Jungle Tyrant (An Autobot Academy Story)

Discussion in 'Transformers Fan Fiction' started by Dropkick, Dec 11, 2019.

  1. Dropkick

    Dropkick Doktor

    Dec 5, 2016
    Trophy Points:
    Middle Of Nowhere
    Dropkick presents...

    In association with the Autobot Academy Development Team...

    Jungle Tyrant: Origin

    The lenses of the past can sometimes reveal what may come to be. Besides, it is always good to reflect on the past. For one, the history books don’t always tell the full story...

    Chapter 1: The Flames Of War


    That is one of many things I remember. And then there was light…

    I remember that day, being born to a day of chaos.

    I open my eyes to see a burning pavilion. Father standing next to mother, holding out a sword as he fought a monstrous beast. The Jungle Dragon, Guardian of The Cave Of The Ancients, had awoken, and was laying waste to our city.

    I felt weak…

    I was Powerless…

    Father died that day. Mother disappeared that day.

    I was left to rule a portion of the Jungle Kingdom… The Lumadragos territory. Animatros was once a mishmash and hodgepodge of miscellaneous feuding territories… ruling families and different clans gathering followers of their beliefs and that they were the most powerful...

    One could only tell when the chaos would reach its breaking point…


    “Lord Yharon! Lord Yharon!”

    Yharon opened his eyes, before sighing.
    He then stood up, sword in hand.

    “Crux, what is it?”

    Yharon's loyal servant, Crux. He was kind of pathetic, but he was a loyal beast. It mattered not he was weak. What mattered was his loyalty. And loyalty was hard to come by in the society that Yharon was building.

    Crux bowed down.

    “Sire, it appears as though the Northern Kingdom Ataxia has not agreed to our treaty. They’re moving out against our forces in the Northern occupied territories.”

    Yharon sighed, before standing up.

    “You want something done right, you gotta do it yourself. Who’s in command at the Outpost?”

    Crux nodded.

    “75th Shock Cavalry, led by Bronzefoot. It appears that they’ve held out against Ataxian forces for the past 15 Cycles now.”

    Yharon nodded.

    “Send a messenger ahead, tell that I will be arriving soon. We will quell this rebellious kingdom soon enough.”

    He transformed into his dragon mode.

    “What has the Phobos family agreed to?”

    Crux nodded again.

    “Their oldest daughter, Raizus, has been offered to you in a peace offering.”

    Yharon nodded.

    “Very well, that is all. Gather my Vanguard and have them guard the Throne Room and whatever else is of importance until I return. You are dismissed.”

    He spread his wings, and flew off.

    As he flew, he was lost in thought again.


    How did I get here?

    I remember vaguely, the day everything went wrong.

    Mount Vulkin.

    My sisters, My younger brother… My lost mother.

    The Lunar Cult. They wanted the promise of power… but there had to be something sacrificed. No power came uncompromised…

    They were trying to summon their lord and saviour Unicron…

    I couldn’t save them… My family.

    I was born talent-less. It was pathetic.

    “Anything for power.”

    The cultist nodded.

    “For Unicron.”

    They threw my family into the pit of boiling lava, reciting their prayers to the Dark Crucible…

    I still remember their screams… their dying words echoing in my ears…

    I lashed out.

    I don’t know why I didn’t act until then.

    They did their best to restrain me and they as well tossed me into the flames of that pit.

    It burned.

    The lava felt hot, and it burned the metal that made my body.

    But it felt good. I felt power surge into my body.

    Your power came at a price, but it shall be given.

    I roared when I emerged back from the Lava. I still do not know whose voice I heard that day, but I cared not.

    I burst from that lava a new mech. I was angry. I was ready to take on the whole world.

    Those cultists… they were terrified of me.

    When I came down, I did what I felt was right. I killed them for killing my family.

    They perished. Everyone perished on that fateful night.

    I roared into the sky. A feral roar that declared who had come.

    I decided my fate that night.

    The weak, those who relied on their false idols, and their false beliefs, needed to die.


    “Lord Yharon!!”

    Yharon shook his head as he approached the outpost.

    He transformed, and landed with a heavy thud. Dust spreading out under his massive form.

    His troops cheered.

    “Our King has arrived!”

    “The battle is won!”

    Yharon shook his head. His troops, loyal as they were, could also be blind to many things. Just because he had arrived did not mean the battle was to be won.

    It was decided.

    Yharon stepped forwards, his intimidating glare looking down on all of the soldiers ahead of him.

    “Ataxians, I give you one choice.”

    He drew his massive sword. It shimmered in the light of fire, and shined with a brilliant orange and yellow glow in the sunlight.

    “Surrender and submit to my kingdom. If you do not, you will perish. Only the strong survive. That is my final offer.”

    One soldier laughed.

    “Oh is that so?! And who are you to command us like your playthings?”

    Yharon sighed.

    “I offer salvation. If you refuse.”

    He slammed his sword into the ground.

    “So be it.”

    He swung it in a massive arc, and cleaved the Ataxian, who was still laughing, in front of him clean in half.

    His face was stuck mid laugh, as the top half fell over. Yharon kicked the body over, and stepped forwards.

    They immediately started to cower.

