be remade.”