I held the thirtieth beer of the night, my fingers heavy around the cold glass. The bitter taste didn't matter anymore, it was just another useless sip in a failed attempt to feel something. The alcohol didn't do a thing. No dizziness, no haze, just that same empty void.
On the TV above the counter, the journalists debated with distressed, indignant voices. The forest. Always the damned forest.
"Restricted zone established at maximum perimeter… mandatory evacuation… official death toll remains unchanged…"
That was it. The slaughter had stopped, for now. But nothing erased the fact that the number had stopped at a count far too high. A number that carried my name, even if no one knew it.
If I'd been more careful with the energy release… none of this would have happened. No forest or creature would have been cyberformed by my power. No lives were lost because I lost control of my powers for a moment.
From my corner in the bar, I couldn't help overhearing the muffled conversation of a few men at the table beside me. The TV buzzed in the background, but paranoia was louder than any headline.
"What the hell happened out there? Was it some government experiment?" one of them asked, his voice thick with skepticism and suspicion.
"I bet it was the Chinese… or maybe the Russians. Those sons of bitches are always up to something," the other replied with complete conviction.
I rolled my eyes. Of course. Always the "others." Always blaming anyone but the face in the mirror.
The blame was mine… and yet humanity's old habit persisted: throw stones at the unknown, repeating the same cycles of fear and prejudice for over 300,000 years.
One of the guys noticed me looking at him. He stared back. It was the kind of look that didn't seek conversation, but rather any reason to fight.
Seriously? Now? I admit, I'd been staring. But it was more distraction than provocation. I hadn't even realized my eyes were fixed on them… but for some, that's already a capital offense.
Both stood up from the table and headed my way. They were big. Broad shoulders, calloused hands, thick beards—two old-school tough guys, the kind who believe masculinity lives in their fists.
It's hypocritical of me to judge, though, isn't it? After all, I'm the oldest human in history. Literally. These guys are just fresh fossils.
"I don't want trouble," I said, raising my hands, trying to keep my bad day from turning into a bar cliché.
"You were staring at me. Who the hell do you think you are?" one of them growled, leaning in, his breath a mix of beer and anger.
"Look, how about this? I'll buy you a drink. We'll pretend this never happened and everyone walks away with their teeth still in their mouths."
He frowned. The second guy crossed his arms, looking heavy and suspicious.
"You're not from around here, are you? Where are you from?" he asked, his tone laced with distrust, almost like he already knew I was… different.
I smirked sideways, that tired smirk of someone who's seen centuries of stupidity.
"Man… if I were completely honest with you, you wouldn't believe it."
A girl appeared behind the two brutes. She couldn't have been taller than five foot three, maybe less. Small frame, but her presence? Unquestionable. Black hair with purple streaks down to her shoulders, skin almost alabaster, lips painted a dark shade that clashed with the dim bar lighting. Her clothes were short, revealing her midriff, and everything about her screamed goth, in the most literal and threatening sense of the word.
But what really stood out were her eyes. Purple. Intense. As if they saw everything… and silently judged.
"If you two don't want to see your faces pressed into the concrete… leave." she said, her voice low, firm, with not a trace of hesitation.
The two men laughed. Of course they laughed. She looked fragile, small… maybe even cute, in their minds.
But the very next second, one of them had his face smashed against the wall, the whole bar freezing at the sound of the thud. The other dropped to his knees with a dislocated shoulder, letting out a guttural groan.
I didn't even blink. Just took another sip of my beer.
"You seem quite comfortable with your strength, even in this form. I congratulate you on not killing them with your first strike," I murmured, ignoring the groans of the defeated.
She looked at me with disdain, adjusting the short jacket on her shoulders.
"This human form… is disgusting," Airachnid growled. "How do you stand living like this? Everything is soft, weak… limited."
"Welcome to biped life. Fragile and full of hormones," I commented sarcastically.
"Hormones? What is that?" she asked, genuinely curious. No sarcasm, no irony, she really wanted to know.
I froze for a second. Looked at her. At the two heaps of flesh her human body flaunted effortlessly. Seriously?
"You're telling me you don't know what hormones are?" I asked, incredulous.
She blinked slowly, like a predator who still didn't understand the nature of its own disguise.
"You're a damn sexy alien spider… and you don't know how this works?" I muttered, almost laughing at the absurdity.
I mean, come on. She's an Insecticon Queen. The only Cybertronians capable of generating life on their own. Creating entire armies is literally what queens do. She's a walking biological nightmare.
But there she is, with a human body that could stop traffic, asking me what hormones are?
"Don't look at me like that. You did this," she retorted, narrowing her eyes.
"Hey, hey, hold up. I only adapted your body to look human. I wasn't the one who decided to make you look like you just stepped out of a sci-fi fetish from the 2000s. That part's all you, little queenie."
She crossed her arms, which only made things worse, or better, depending on your point of view.
"So… this discomfort I'm feeling… it's because of that? Hormones?" she asked, almost with disdain.
"Welcome to puberty, express version," I muttered, downing the rest of my beer.
Airachnid stared at the glass like it was some kind of scientific anomaly. There was genuine curiosity in her eyes, even though she was clearly trying to hide it.
"What are you drinking?" she asked, still not looking away.
"Beer," I replied, swirling the amber liquid in the bottom of the glass. "For you to understand… think of it as adulterated Energon. Something that would get a Cybertronian drunk and out of control."
She raised an eyebrow at that.
"I've never been drunk," she said with a mix of pride and… maybe a hint of interest, maybe.
"Seriously?" I gave a half-smile. "Me neither. The AllSpark inside me neutralizes any toxin, poison, or anything similar. Even the good stuff."
I stared at my own distorted reflection in the glass for a moment.
"I'm just trying… to feel more human. Even if it's only for a few seconds."
I looked at her. Her curiosity was obvious, even if she tried to mask it. Too much pride to admit she wanted to try.
"Waitress," I called, waving two fingers. "A drink for her."
Airachnid gave me a surprised look.
"You're in human form now," I explained casually. "Maybe it's time you start exploring the… sensory side of the species. Who knows, you might even like it. Theoretically, your body is compatible with most human experiences. In practice… we're about to find out together."
She hesitated, staring at the glass the waitress placed in front of her like it was a bomb about to go off.
"Are you trying to turn me into a human?" she asked, suspicious.
"No, but since I assume you're going to be stuck to me, we might as well find something in common."
Exactly ten minutes later…
I was walking through the dimly lit streets of the small town, carrying Airachnid on my back like a backpack full of trouble and embarrassment. Her arms dangled loosely over my shoulders, her legs swinging slightly with every step.
It was unbelievable. One single sip. One. And the deadly alien spider who once hunted anything for sport was now completely out of it. Drunk. Laughing to herself. Muttering nonsense.
"Have you ever noticed how the streetlights look like… giant insect antennae watching humanity?" she whispered in my ear, stifling a giggle.
"Yeah, sure," I grumbled. "And apparently, I'm a Transformer moonlighting as an Uber now."
She planted a kiss on the side of my face, or tried to. She ended up kissing my ear instead.
"You… you're soft," she said, as if it were the greatest compliment in the universe.
"Yeah, definitely… you're never drinking again," I murmured, shaking my head. "I'll shut you down if you ever get near alcohol again."
She laughed again, a strange sound, somewhere between cute and disturbing, coming from a drunk alien assassin.
Maybe the worst part was admitting, even if only to myself… she was actually kind of adorable like this. In an absolutely chaotic, reckless, and dangerously lethal way… adorable.