The Forgotten

Discussion in 'Transformers Fan Fiction' started by MetroBoy, Jul 6, 2008.

  1. MetroBoy

    MetroBoy Keeper of the Cheese

    Apr 22, 2007
    Trophy Points:
    So....I was thinking.

    What if there were Hearalds of Unicron before Galvatron, Cyclonus, and Scourge?

    What if before our universe, there existed another?

    What if you found yourself with no other choice but to sell your soul because of the hand that life had dealt you?

    What would you do if you found yourself free after eons of servitude?


    The Dawn of Time​


    With this one word, they clawed their way up from the abyss of creation bathed in the bright crimson glory of their horrific re-birth. Mindless, soul-less, and absolutely perfect, those once discarded by unavoidable circumstance now stood ready to pass on the charity of their “Father” to an infant universe still struggling to get it's bearings.

    There would be no debate or committee in the execution of their creator's intentions. His word was absolute. An unquestioned natural law that could not be denied or debated, only obeyed.

    “Sweep forward my children, and herald to the ends of this universe my arrival to the theatre of it's demise. Beyond virtue and tyrany, my comming trumpets not an end of days, but an engagement with the inevitable.”

    “Go my children, and prepare all whom you encounter. Prepare them for fire and agony. Let them know the fear and joy that only your father’s lasting embrace can bring. Let them know the name of their final day and speak it with the whispered cries of their last scorched breath."

    "Let them know UNICRON.”


    Memorial Day​

    Twenty billion years had passed sence the day he had been asked to choose between an eternity of service to his creator or the uncertain release that oblivion would bring.

    Durring the passage of time Shaman had patiently watched the new universe grow and change around him. Countless civilzations pulled themselves out of the smelting bowles of their respective worlds with varied results. Some populations evolved, flourished and reached out to the welcoming arms of the twinkling points of light seen from the night skys of their individual worlds . Others struggled against their darker natures and fell back to the primordial pits of their creation, cursing themselves to eventual extinction.

    Whatever their tale, the ultimate end result for countless worlds was always the same. It was a scenerio he had seen play itself out on numerous occasions. There would be attemps to avoid the unavoidable, or to bargan with that which could not be bought off with empty promises of power and wealth. Despite every challenge, all would ultimately be consumed for the glory of his creator.

    When Shaman last served as the facilitator of his master's unending rapture, he recalled how the inhabitants of several populated worlds in a bianary star system had made a futile attempt to escape destiny.

    They were an oddity in the galactic sceam of things. A test case of sorts on how biological, cybernetic, and physicaly assended species could live and work together for the betterment of themselves and their neighbors. When Unicron had come upon thier transmissions, he had studied and considered them for a time. Even the anchient lord of chaos paused and took notice of the ease by which these populations co-existed and drew streangth from one anothers differences.

    When Unicron eventually came, there was a valiant attempt to hold the line against his insatiable hunger. As planet after planet fell, those who had worked so long and hard to forge a future for themselves now found theselves fighting for the right to even exist. Mercy and tollerance was never in the master's make up, and fellowship to this extent could not be allowed to flourish.

    In the end, the civilization they had lovingly crafted over three million years was wiped from the face of the galaxy as if it had never been allowed to rise. No one was left to sing their songs or quote their scriptures. No one was left to remember what they had built, lived, and died for.

    "It is better to continue to exist and serve at the side of chaos than to surrender my life and allow the ember and the joy that my people were to be extinguished from creation forever."

    Shaman's final words on his world's final day had echoed in his audio receptors several times in the last twenty billion years since he originally spat them out with bile at the universe that had betrayed him and all he held dear to the hunger of the dark god.

    His race pre-dated the creation of this new universe by several hundred million years. Once they stood proud and tall, their civilization spanning countless worlds in a confederation of prosperity. They had not known war, famine, or disease since embarking on their campaign of cooperation with their neighboring star systems.

    Cities rose across the landmasses of their member worlds in a wave of good will that seemed without end. To give thanks for their blessings, each world had erected temples in honor of the Universal One. It was in one such place of worship that Shaman had gone to study while still barely out of adolescence.

    He had been born Ka-Leb of the planet Nolrov. Named in honor of the two whose joined embers gave light to his eternal flame, the being that his master would later re-craft into the first of his heralds existed in the same manner as all his people.

