"Fak… this has to be fake."
"It's just special effects. Must be dubbing!"
"Do you know how much energy a monster that size would require? Impossible. Completely fake."
"Pfft, another scam by some cult freaks!"
"But wait… how is that reporter floating in the sky without wires?!"
That final question silenced everyone.
It wasn't only chatter on the internet. Across the entire world, billions of eyes were fixed on the enormous metal altar rising in the western deserts, and on the man standing at its summit—Sam, High Priest of the Eternal Religion, preparing for sacrifice.
Camilla, the reporter chosen as their voice, wore her headset and listened to the incoming flood of doubts. Most of the world now questioned whether Optimus Prime was real, or simply another elaborate fabrication.
So she turned to Optimus Prime and asked clearly, "Can you show them, so everyone will understand? What does it mean to be from Cybertron?"
Optimus's optics glowed. "Very well. Autobots—transform."
But this was not the metallic shifting humanity had glimpsed before.
This was different. Terrifying.
His steel body rippled like water, liquefying as though his very existence had melted. In an instant, Optimus reshaped himself into a monstrous Tyrannosaurus rex. Black scales glistened beneath the sun as the beast let out a roar that shook the altar. Then he opened his maw—
Boom!
An energy cannon burst forth, blasting a barren wasteland into a crater stretching hundreds of meters wide. Entire tracts of desert became a forbidden zone.
The massive dinosaur shimmered again, transforming fluidly into a giant warrior wielding a glowing sword, performing a flawless martial kata. A blink later, his body compacted, streamlined, wings unfolding until he was no longer a robot or dinosaur, but a roaring jet fighter screaming into the skies.
The world fell silent.
Humans were not the only ones dumbstruck. Even the Decepticons, watching from afar, froze in disbelief.
"That's… Optimus Prime?"
Autobots could fly? And this liquid-metal transformation—what kind of impossible upgrade was this? If Cybertron had possessed such power before, the Decepticons would have been annihilated ages ago.
Megatron's crimson optics narrowed, rage and humiliation burning like fire. He glared at the triumphant Optimus soaring above.
"This traitorous fool! To betray Cybertron for this so-called Eternal God—I'll never forgive him!!"
"Boss," hissed Starscream from the shadows, his cunning eyes gleaming, "why don't we seek out the Fallen? Let him strike first."
Starscream was the very picture of treachery, sly and sniveling. Everyone knew his reputation: cowardly, quick to run, incapable of fighting head-on. His words always dripped with hidden venom.
"The Fallen…" Megatron snarled, his fury rising. "Hmph. That relic is no better than you. A coward cloaked in fear! Only I, Megatron, shall bring terror to the galaxy!"
His anger boiling over, he kicked Starscream across the cavern, sending him crashing into the rock.
Megatron clenched his fists. Liquid metal. The ability to heal instantly, to morph freely into any form needed, to become the perfect warform. This was the ultimate body for Cybertronian life.
And now it belonged to the Autobots.
Unacceptable!
But he also knew the truth. If he challenged Optimus Prime now, he would be obliterated.
His only chance was to awaken the Fallen. Let that ancient warrior strike first.
…
Moments later, a terrifying shockwave rippled across the desert as Megatron launched himself into the skies, soaring toward another galaxy.
Starscream groaned, pulling himself from the rubble. He sneered. "Idiot finally left."
The moment Megatron's signal vanished, Starscream's expression twisted into mockery. He activated a hidden communicator, his voice a venomous whisper.
"This is the spy. Reporting in. The woodpecker has flown—Megatron is heading to awaken the Fallen."
"Continue observing," the reply crackled.
"Understood."
Alone, Starscream smirked. His metallic frame rippled, turning into liquid before vanishing into thin air.
Megatron was right about one thing. Starscream was a coward. But what Megatron never expected was that Starscream's cowardice would drive him to betrayal. The instant he witnessed Optimus Prime's transformation, his loyalty shattered.
He had chosen his side.
…
In the western deserts, the altar was alive with chanting.
One by one, the towering Autobots knelt, bowing their colossal frames before the shrine.
At the summit, Sam carefully placed the AllSpark—their precious source of fire—upon the altar. He fell to his knees, his voice echoing in the ancient tongue.
"Great God of Eternity… your disciple Sam beseeches your descent…"
At that exact moment, across the Federation, ceremonies mirrored this one. Not only the faithful of the Eternal Religion, but even Autobots themselves began reciting the Eternal Meditation.
Far beyond, in the divine domain, Liu Che stirred.
A chime rang in his mind. Slowly he opened his eyes, rising from meditation.
At his side, Wang Yuyan stirred, her cheeks tinted with soft blush. "My Lord," she whispered, "do you wish to descend now?" Her eyes gleamed with devotion, a mixture of reverence and longing.
Liu Che smiled faintly. "No need to train today. Rest."
With a nod, she vanished gracefully into the palace depths.
Now alone, Liu Che gazed into the void.
The Transformers' world—this was a bright, thriving universe. Its laws were strange, unlike the ones he knew. Great beings had once reigned here: the Universal Emperor, the Primordial Heavenly Lord Yuanshi Tianzun. But both had fallen into endless slumber during ancient wars.