    “That was Gauntlet! He was one of our strongest soldiers!”

    “Avenge his death!”

    “For King Braelor!”

    Yharon shook his head once more.


    He transformed his left hand, and shot swaths of fire at them, before transforming it back into a hand, and swinging his sword back to his right.

    “Soldiers! Follow me! We fight to the death!”

    Yharon growled as he pushed forwards and into the growing number of soldiers. They stabbed, and cut, but nothing broke Yharon’s sword…

    His soldiers, well trained as they were, also cut down the Ataxians in swaths and chunks.

    Screams of anger, hatred, and fear rose, as fire started to engulf the battlefield.

    Yharon felt at home. The heat of a thousand deaths burning down into his sword as he cut down one after another.

    This was his life.

    This was his battle.

    It felt good.


    I remember my first rampage. The Flame king, Hades, saw how weak the Lumadragos kingdom was becoming, and decided to declare war against us, and assimilate our lands into his. They were fierce fighters, and most of their battles were along the rivers and coastlines where they could easily drive people with their fire...

    So I did what any logical ruler would’ve done.

    I destroyed his city.

    I gathered what I could, and used all the power I could muster, and scorched his kingdom.

    He lived with his people in the Volcanoes, so I just toppled them. I went into a frenzy. The fire gave me power, it gave me life.

    I remember throwing bodies around like nothing. People called me a deranged beast. A monster lurking in the body of a Animatronian.

    That I was a herald of Unicron. I was some chaos bringer to their lands…

    It mattered not.

    I would destroy the Flame King’s legacy.

    I took his lands for my own, and soon enough, we fought each other.

    It was my fight from the beginning.

    All of the fire he threw at me, he fired at me, I took for my own.

    The fire gave me life again. It didn’t matter that my core felt like burning up. It didn’t matter my spark felt like bursting, I was alive again. Screams echoed through my ears as I took his life.

    And so, let it be said here and now.

    The fire will always give me life.


    The battlefield was left empty as Yharon slowly strode onwards towards the Ataxian capital.

    “Pathetic. I assumed these proud warriors would have provided much more of a challenge…”

    He stabbed his sword into a body as it tried to crawl away.

    Bronzefoot stepped up to Yharon.

    “A brilliant victory by our Lord Yharon!”

    The soldiers all cheered, as Yharon continued on his way.

    “Grab your weapons men. We march on the Capital tonight.”

    Bronzefoot nodded.

    “At once my liege.”

    The soldiers all started to pile over, and followed after their master lord.

    They marched for days on end.
    Through lakes, and marsh, and river...
    After some days of marching, Yharon stood at the front gates.

    “Here we are. No mercy, my soldiers. Kill every last one of them.”

    They all cheered in raucous applause, as Yharon slammed his shoulders into the door.

    The guard started forwards, as the common populace started to flee.


    It was all pathetic.


    My second rampage was against the Frost King, Frost-byte. He ruled over a colder region of Animatros, and I requested his aide. He was knowledgeable. He was smart, and everyone told of his infinite wisdom. I came to his palace, seeking to make a friend. But he denied me from the outset.

    I was enraged. I was furious. I scorned him, and told him he could live the rest of his days in that pathetic palace he called home.

    I trapped him there as I burned his kingdom to the ground.

    I watched it all burn.

    The natural cold was turned to a blazing heat.

    The ice and snow that sat in the woods evaporated in the blink of an eye.

    He begged mercy for his people. He begged for me to take him instead of his citizens. Compassion will only get you so far.

    It was kings like this. Bots like this that get people killed. They’re weak. It was bots like this, who didn’t purge weaklings who relied on false gods…


    The Throne Room was massive. But that mattered not to Yharon. His massive form looked down on the puny, hunched over form of the once proud king of Ataxia.

    “You did not surrender, nor did you decide to follow with the Lumadragos accords. What have you to say?”

    The king shuddered.

    “P-please, have mercy! I did nothing wrong, I just wanted to be independent of your kingdom!”

    Yharon nodded.

    “By doing so, you’ve marked yourself an enemy of the Empire.”

    He slid his sword into the kings chest, and drew it back out, letting the king fall from his throne.

    “You are the most pathetic excuse for a king I have ever met. Die like the trash you are.”

    He turned around and walked towards his troops.

    “Burn the castle and the supplies. Leave nothing for anyone to scrounge up.”

    He looked outside as he saw the approaching banners.

    “After that, we move out again. We have a rebellion to quell.”


    I don't have a bio written or anything like that for now, so have some concept art.


    Yo everyone, it's Dropkick.

    So, first off, I'd like to thank a couple people.

    First, I need to thank @Stonecrusher for creating this wonderul universe that me and Gogo can create Lore for, and also giving me feedback on what would and wouldn't fit into the Universe. It's truly an amazing thing, so thanks for letting us do this Stone.

    Second, I need to thank @Devaron9 for helping me with ideas, being someone I can talk to, and relatively taking my ideas and helping me improve them. He's a huge help, and an amazing part of the Dev Team, so thanks for all the support lad.

