Chapter 63: Starscream

The battlefield was chaos incarnate.

Transformers, legions of them, descended upon their enemies in a violent, merciless onslaught. Their attacks were brutal and efficient, cutting through opposition like a cosmic scythe through grass.

The Chitauri tried to push back with a counteroffensive, their numbers and desperation fueling a frenzied resistance.

Their energy cannons did manage to inflict damage, each blast punching through the armor of less-advanced Cybertronians, leaving sparking wrecks in their wake.

But that was the extent of their success.

Against the true, high-tier Cybertronians, the Chitauri weaponry was laughably ineffective, like scratching at a tank with a spoon.

These prime Cybertronians had upgraded alloys in their armor, integrated with Vibranium elements.

That meant they could absorb, redirect, or neutralize a vast array of energy-based attacks.

Deploying them onto the battlefield now was less an act of warfare and more a massacre. It felt like giants stomping through a playground.

SHRACK!

A blur of blue streaked through the war-torn skyline, Optimus Prime, his form gleaming with resolve. Wielding his massive Energon sword, he launched himself skyward.

The force of his leap cratered the 700-meter-high skyscraper beneath his feet, causing the structure to groan, shudder, and begin to collapse.

Massive chunks of concrete and steel plummeted into the abyss below with a deafening roar.

Optimus paid no mind to the hailstorm of incoming fire. He surged forward, aiming his sword at the head of a massive Chitauri Leviathan soaring overhead.

KRREEEEECH!!

With one decisive blow, his blade sheared through the creature's alloy-reinforced armor like paper, exposing its grotesque inner workings—part organic, part machine.

The beast screamed in agony.

It plummeted from the sky like a meteor, crashing through several buildings before its bulk finally smashed into the ground with a thunderous crash, shaking the battlefield.

Captain Marvel floated in midair, eyes narrowed, stunned by what she'd just witnessed.

"These mechanical beings... they're unlike anything I've encountered across the cosmos. No glaring weaknesses—mind, emotion, strength, physiology—it's all terrifyingly balanced. Who engineered lifeforms like this...?"

Even for someone of her power, classified at sub-Skyfather level, Carol Danvers knew better than to underestimate either of the titanic figures she'd just seen: Optimus Prime... and Megatron.

Just then, a jet screamed past her, nearly grazing her arm. It released a payload of missiles that tore through a wave of Chitauri foot soldiers, sending them flying in fiery pieces.

"Hey, airhead! Off the battlefield unless you're actually fighting!"

The voice crackled from the cockpit, arrogant and mocking.

Carol frowned. She crossed her arms with a huff of irritation.

WHAM!

Before the jet could get too far, a shadow darted up from below, dark silver and sleek. A figure grabbed both wings with mechanical hands and yanked downward with violent force.

"My lord?! M-Megatron, my lord—!"

The jet spiraled downwards, panic etched into its voice. As it descended, it began shifting midair, transforming with practiced ease into a humanoid robot. Slightly smaller than Megatron, its crimson optics glowed with a mix of intelligence and calculation.

Starscream.

Megatron's massive hand clamped around Starscream's throat like he was wringing a disobedient pet.

"You disobeyed my orders, Starscream! I told you: advance—never retreat!"

His voice was a storm of cold fury. He shook Starscream once, twice, his grip like a vice.

"N-no, my lord! I was merely repositioning!" Starscream wheezed, his tone instantly shifting to pleading obsequiousness. "You know my aerial squad's full of green recruits. I was merely educating them! Teaching them the tactics of true warfare... But of course, if I've displeased you, your command is law, Lord Megatron! Your will is supreme!"

He rubbed his hands together nervously, eyes darting, posture groveling. It was almost convincing.

Almost.

Megatron narrowed his crimson eyes, leaning in, his snarl animalistic.

"Then hear this, Starscream: I'm giving you a new directive. Attack. Now. Cross the dimensional rift and bring destruction to the Chitauri mothership!"

"W-what?!" Starscream stammered, freezing. His gaze locked onto the enormous vortex swirling ominously nearby. "That thing's a death sentence! If I go in, I might never come back! You'd lose a loyal and valuable lieutenant!"

He flung his arms around Megatron's leg in mock desperation.

Megatron's smile turned predatory. Cold, calculating.

He'd never liked Starscream.

To be fair, the Seeker was remarkably capable, his skills in command, strategy, and aerial combat were top-tier. But Starscream's ambition and cunning were matched only by his self-interest. That scheming glint in his optic was always there, always plotting.

Megatron preferred subordinates like Shockwave; precise, efficient, and utterly without ego. Give Shockwave a task, and he'd execute it with unflinching logic, compiling probabilities and optimizing every action.

Starscream, on the other hand?

He was a jester. A slippery, silver-tongued trickster. But watching him squirm like this? There was a certain satisfaction in that.

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