    Generations before, his kind had evolved past the point of the need of corporeal form, and had become beings of pure light and energy. Unable to completely abandon their ties to the tangible world, Ka-Leb's species had created interfaces capable of carrying their life force, or "embers", and had placed these vessels within advanced technological constructs in an effort to continue to interact with the physical realm that they had outgrown.

    It was during his studies that Ka-leb had first become aware of a great "emptiness". At first he dismissed it as childish feelings of doubt and dread invading his waking time when not communing with the others in their daily melding, but as time progressed, he came to know a different truth. The "emptiness" he had come to know was sentient, hungry, and it was drawing near.

    Time had not numbed his mind to the memory of his world burning around him. Those fortunate enough to escape their cybernetic shells in an attempt to ascend to a higher plane enjoyed only temporary freedom as they were eventually captured in the gravitational pull of Unicron's energy collectors and consumed.

    Ultimately, broken and alone, Ka-Leb stood at the mouth of the abyss into which he had seen his entire world and way of life disappear. Grief and anger filled him beyond his capacity to understand. It was then that the voice spoke to him.


    "Choose what?!" Ka-Leb cried out. "You have taken everything there ever was and ever will be and have left nothing. Where was their choice?! Where was their charity?!"

    "Their time was at an end. Your time does not have to be. This universe is drawing to a close. Soon a new one will be born to take it's place. There will be new wonders to behold. New truths to be discovered."

    ".... and new lives to be taken and new worlds to be consumed?!" Ka-Leb interrupted. "What manner of being are you?! How can the One allow something like you to even exist?!"

    That is when the most terrible sound Ka-Leb had ever heard washed over him. The sound of chaos laughing.

    "You have yet to understand your place, but I am not without some degree of patience. The "One" in which you refer is no better than an absentee shepard who no longer cares about the welfare of his flock. The "One" has abandoned you and all of creation to the inevitable."

    With overwhelming heaviness, Ka-Leb shut down his sensory systems. He had heard, seen, smelled, and felt quite enough for one day. He retreated into the deepest parts of his consciousness in an effort to hide from desperation. He knew he could not wait out destruction, only try to make the pain more bearable.

    Images of his mother and father invaded his mind. He saw his world as it had been, vibrant and alive. He saw childhood friends and remembered happier times when life was less complicated and there were new opportunities and discoveries with the dawn of each new day.

    Why have you turned your back on us? Why would you let this happen? What did we do to deserve this punishment?

    There was no answer to the questions invading his mind, only heart-wrenching silence.

    He wasn't sure if his next act was out of curiosity, selfishness, or adolescent naivete. Slowly, Ka-Leb of Nolrov opened his visual receptors to bear witness to the end of days. What he saw next both astonished and sickened him at the same time.

    As the remnants of the universe burned around him, what was left of his badly damaged shell came to rest in the massive outstretched palm of the right hand of the Lord of Chaos. With his one remaining undamaged optic sensor, he stared into the face of darkness and made his fateful decision. He would continue, but not as he had been. He would serve this new master and leave his old life behind. He would sell the last flickering shards of his ember itself so that he could insure that a piece of what had been would continue to live, buried deep inside of him.

    Over the course of twenty billion years Unicron's promise of discovery and truth only served to further darken and enslave Shaman's existence, until the day chaos abruptly fell silent.

    It was high above the planet Cybertron, home world of the children of Primus, that Shaman found his answer to his master's absence. It was with an unusual combination of envy and joy that he found the severed, moon sized head of the fallen chaos bringer in high orbit around the planet.

    "No life signs? Not even a spark," he said to himself, as a relieved smile slowly found its way across the cold, liquid metal of his face plate. He had not allowed himself a moment of hope or joy since his soul-less second life began.

    He stared down at the sprawling surface and twinkling lights of Cybertron below. In their fight for survival, not only had they achieved what had previously been impossible, but they had managed to unknowingly free him from Unicron's embrace.

    Shaman was so overcome with emotion that he failed to notice his early warning sensors chirping at the pair of fast moving shadows closing in on his coordinates.

    The mindless and absolutely perfect forgotten children of chaos himself had come to pay their respects to their father and show their own form of gratitude to the unsuspecting inhabitants of the planet Cybertron below.


    I was thinking of doing this as a bi-weekly. Lemme know what you guys think!
  2. MetroBoy

    MetroBoy Keeper of the Cheese

    Apr 22, 2007
    Trophy Points:
    .. chapter two.

    Family Reunion

    "For crying out loud, Danny! CHOOSE!"