    Finally, I gotta thank @GogoDG for... well, doing the one thing that is hard for anyone to do, and that's motivate me. I have a hard time motivating myself, so it's nice to know that Gogo's there to pick up where I'm lacking, and there so we can share stuff whenever. Me and Gogo had all these fun, amazing ideas, and now we're able to fully implement them into this universe, and that's a truly special thing. Thanks for being there for me Gogo.

    Now, this project's been in my scrap bin for a while now, but I decided I might as well bring it out of the gutter now. This won't be as ambitious as Gogo's project, I've never been one to finish long projects. It's only going to be about 10-15 Chapters at max, but in either case, it's an idea I had to improve on the lore of one of those characters I made a while back.

    I'll do my best to keep a consistent Update schedule, so I will do my best to post updates on Saturdays @6:00 CST. No guarentees.

    Hope you all enjoy, and sorry if this little Author's note was lengthy. I just had a lot to say.

    -DK out
    Last edited: Dec 13, 2019
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  2. Dropkick

    Dropkick Doktor

    Dec 5, 2016
    Trophy Points:
    Middle Of Nowhere
    Chapter 2: Terragon, The Unbreakable Shield

    Years Earlier…

    Terragon sighed as he sat at the outskirts of his town. All was peaceful. It was as it should be. He was born in the middle of a war, but he was already retired.

    His village sat at the outskirts of the kingdom, and that’s where he wanted to be.

    He laughed as a smaller bot ran over, and hugged him.

    "Hey tyke, how are you?"

    The little dinobot grinned.

    "Stop calling me that Big Bro, I'm fine, don't worry about me... why are you always so boooring???"

    Terragon smiled.

    "One day, you will see. Not everything requires something fun to do. Some days, you need to just sit and watch."

    Looking out to the horizon, he frowned. There was a dust cloud fast approaching his town. He sighed as he stood up.

    “Who could be coming here at such a quick pace?”

    He went to the gates as a bunch of raptor-cons transformed, and started to walk up to Terragon.

    “Sir Terragon, we require your assistance!”

    Terragon sighed.
    “I’m retired, I would like to live my days in peace, thank you.”

    One of them held up a notice.

    “We have a decree. All able bodied soldiers are to report to the capital.”

    Terragon shook his head.

    “I am not coming back to the Ataxian Capital. I will not return to active service again."

    He waved them off, as they conversed with themselves.


    Terragon sat at a table, with him his siblings and mother.

    "May Primus bless the day we've received, and may we be blessed forever."

    There were footsteps outside his house, and Terragon sighed.

    "Of all the times..."

    A knock on his door.

    He walked over and opened it.

    "Residence of Terragon of house Aegir?"

    Terragon groaned.

    "I'm having dinner with my family, I would like to be left alone."

    One nodded.

    "We have an offer. 50,000 Shanix for every hour you're enlisted."

    Terragon turned around.

    "No. I have a family, I'd like to have dinner with them."



    "We can't take this! We need his power! Without him, we're helpless in this war!"

    Braelor groaned.

    "Is there anyway we can convince him?!"

    A soldier shrugged.

    "We've tried every trick in the book! Money, Fame, Power, Land, everything, yet he still denies our offers!"

    "Perhaps we should try something... different."


    The soldiers, came around, with a notice for Terragon.

    "Sire, something for you to see."

    Terragon shook his head.

    "And I told you, no."

    They pulled out a parchment.

    "We've received word of an attack on your village. They'll be arriving in a few cycles time. We desparately need your help."

    Terragon sighed.

    "You cannot be serious..."

    The soldier nodded.

    "We are, sir. We wish it were different."

    Terragon nodded.

    "Fine... but only to protect my home. Nothing more. I fight for my home, and once it's safe, I will be allowed out of service."

    One nodded.

    "Yes, yes, of course."


    There was a knock.

    Terragon went to it, looking outside.
    And there, was a shadow in his doorway.

    "Come. I have something to show you."

    Terragon looked at the shadow suspisciously.

    "How should i trust you?"

    The shadow looked at him.

    "My name is High-Hide of the Sword-Shinobi clan... I have a very important thing to show you. Trust me, you will want to see this..."


    Terragon looked at the banner that sat in the middle of the scorched town.

    The Ataxian banner flying high above the ruins…

    High-Hide nodded grievously.

    “You see why I have brought you here?”

    Terragon shook his head.

    “I… can’t believe it…”

    High-Hide nodded.

    “You see now, where your destiny lies. I have brought you the truth. I have shown you a way.”

    He extended his hands to Terragon.
    “So will you come with me? Will you fight with me?”

    Terragon nodded, and grabbed High-Hide’s hand.
    “Of course. Time to bring down the Ataxia Family.”


    Faction: Maximal
    Talent: Super Strength, Damage Regeneration
    Alt-Mode: Euoplocephalus
    A heroic bot blessed with two talents and massive amounts of power and strength. As word of his feats spread throughout the land, the ruling party of the time sought to have him return, in order to maintain control over the masses. Throughout all the attempts to win him over, the only successful one was when the ruling party fabricated a story about how his hometown was about to get destroyed by an enemy army - a story that was almost instantly disproven by a close comrade. Now convinced of the kingdom's treachery, Terragon became the mighty figurehead of a growing rebellion. His rebellion grew so much, that he was about to seize the kingdom from its corrupt owners. However, what he didn't expect was for a far stronger enemy to overthrow them first, before turning their attention towards his rebellion...
    Last edited: Dec 23, 2019
  3. Dropkick

    Dropkick Doktor

    Dec 5, 2016
    Trophy Points:
    Middle Of Nowhere
    Chapter 3: The Deadly Assassin, High-hide

    You were born on a day when the sun shone brightest in the sky.

