Author's Note; This is a Tokusatsu [Sentai/Metal Hero]-inspired fanfic that exists in it's own universe. Chapter 1- Welcome To The Apocalypse. Millions of years ago, a mysterious cosmic phenomena descended upon the utopian planet, Cybertron. This phenomena, known as Black Dust, quickly bled Cybertron dry of it's natural resources. Shaken by the rapid decay of their once-plentiful paradise, the planet's inhabitants, called Cybertronians, descended into feudal anarchy. Divided into various baronies, the disgraced population had scattered all across the planet, hiding in the ruins of their ancestors' former glory. Sifting through the decaying rubble, an ebony and lavender mechanoid searched the deserted ruins with a strange scanning device. It's optics flashed with intrigue, uncovering a black square case beneath the rubble. Pulling the box free from the rubble, the mechanoid carried it over to another of its' kind, presenting it's find. The one in charge, a Drone with a missing servo, nodded before ordering; "Unit M-3.8, throw the artefact on the pyre." Obediently, M-3.8 walked over to a mound of flaming cartridges, before throwing the newly acquired item onto the fire. Silently, the machine stood by, watching the ancient artefact he had uncovered slowly burn to a crisp. The flames scorched his optics, before he turned his back to avoid it's vicious glare. Recovering his wits, Unit M-3.8 then regrouped with a contingent of similarly clad machines, before marching behind his squadron. Once he was marching in tune with the others, the Vehicon couldn't help but notice a peculiar rhythm from the way he was marching. Left, Right. Left, Right. Left, Right. Nothing but those same two beats. Left, Right. Left, Right. Marching through the seemingly endless stretch of charred rock and twisted metal, the drones kept moving, chatting amongst themselves. "There's been no activity from the other Baronies in 2 vorns....' 'Does that sound suspicious?' 'Slaggin' dust, getting in my joints...' But at the back of the contingent, Unit M-3.8 found himself haunted by the sight of the burning film. Concerned, one of his fellow drones, a Vehicon with a slight limp, tapped on his shoulder before asking, "Brother M-3.8? Are your systems properly calibrated?" The drone shook himself awake from his daze before answering, "I-I am fine, Brother M-3.7..." In the distance, an ominous tower marked their destination, as legions upon legions kept marching ahead, their steps made harder by the familar, yet coarse terrain of rock and ash.