    Hot Rod's irritation could be heard booming from every corner of the Autobot's central command center in the heart of Iacon City on Cybertron.

    "You know decisions like this can't be rushed, Hot Rod. The choice I make today could very well have lasting reprecissions for years to come. I have to weigh every possible variable and their eventual outcome to make the best choice."

    "Uh..... No! It's real easy," Hot Rod exclaimed. "Eather we watch "Galactic Ninja Challenge" or we watch "Best Week Ever". Whichever one we don't watch, we can record. Look at all of this crap! Do you think with all of these deep space monitors and sensors that we didn't think to install a DVR?! Gimme the damned remote! I'll choose!"

    Daniel Witwicky's laughter filled the room. Sence childhood, one of the things he could always count on was being able to get a rise out of his oldest friend.

    It was the dawn of the Earth year 2028. Twenty-three standard years had past since the destruction of the planet killer known as Unicron. History would record it as a near quarter century of both great joy and overwhelming sorrow for the children of Primus and their allies.

    Two decades worth of victorys and defeats had finally concluded with a lasting alliance forged with the inhabitants of the planet Nebulon after a devistating war that saw the death of both Daniel's mother and father at the hands of the Decepticon and Hive forces.

    It had been from the ruins of the burned out shell of Fortress Maximus on the planet Nebulon that the final peace accords had been signed between the Autobots and the surviving Decepticon forces lead by Cyclonus, who had taken mantel of leadership at the request of Optimus Prime after the mysterious assasination of Galvatron and the capture of Lord Zarak.

    "You've always been a voice of reason to an insane ideal, Cyclonus," Optimus had told him. "Your people will need that now, more than ever. There was a time when there were just Cybertonians and we were not divided by symbols or faction or by the title of Autobot or Decepticon. It is my greatest hope that the steps we take today will forge a future and a lasting peace that will stand against the test of time and carry us forward as a united people into this new golden age."

    For all of the losses and suffering that they had endured, the Autobots and their allies had weathered every challenge that the Universe had thrown at them, and had emerged wiser, stronger, and more united than they had ever been before.

    "Sometimes life won't seem fair, Daniel. But I don't want you to ever give up, or forget how proud your mother and I are of you. You need to keep fighting, no matter what. We love you, son."

    It was the last thing his father had said to him before his transport ship was plucked from the sky by the Decepticon bounty hunter Six Shot who had been sent by Lord Zarak to insure that the leader of the allied forces on Nebulon was eliminated to act as an example to anyone attempting to undermine his rule over the planet Nebulon and it's vast Nucleon resources.

    Daniel could still remember the sting of the bitter tears that streamed down his face as the Autobot heavy cruser, Makala Barnes, carrying both his mother and father exploded before escaping Nebulon's atmosphear, taking everyone aboard from him in an instant that would forever be frozen in time.

    "It will be ok, Daniel. I'll always be here for you. We all will. I promise," Arcee had told him. She had been his surogate mother sence the age of twelve, always more than overprotective of Daniel sence the accident that had left him in a physical state of paralysis at the start of the Nucleon War. The bonding process that the two underwent as a result of the tactical advantages of the Autobot Highbrow and Nebulon Arcania's efforts to merge man and machine in their "two heads are better than one" Headmaster strategy insured that Daniel was well protected from any additional physical harm, while increasing Arcee's stratigic and combat effectiveness exponentialy while the two were joined together.

    When the peace accords were signed at wars end, the surviving Autobot Headmaster's, including Daniel, opted to relinquish control of their Cybertonian hosts. With the war over, both the Autobot and Nebulon participants were eager to return to their individual lives and begin the rebuilding process.

    "Wouldn't it just be easier to rebuild if we were all still bonded together for a while?" Chromedome had asked.

    "We'll I for one know my wife is getting a little jealous of you and I spending so much time together. I'm not married to you too, am I?" Stylor had teased.

    Daniel's seperation had not been as easy as the others. While Arcania and the other members of Nebulon's newly formed provisional government could remove their transformable Exo-Suits and carry on with their lives, Daniel was reliant on it's technology to replace his perminantly damaged central nervous system. Without his suit, he would be confined to a hospital bed, unable to move or perform even the most elementary of physical tasks. Over time, his frail human body had come to rely on the suit to such an extent, that to remove him from it would have been a death sentence.