    It was a sign from the Heavens themselves, they said, they told you, they convinced you. You were chosen to be the best, the smartest, brighter than the very sun you were born under. You were fated to hold the reins of the future.

    Your mother held you in her arms and called you the Chosen One with a smile. You were smiling, too. Her lips curve and bend gracefully when she says your name. High-Hide, your mother’s voice makes it sound like gentle ringing bells chiming in the wind. With the future in your hands, on your shoulders, in your eyes... You look up at your mother and her flowing hair shines in the sunlight like a dark honey, and her eyes radiate her joy in sparkling tears. You have never seen anything so beautiful.

    You were raised to follow in your father’s footsteps. When you hold the blade for the first time it is a heavy weight in your small hands. You do not understand the first time you wield it, the actions are too foreign for you to comprehend. They tell you, in time, you will understand. In time, you will be just like your father.

    You were raised to spend your time studying and honing your craft, but eventually and inevitably, you get bored. And so you find every opportunity to sneak away and lose yourself in the fiction of others – of the common people, of heroes, of villains, of those who play outside in ways you never have. You come to realize you love the stories with happy endings - you want a happy ending, too.

    Your mother finds you reading by the dim light of a dying candle one night. Go to sleep, little sparkling, the way your name floats from her lips sounds like a song. I’m sorry mother, I only wanted to know what happened. You apologize; you could never lie to your mother the way you lie to the scholars. She laughs at the stories you read and sits beside you.

    I will tell you a story then, she says, and her words become the silky ink that paints portraits of cloudy mountaintops and shimmering rivers, her voice sings of ancient heroes who fought and died for the ones they loved, for the beautiful maidens who descended from the very heavens themselves, and the mythical dragons and phoenixes that perhaps once dotted the sky in a ferocious stream of color, of song, and of life. You dream of your own freedom outside the confines of your studies. You dreamt of a happy ending.

    You do not want to be just like your father.

    Your mother smoothes back your hair when she catches you in tears sitting in the darkness of your unlit room.

    You ask her not to tell anyone of your sadness - the ancient warriors did not cry when they fell, the last dragon did not cry before its end.

    The stars at night have seen you cry, she tells you. She gently carries you to bed and tucks you in. Your tears are not a weakness, she says. She reads to you that night, stories of young curious heroes from far, far away. You cry harder. You want a happy ending.

    You remember the day the attack came. You were found. The kingdom of Lumadragos had come in and destroyed the home you lived in. Yes you were saved by the Sword Shinobi clan, but you miss your mother. You wanted to live otherwise.
    You wanted a happy ending.

    But you never got one.


    He was panting, energon running down his temples and a deep frown aiming at his adversary. His teacher, Gene-Byte, stopped the combat and booped him on his nose.

    “No heavy breathing. You need to be a shadow. Shadows don’t breathe.”

    High-Hide rolled his eyes but said nothing. He closed his lips and breathed twice to calm down. He looked past behind his Teacher. Several others of the Sword-Shinobi were gathered around, watching their training. They were, after all, the promising generation of the future.

    As soon as he recovered his breath, High-Hide asked for another spar, willing away his body's fatigue. And so he did. And he fought.

    The training continued for several hours as the sun crossed the sky and the audience decreased. When the moon first appeared, the teacher concluded the training and left the field. All the trainees fell to the ground, exhausted, breathing evenly and resting their grinding gears by spreading them across the ground, putting aside the strict protocol that they should follow. Many would consider that such intense training was too much for sparklings, but that was exactly the objective.

    Around that age, all the Foundlings were enrolled to different training regimes, analyzing their results. Those who excelled were going to work from that moment on in increasing their talents. It was obvious that High-Hide had all the skills to become a warrior or an assassin, the most prestigious roles among the Sword-Shinobi's roles.

    Piledriver and Stasislock were laying on the ground, their legs and arms spread on the grass, their rounded faces looking especially tired.

    “C’mon, High-Hide. No more training for now.” Another trainee said, trying to convince his friend to stop following the protocol and let his exhaustion take over his small frame.

    But High-Hide refused. He forced himself to his feet and stood straight and proud even as he could feel weakness in his legs after such a long day of training. Looking around for a distraction, his eyes fell on the place, beyond the fence dividing the field from the rest of the Moon's Meadow, where the audience had been watching. Only one was left there, a child like him. Their eyes met for a second. Despite the distance, High-Hide noticed the peculiar light purple colour of them.

    The eye contact lasted a moment before the other boy smiled at him and clapped his hands in support. High-Hide raised his eyebrows, surprised by that reaction, but also by that smile. His eyes would not move away from it. What was so special about that smile that it had drawn all of his attention?

    But the question lasted as a nocturnal breeze of summer does. Unfortunately, a couple of adults touched the boy’s shoulder and said something to him. The boy with purple eyes looked back at him one last time, and with a wave of his hand, he followed the other adults.

