Chapter 60: The Outriders
Among the ever-growing ranks of Transformers, a new breed had emerged, powerful beyond the baseline, though not yet classified as Tier-3.
But there was no question: a glance at their chassis architecture, energon output, and system indices was enough to conclude that these warriors vastly surpassed the artificially awakened Earth-based Transformers.
That's right, these new Cybertronians were trueborn. Brought to life through Protoform Pods, their CNA (Cyber-Nucleic Acid) had undergone precise sequencing, modification, activation, and full gestation. They were forged, not fabricated—authentic Cybertronian lifeforms.
And more than that, they carried Vibranium within their frames.
These pure-line Transformers began their existence leagues ahead of their artificially constructed counterparts.
...
[TRANSFORMERS UNIT DATA]
Faction: Decepticon / Autobot Corps (Soldier)
Personality: -- (---+---)
Height: 6 meters
Energon Output: 1.2 million units
Status: Optimal
Combat Rating: Tier-2
Signature Quote: ----
Evaluation: As products of the official Cybertronian reproduction model, these Transformers form the cornerstone of their species. Their specialized CNA sequences determine their functional superiority across various fields.
...
And that's the baseline data.
When you factor in their inherent ability to scan and assume alternate forms, self-modify subsystems, process battlefield data at supercomputing speeds, and endure physical impacts no flesh-and-blood organism could survive, it was clear.
Every trueborn Transformer wasn't just a soldier.
They were the equivalent of an Earth-born superhero, and a powerful one at that.
This was the Cybertronian birthright: a warrior in every spark.
"Except maybe those little runts from the Cassette Corps. Those guys are at the absolute bottom of the food chain."
Martin frowned, shaking his head. He still lacked a proper intelligence officer. Be it Blaster or Soundwave, just one of them could save him a mountain of trouble.
Now, his growing army stood ready, primed for battle, waiting to unleash destruction.
...
New York City.
Perched atop Stark Tower, Loki stood motionless, face cold as the void. In his left hand, he clutched the Tesseract; in his right, the Scepter of Mind.
Two cosmic forces clashed, surged, and collapsed in on each other. In that instant, the sky glittered with starlight, as if whole constellations shattered and were reborn in the span of a heartbeat.
"Two cosmic-tier relics," Loki whispered. "Such a shame... neither truly belongs to me. For now."
His gaze dropped to the city below, eyes gleaming with unfulfilled desire. These were treasures of the gods, but they had yet to fall fully under his command.
Still, one was enough, just one, perfectly mastered, and he'd have power enough to rend the World Tree itself asunder.
At a thousand meters above the city, the wind howled.
"I've never minded playing the lapdog of some great power… so long as they can afford the price of my betrayal."
With a grin like shattered glass, Loki mounted the Tesseract into a sophisticated dimensional apparatus. Blue light flared like a newborn sun. The machine activated.
A massive beam of energy lanced skyward, its cerulean hue bleeding into the clouds, warping the heavens. Under the gaze of stunned onlookers, it ripped open a gate to another world.
"Is that one of Stark Industries' new energy projects?"
"Who's the clown in the ugly getup?!"
People peered from windows, phones and binoculars raised. What they saw defied explanation.
A swirling blue vortex consumed the sky. And from within that churning void, shadows emerged, fast and countless.
"What the hell is that alien freak doing?!"
Tony Stark took action, firing a repulsor blast at the machine. It was useless.
The Tesseract's energy field was self-sustaining, far beyond the output of any Iron Man armor. His gauntlets flared again, this time at maximum power. Still, no effect.
"Foolish mortal!" Loki sneered. "You think this is your domain? This is divine power! Bow, and await the judgment of your gods!"
With a snarl, he leveled the Scepter. A violent surge of energy struck Tony like a thunderclap, flinging him across the rooftop. His armor buckled and scorched, a jagged scar torn across its chestplate.
Then, the portal stabilized.
A screech sliced through the air like a banshee's cry. From within the vortex emerged a swarm of alien aircraft—unnatural, shrieking constructs.
Their velocity tore the air as they passed, an auditory assault like ten thousand hornets spewed from a cosmic hive.
The Chitauri had arrived.
And they were only the vanguard.
Leviathan-class war-beasts—grotesque, biomechanical monstrosities—roared like titanic whales as they surged through the gate. Each one carried legions of Chitauri troops within their cavernous innards.
"Aliens! Oh God, they're aliens!!"
"Get ready! Arm yourselves! Where's the military?!"
THOOM!
From within the portal, several monolithic black obelisks followed, falling like wrathful meteors. When they struck New York, the earth shook. Towers shattered. Waves of destruction rippled out with each impact, reducing whole city blocks to ruin.
Thousands died.
And this was still only the beginning.
As the obelisks cracked open, they disgorged nightmarish beasts, four-armed, obsidian-skinned war wolves, shrieking as they poured forth in tidal waves of muscle and fangs.
The Outriders had arrived.
Thanos' elite bio-engineered shock troops.
"Monsters! They're everywhere! Somebody help!!"
"Where are the Avengers?! Where's the military?! Anyone?!"
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