Their might was vast, but limited. At most, they could rival Kaguya of another plane.
Liu Che's lips curved. "Let's see what awaits me this time."
He tore open the veil between realms, preparing to manifest the Domain of God across their skies.
But then a thought struck him.
What if the mortals saw it all—every hidden truth of the Transformers' fate?
He acted without hesitation.
An image bloomed across the heavens, stretching larger than continents.
A living tapestry, more brilliant than any screen, more vivid than crystal. The sky itself became a scroll.
Billions gasped as the vision unfolded.
Scenes played out in the firmament: Autobots descending, the Decepticons scheming, Megatron's first fall, his return, the Dark of the Moon, and beyond. Every chapter of their history streamed above them in dazzling detail.
It lasted for hours. A chronicle of war and ruin.
On Earth, people stood paralyzed.
"What is this…? Why is the sky showing a movie?"
Sam gazed upward, heart pounding. This was no film. This was divine revelation.
Yet within the vision, something strange appeared—an image of Sam himself, weak and small, struggling through ordinary life. School. University. Work. Hardship.
The crowd murmured in confusion. But Sam seized the moment. His voice thundered through the broadcast:
"Do you see? Without the Eternal God, this would be our world! A barren ruin! A wasteland of betrayal, war, and despair!"
"The arrival of Cybertron nearly destroyed Earth. Even if it had not come, the fourth age shows the truth—humanity's own science and greed would reduce our world to ashes!"
Faces paled across the globe.
Sam's voice grew more fervent.
"Wake up, lost lambs! Without God, this world is doomed to chaos. Without His light, mankind will tear itself apart. But God has descended! His hand reaches for us—why will you not bow before Him?"
His words struck like lightning.
Believers and skeptics alike fell to their knees, trembling.
Humans were fragile. Their dreams of control meant nothing before such vast power.
The Autobots might survive beyond Earth, but humanity? Without salvation, they would vanish.
So they prayed.
Together, billions prayed.
A blinding radiance exploded from the altar, flooding Earth, searing the void of space. The light stretched across the stars, illuminating even the deepest, darkest corners of the cosmos.
…
The universe trembled.
The slumbering Universal Emperor stirred. Even Yuanshi Tianzun opened his ancient eyes.
"Is this… the Creator?" one murmured.
"No," whispered the other. "This is greater than the Creator."
Then the heavens split.
Light collapsed into form. A figure emerged, vast beyond comprehension, descending in glory.
"When I was born, all things withered. Worlds unborn were still dust."
"When I slept, ten thousand realms awoke. Countless creatures took their first breath."
The voice shook galaxies, shattering sound and silence alike.
Megatron, who had just reached the Fallen's tomb, froze as his systems crashed. His very sound processor shorted, unable to function beneath that voice.
The sky rained with starlight. Suns dimmed. Entire galaxies bent under the presence now revealed.
One eye, alone, opened. Larger than worlds. Unfathomable.
No mortal could comprehend the whole.
Autobots collapsed into heaps of quivering metal. Their detection systems fried, their courage annihilated.
God.
A true God had descended.
Sam burst into tears. He raised his arms toward the heavens, voice breaking.
"Your believer Sam greets the Eternal God!"
The believers roared in unison, but their cries were drowned in the divine.
The God of Eternity had awakened. Stronger than ever. No longer bound by slumber. His power radiated endlessly.
Liu Che's voice, vast yet intimate, rumbled:
"Rise. I am pleased with your sacrifice. As for the history you witnessed—Sam, you know what must be done."
Sam trembled, bowing so low his forehead struck the altar. "Yes, my Lord! If any dares disturb Your peace, I shall cast them into the Ghost Sea!"
The weak who proclaimed to protect humanity—fools! What the world needed was not their arrogance, but devotion. Only pious believers could inherit the future.
Liu Che's massive gaze gleamed with satisfaction. He drew the AllSpark into his grasp.
Ding.
Your believer Sam has sacrificed the wonder of the universe—the AllSpark. The offering triggers a ten-thousand-fold return. You have obtained the Path of Perfect Mechanical Civilization.
Note: This path may ascend as high as the Middle God realm.
Liu Che's brow arched. "Oh? A cultivation path designed for mechanical life? Surprising."
In his understanding, technology had always been a pale shadow compared to theology. Weak. Incomplete. Mere toys beside true divinity.
But this… this was different. His knowledge had been too shallow.
Sam knelt upon the altar, motionless, daring not even to breathe.
Then God spoke again:
"For your meritorious sacrifice, you are granted the Power of the Thunder Titan… and a lifespan of ten thousand years."
Sam's heart nearly burst.
"Though this world disappoints me," the voice continued, "it can still be saved. Teach them well, Sam. I also bestow to you knowledge of the mechanical civilization."
A single gesture.
A thread of divine light pierced Sam's brow, filling his mind with an ocean of knowledge—schematics, laws, transformations. The path of machines to godhood itself.
Though the transmission was cut, limited to the divine threshold, it was more than enough.
Sam wept openly.
The future of man and machine had been reborn.