    High-Hide was not sure if he had met that kid before. It had to be. After all, every child had been exposed to hard training in the last five months to determine their abilities. But somehow, he could not remember this particular one, and it was hard to believe he could not do so. That big, bright smile was impossible to forget. It was a smile that was going to kept vivid in his mind for days. He would remember this kid if he truly met him before.


    A couple weeks before the fall of Ataxia...

    High-Hide was long since back to normal, or as normal as it would ever be you assumed. A curse was no longer resting upon him, making you forget time and himself. The only problem was that remembering was a worse curse to him. With years having passed once again as if it was none, once again he drifted further and further away from the place he belonged. The one place he had long since realized he should never have left.

    He had been seen circling like a bird of prey and he was sure he looked like that to most. A lost, bewildered bot that felt out of place in the world. Some weren’t sure what he wanted, but he knew what he was. He wanted nothing to do with the civilian populace.

    He came to the village, grabbed the most recent news, and downloads, and that was about it.

    Maybe you could trust him, but it wasn’t like trusting him meant anything after all. Everyone knew the story. The last of a fictitious clan that had supposedly been wiped out.

    As such no one paid him much attention.
    He was just another lonely, wandering soul in the midst of all the chaos.

    The lone figure went... and travelled, until he eventually went back to the mountain in which he resided, alone, cold, but away from prying eyes and meddling hands.
    High-Hide looked back out to the sunset as he sat on the mountain.
    High-Hide sat on the edge of this mountain much like he had done every night since coming back from his fleeing of the Temple of the Ancients.

    When he fled his home and left his friends and teacher to die.
    He turned the small meteor blade over in his hand.

    High-Hide watches the stars fall as he sat.

    He looked up at the skies as he saw one of the moons above the planet, and grabbed his sword.
    The heat from his sword was dying.
    The light that had kept him alive in the frigid cold of the Animatros nights now was barely a whisper of warmth. He pressed his palm over it, as if trying to will his own heat into its center and bring it back to life. He knew it was useless. In another day or two, the light within would go out entirely and all that would remain was a dull, lifeless blade. The profound sadness he felt at the thought of this was jarring.
    His living area was never heated. He had no use for this thing and should have thrown it in a bin weeks ago.

    High-Hide pressed the blade to his chest. The rock did its best to project its warmth through the thin material of his metal.

    High-Hide gritted his teeth, before he slammed the rock back on the shelf beside his bed and grabbed his datapad. He leaned back and began to scroll through the day’s reports. He pulled up a series of surveillance reports taken over the last week, flipping through bland landscapes, shadows and landmarks that may or may not have been kingdoms.

    His finger hovered over one of the images. A pair of humanoid silhouettes ran from a Kingdom Occupied Barracks in the dead of night. One tall and lean, the other short and scrawny. Behind them was a larger humanoid, a mass of muscles with short pointed ears, long arms and tri-toed feet. An AB-75 Beam Bow was strapped to his back.
    High-Hide sighed.

    "They fight well. Maybe...They could help."

    The report noted the suspects had fled the base in a small shuttle. The Officers in charge informed agents that they could not pursue the shuttle as all transports had been sabotaged; they also could not shoot the shuttle out of the sky as all of the outpost's energy had been drained into canisters of which the figures had taken with them. The base, for all intents and purposes, was crippled.


    These rebels crippled the barracks first with the assumption they were going to get caught. They stayed alive because they always assume their job would fail in some way. They are the worst criminals and yet the best escape artists.

    High-Hide should have felt enraged and a month ago, he would have been. These rebels were nothing but energon worms, bothersome gnats that one swiped away, never noticing just how much they bleed their victim until it’s too late. They would be worthless to him.

    But something felt off about it.

    They had a great determination.
    He knew that the kingdom put high faith into their soldiers, but why then did his reports show that the troop morale was declining?
    He looked to one of the news articles.
    Ah there it was.
    Well renowned warrior retires early at age 200.

    He might need to pay this one a visit.
    He might prove valuable.


    He still smelt the brimstone as he ran through the streets.

    His teacher had stayed behind to fight the coming waves.
    Next to him stood Center-Line.

    "You must go without me. I cannot bring you anymore. You must continue your journey from here High-Hide."

    High-Hide looked at Center-Line with a look of sadness.

    "Will I be able to see you again?"

    Center-Line sighed.

    "I do not know. I must fight for our home however. You know I must."

    High-Hide looked away.

    "But I can fight too! I want to fight as well!"

    Center-Line pushed him into the woods.

    "You are our last hope. Follow the creed. We will meet again soon. I promise, my friend. I will tell teacher of your accomplishments."

    That was the last High-Hide would see of either his friend or his teacher.
    He was saddened, for he was alone for the longest time, but he moved on.
    The screams of those dying echoed as he finally left into the shadows of the forest.
    Maybe he would find peace soon...
    But not today.



    Talent: Shadow Body

    Alt-Mode: Lion


    The founder of the Sword-Shinobi Clan, he was a master assassin that always treated his comrades with respect. He never failed a single mission, nor failed to defeat any opponent until his untimely demise at the hands of Draedon. Killed early in High-hide’s life, he never got to see his pupil’s fullest potential, but nonetheless was very proud of his student when he was alive.