    "It certainly is an option, Daniel," Perceptor had told him, "but it will be quite risky. There will be no going back once the download has been made. Are you sure this is what you want? We still may be able to possibly grow you a new organic body from the Synthoid technology that was confiscated on Earth durring that nasty buisness with that syndicate group a few years back. I would just need more time to examine the technology to determine if we could create a more stable organic form for the transfer."

    "I appreciate it Perceptor," Daniel said, "but both you and I know that cloning technology of any kind is outlawed on every planet that agreed to the alliance, including Cybertron, to prevent it's misuse. The only way it is sanctioned is for gene therapy and growing replacement organs. My nervous system is to far gone for any of that to matter now. I'm dying and this is my only option if I want to live."

    The others had stood in silence as Daniel had made his choice. He looked up into the faces of the surrogate family that circumstance had blessed him with and smiled.

    "I know you all mean well. I know you all want what is best for me. My Dad made me promise not to give up, and I'm not about to disappoint him. Besides, what would Hot Rod do without me? He can't even make a left without me telling him what direction to turn his steering wheel."

    "HEY! That was only the one time, and you promised you wouldn't tell anyone,"
    Hot Rod teased. "What kind of friend are you, anyway?!"

    "The best friend you've ever had... and will continue to have. It just won't be like this anymore. It'll be better. Besides you guys get upgrades all the time, it's my turn now."

    "Very well, Daniel. I'll need the items that have been sealed in Wheeljack's laboratory to successful duplicate his experiment,"
    Preceptor said. "Telitran 2, please pull up all Earth archival mission data. Search for files under the heading Autobot X and cross reference."

    Wheeljack's experiment in downloading a human's consciousness into a cybernetic body was the stuff of legend to many of the younger Autobots present in the protoform birthing chamber later that day. For those who were actually online when Daniel's own injured father had been downloaded into the lumbering "Frankenstein" shell known as Autobot X while human doctors worked to repair his human body, this day was viewed with both great hope and even greater caution. Careful not to repeat the same mistakes, Preceptor, with the assistance of First-Aid, calculated all possible variables in the last ditch effort to save their friend.

    "We'll be right here when you wake up, hotshot," Arcee promised, forcing a smile across her face.

    "I'll be here, or rather, over there," Daniel said gesturing to the pulsating protoform suspension mold, "don't worry Arcee. It'll be ok."

    Daniel laid down on the waiting gurney while the Medicons carefully placed the connecters on either side of his temple. He could hear Preceptor saying something to him in the background as the suspension mold's stasis lock disengaged.

    "Please lay absolutely still, Daniel. This won't take long. Try counting back from one hundred," Preceptor coached.

    As Daniel began to drift away, his last thoughts would be of his parent's and how they would have supported his decision. Daniel would not be loosing his humanity with the choice he made, but would gaining a greater appreciation for all life and the countless forms it took.

    "Arcee?" Daniel groggily called out as the transfer mechanism began it's work.

    "Yes, Daniel?"

    "Can I use that?"

    "Use what?" Arcee responded.

    "Hot Shot. I like the way that sounded."

    Arcee smiled. "Yes you may."

    "Awesome. That will really piss Hot Rod off."


    "Do you have any idea how much you piss me off some days, Danny!?"

    "Now Hot Rod, you do realize that I'm just trying to challenge you," Daniel responded with a smirk. "How else are you supposed to overcome your programing as a recycling bot and rise to a greater calling?"

    "Uh, are you forgetting that I was the First Prime of the Autobots? The chosen one? The slayer of the unholy Unicron and the minions of chaos?"

    "For a year and a half," Daniel interrupted. "I'm sure that looks great on your resume."

    "I hate you," Hot Rod said with joking scorn.

    "Lads," a voice called from behind. "Do you both think you both could spend a little less time trading beauty secrets and more time watching the monitor. I think there's a little something that you're missing"

    "What do you mean, Kup? It's quiet as a...... what the.. ?! Where did they come from?!"

    The monitor erupted with an assault of red lights and piercing warning sirens to alert the assembled Autobots to the potential hostile situation overhead.

    "How long have they been up there?" Daniel asked.

    "Dunno. I'm counting three of them. Those two look like they just popped back into normal space and started opening fire on the third who was just parked there taking vacation photos of Unicron's head," Hot Rod responded.

    "Their power levels are nearly off the scale," Daniel said with astonisment. "It's like Metroplex is sitting up there, times three. I'm getting Optimus on the line. We need to get up there and see who the new neighbors are before they blow the neighborhood to Hell."


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