    Talent: Stealth Swimming

    Alt-mode: Shark


    One of Gene-byte’s oldest students, he was a strong and deadly warrior only paralleled by Gene-byte himself. He took things too seriously however, and was always made fun of for treating training exercises like the real thing. An unfortunate detail is that his talents lay only in the water, so when a massive army approached and purged the Clan he was a part of, he perished along with them.


    Talent: Stealth Running

    Alt-Mode: Bird


    A prodigal ninja raised as the final legacy of the Sword Shinobi Clan once they realized that their clan was all but doomed to fall. Honed to a lethal edge over years of training, High-hide made his escape once the Jungle rulers' armies came to annihilate the clan, taking out a massive swath of them in the process. Living in the mountains and making a reputation for himself as a bringer of silent death, he eventually found a purpose in assisting Terragon’s rebellion against the rulers of his homeland, and later against the Jungle Tyrant himself.


    Author's note:
    Sorry for the wait, this took a LONG time to write, and the perspective might be a little wonky, but that's my fault more than anything. Dear heavens this took too long. Anyways, enjoy the chapter!

    Last edited: Jan 16, 2020
  4. Dropkick

    Dropkick Doktor

    Dec 5, 2016
    Trophy Points:
    Middle Of Nowhere
    Chapter 4: The Ingenious Inventor

    At a young age, Daedalus' mother parts from the rest of the congregation and carries him down some steps. “You’re old enough now to join the other kids,” she tells him. Daedalus only yawns, still sleepy from having to wake up so early. Usually, he slept right through church services while his mother pets his head, but it seems that simple reality is beginning to change. “You’ll get to do all sorts of fun things while you learn about all the Saints...”

    She continues to speak softly to Daedalus until they come into a loud room. Other kids, some his age and many older, running around or playing with toys. Daedalus' piques his head up in curiosity and examines the room. It’s brightly colored, with colored tiles lining the floor, just like his playroom at home. There are lots of tables with papers and pencils and crayons. There are even shelves and so many tablets. Daedalus' mother chuckles when Daedalus wiggles out of her arms and makes his way right over to a shelf.

    “Majungus,” one of the other mothers, Daedalus doesn’t remember, admonishes. “You’re still carrying him? He’s more than old enough!”

    Daedalus picks out a book he thinks looks interesting, something about Alchemy, and walks back to his mother. Majungus puts a hand on Daedalus' head and pulls him close. “I’ll hold him as long as I’m able, Conduit. Is Leo joining the school this year as well?”

    Daedalus' mother chats for a bit while Daedalus reads. It’s a cute picture tablet, warning about the dangers and reasons one should not delve into alchemy. Lots of artists portray alchemitsts as older, loonier people, but in this book they're actually very young. Maybe this story takes place before they went against the heaven's wishes? Daedalus is still a little too young to understand that Alchemists were real people who did real things and not just characters in stories who always have the same appearance.

    “Hello, Majungus,” a new voice calls. Daedalus doesn’t pick his head up from his book.

    “Ah, Zetamus, hello. How have you been?”

    “Very well. Will your son be joining us this year for school?”

    That gets Daedalus' attention. He keeps the book open but raises his gaze. Majungus's fingers run through Daedalus' hair. “He is! I’ve tried to get him excited, but I’m not certain he understands... Ah, well, you can see he loves to read. Perhaps if he doesn’t enjoy the lesson of the day, he can pick up a book.”

    To that Zetamus nodded.

    "I'm sure he will be a fine student indeed."


    It was always a war. Wars everywhere on Animatros.
    He did not know what else to do.
    It was ridiculous.
    But there was a problem. Daedalus was getting old. He had invented a way for those without the ability to fly the ability to glide and fly anyways. He had given his people power, and weapons that could rival anyone or anything.
    He had even made a machine that was capable of scaring off the Kingdom of Lumadragos, one of the largest growing kingdoms in Animatros.
    But he was getting old.
    He was aging, and his joints wouldn't keep up at this rate.

    He needed more time.
    He had already seen two of his helpers die from Age-Related Burnout.

    It was only a matter of time before he perished as well.

    He needed a way to work around this problem.

    There were too many discoveries to be made. Too many things to find. Places to see. He had only touched but a fraction of the Universe…

    Hearing a doorbell ring, Daedalus slowly raised his hands and towards a central terminal, that let him see the outside world.

    He tapped a screen, before the screen popped up and showed him a notice.
    “Visitor at the gates.”

    He sighed, before grabbing a wrench.

    “Apex, turn on Voice Chat. I cannot be interrupted.”

    His smart AI, Apex, could be heard.

    “Acknowledged. Unidentified Ankylosaur and Eagle will be spoken to momentarily.

    A few moments after Apex said those words, Daedalus could hear the speakers come on.

    “Is anyone in there? Hello, we’d like to talk to the Scientist. We got a crisis on our hands.”

    Daedalus shook his head.
    “I have a name, and it’s Daedalus. Now if you’d be so inclined, leave me in peace. I have more important matters at hand.”

    A second, more calm voice spoke up.

    “Excuse my… ah, boisterous friend. He tends to be annoying sometimes. Allow me to introduce ourselves. I am High-Hide, last of the Sword-Shinobi clan. This is Terragon, the strongest bot to live on Animatros. We currently are in need of your help.”

    Daedalus continued to work on his things. He heard a knock on his door again.

    “Come out already, I hate having to talk to a stupid door!”

    “Patience Terragon, he requires his things in order to work.”

    Daedalus shook his head, as he mixed some chemicals together.
    “If you are so inclined, I am currently working on a form of un-aging Energon. I cannot help with your petty tasks right now.”
    Terragon slammed his fist against the door, causing a dent.

    “Dammit, you’re supposed to be the smartest bot in all of Animatros! You made the Buster sword, Turbo Axe, Wind Lance, and Skyward Shield among other things! Hell, if the Jungle Planet Cyber Key were to actually exist, you’d be the one to first find it! So why won’t you help us?!”

    Daedalus shook his head.

    “There are some things more important than fighting a war, dear Terragon. Such as finding cures, discovering worlds, much more than just these petty squabbles you concern yourselves with. If you do not have anything worthwhile for me, than leave.”


    By the time Daedalus had finished placing the vial onto one of his racks, he looked back to the screen. They were still there.

    "You boys might catch frostbyte. Or worse. You still want me to join you?"

    High-Hide nodded.

    "We fight against a foe far greater than anyone has ever seen. A powerful tyrant that will stop at nothing until all that he sees is his. Including your city. Do you truly want for your people to suffer?"

    Daedalus sighed.

    "... I don't know if I can trust that. I have seen a lifetime of calamity and chaos on Animatros. Too many wars for my liking. Well... there's not much I can do right now. But I can give you this."

    A holomap showed up, with a download port. To which High-Hide plugged in a drive to download it.

    "That is a map showing every major cache of weapons I made when I was in my younger years. Maybe it will help you on your journey. For now, leave me in peace. Until the advent of calamity is at my doorstep, I shall not intervene."

    Terragon shrugged.

    "Suit yourself. We offered you our help. Thanks for the tip anyways."

    High-Hide bowed.
    "It is truly and honor. Thank you for helping us on our journey."

    Daedalus's voice had an air of gratitude and concern as it came out.

    "Yeah... I hope you are successful on your journeys as well. If what you say is truly a grave danger, surely you two will be able to stop it."

    The two warriors left, and Daedalus was left to his own devices.

    Did I make the right choice? Is it alright to really stay here in this laboratory?

    He hook his head.

    It doesn't matter. This machine means life and death for me. I must finish it.


    A shadow cloaked in enigma walked towards Yharon's palace, a bag in tow behind it. A liquid dripped from the bag, but it was such a common occurence to bring the Jungle Tyrant a sacrifice, that it wasn't looked down upon.

    The shadow approached the guards, and they stopped him.

    "Halt. What business do you have with our Lord?"

    The shadow laughed.

    "I am here to offer my services..."

    A large blue orb formed in his hands, and a sleeping toxin was released, knocking out the two guards.

    "And please. Call me Draedon."


    Talent: Multi-Arms

    Alt-Mode: Supersaurus

    A brilliant craftsman and scientific genius, but also a known pacifist who dedicated his life to uncovering the secrets of life itself. As he aged, he turned his attention towards the construction of a miracle machine that would allow him to cheat death. However, his city was soon attacked by Yharon’s unstoppable forces, under the direction of Draedon himself. Feeling guilty for abandoning his citizens in favor of his life's work, Daedalus detonated his masterpiece and destroyed the city, taking most of the army with him.
  5. Dropkick

    Dropkick Doktor

    Dec 5, 2016
    Trophy Points:
    Middle Of Nowhere
    Chapter 5: Catharsis

    Draedon stuffed his things into his ship, before turning back to Yharon’s palace.

    “I apologize. I must withdraw. My research requires as such. You must face these challengers on your own Yharon…”

    Draedon closed the doors and took off.

    He heard a low rumble, and to his side, was Nullvoid.
    “Yes, what is it?”

    Nullvoid raised a tentacle, and rubbed the back of Cirrus’s neck.

    “Yes, yes, in due time. For now, we must continue my research on… you.”

    He turned to a giant tube, which held a specimen.
    “My Celestial ruin. My, perfect creation.”

    He held up a red stone, glowing and pulsing with great power.
    “The power to bend and forge reality to my will… and with it, become the most powerful being in the universe…”

    He laughed.
    “Soon… but for now, we wait…”


    Raizus shook in terror as she picked up her baby.

    “Shhh… be quiet little one. We will be gone from here soon enough.”

    As Raizus looked on, guards yelled at her to put her child down.
    There was chaos.
    The Palace was crowded with soldiers and other advisors, but that was for naught.

    As Raizus lifted her child into her arms, she looked to the soldiers.

    "So long as this child is mine, you will never have my freedom again!"

    She threw out her free arm, and brought brimstone crashing through the roof, and through the castle.
    It started to burn, and it started to fall.

    As the palace walls, the trees, and bricks, and everything that made up the entirety of that forsaken fortress, Raizus ran. She ran, and ran, and ran until she couldn't run anymore.

    She found herself a cave, and a ninja.

    A ninja named High-Hide.
    He took her in, and together, they disappeared, forever.


    Terragon could only stand as the army advanced upon him, swords and axes at the ready.

    “To think after everything…” He said to no one, “It came down to this…”

    Hefting his shield and mace, he readied himself.

    “But the rebellion does not end here,” Terragon noted, “As long as someone’s willing to fight for what’s right… there will always be hope…”

    “I cannot agree more,” a voice spoke up behind him. Before Terragon could react, a blast of crimson fire ripped past him and into the army ahead, followed from the other side by a burst of white frost.

    Turning, Terragon saw two dragons flying past his position, with ten more reptilian shapes approaching from the fog. The two dragons ripped through the enemy forces with jets of fire and frost.

    “The hell is…” Terragon asked nobody in particular.

    “You alright, man?” one of the ten turned back to him.

    “who… are you?” Terragon could only ask.

    “Oh, we’re just a group of roving knights who got sick of the local government’s bullshit,” the dragon replied, transforming into a shortish but still brutal-looking robot mode, “Name’s Fangblade.”


    “Heard of you. Leader of a Big rebel faction. Scourge was actually thinking of meeting up with your group to help take down the tyrant,” Fangblade looked around, “But, uh, you seem to be in a bit of a pickle.”

    “Everyone’s been overwhelmed,” Terragon noted, “This may be the last battle for Animatros’ soul.”

    “Well, glad we came around, then!” Fangblade noted.

    “…Which one is Scourge? I would like to thank him for his reinforcement.”

    “The fire-breather’s Scourge,” Fangblade pointed out as the fire-breather in question dived into another foe and roasted them alive, “Ice-mouth is Stormrazor. Greenie mcBigJaw is Ripclaw-“

    “Worry about introductions later!” Another dragon, the Ripclaw in question shouted, “Get back in the fight.”

    “Op! guess I took too long, oh well,” FangBlade transformed into beast mode, “INTO THE FRAY WE GO!”

    Terragon grinned slamming his mace into the ground.



    Yharon looked off to the approaching envoy of 12 knights, and their leader.
    So they had done it.

    They defeated Bronzefoot and his army.
    They had passed his vanguard.

    And now they were coming to the palace, to challenge him.

    It was all worthless though.

    The fire inside of him was gone.
    He didn’t feel like fighting anymore.
    He had already lost everything. What more could he want?’
    He conquered all of Animatros. The Combatronians had lost, and his dream of standing at Overlord’s side as a ruler of the cosmos was for naught…

    His dreams, his wife, his troops, his creation, everything had been burned away into ash and flame.

    He sighed, setting his sword into the ground.

    He watched as Scourge approached, axe in hand.

    Yharon nodded.

    “So you’ve come.”

    Scourge raised his axe to Yharon’s head.

    “Stand and face me, Jungle Tyrant. I seek the throne, and as such, I challenge you to a duel, so that I might prove my might.”

    Yharon stood up, and sheathed his sword.

    “There is no point in fighting anymore. You want my throne, take it. You want my kingdom? It’s yours.”

    Scourge slammed his axe into the ground as he walked off.

    “Suit yourself. But know, you are banished from the kingdom, and may no longer walk here. Your legacy ends here.”

    Yharon nodded.

    “So be it.”
    He started to walk away.

    “My legacy is already destroyed. There is no more that you can destroy…”

    He walked down the hallway, seeing the twelve knights that had accompanied Scourge.
    He transformed.

    “This is my fate… so be it.”

    He flew off.

    And that was it.
    The end of a dynasty...

    It had ended not with a climactic battle between two immense forces…

    It ended with a surrender. A whimper.
    The flames of the tyrant of the jungle had finally been extinguished.



    (No Artwork this time around, sorry folks.)

    Alt-Mode: Nasutoceratops

    Talent: Technomancy


    The mother of Calamitas lost to time, Raizus did not have a good life. Like, at all. She was abused by her subjects for being a "witch", she was abused by her father, she was abandoned by her mother, abused by her uncle once her father died, and then her hand in marriage was bought by the Lumadragos family. She married their Tyrannical Son, Yharon, and she was abused to no end when he became the now infamous Jungle Tyrant. Once Yharon sided with Overlord, she fled, taking with her a daughter Yharon had no idea about… and since then she's been lost to history.


    Hey. It's Dropkick. Bit of a lengthy Author's note this time. But... it's been a while, huh.

    So I know you're all probably wondering what even happened, and honestly, I don't know either.

    I felt like I needed to end this story, but at the same time, I didn't know how, so I just decided to post the ending I had in mind anyways. Damn the details, they don't really matter anymore.

    I have no more ideas, no more plans, just... silence.

    That's why, after consulting with my family, my IRL friends, and a number of other people I'm very close to, I've decided that I'm officially "dropping" from the Autobot Academy Development Team.

    So, thank you Stonecrusher. Thanks for letting me contribute at least a small bit towards Autobot Academy. For letting me do at least something for such a cool and interesting universe. Thanks for giving me something to believe in again.

    Thanks for the ride. It's been nice.

    Last edited: Jun 12, 2020