Honestly...
Watching the Ballerina Twins dance, Lorien didn't need to do anything—he just lay back, hands folded behind his head, and watched.
They moved like butterflies in flight, their performance dazzling. Even when Lorien occasionally thought about joining in, the twins would press him back against the bed, whispering,
"Leave it to us."
At that point, what else could he say? All he had to do was lie still and relax.
The Ballerina Twins performed like true ballerinas, showing off their grace to the fullest. They twirled elegantly before his eyes, their poses stunning, every motion filled with charm.
Lorien never imagined ballet could be applied here of all places. It truly opened his eyes. The movements were so precise, so overwhelming, that it felt like he was about to be crushed under the sheer intensity of their performance.
Their waists bent with serpentine flexibility. Just like snakes, they created power through twisting motions. But if that was the case... wouldn't the snake's spine twist with it?
Yes. Exactly like that.
Hiss...
Lorien drew a sharp breath in his heart.
Time passed—he didn't know how long. Eventually, feeling somewhat drained, he pushed open the door to a random bedroom and collapsed onto the bed for rest.
...
Meanwhile, deep within the universe—well, within the Solar System, on Cybertron.
After the Legion War, the Transformers civilization had taken little real damage. Though some casualties had occurred, their losses amounted to less than one-tenth of their total forces—hardly significant for a war of such scale.
By all standards, this was not just a victory, but an overwhelming triumph.
Yet, unlike most civilizations, Cybertron did not celebrate. Within a single day, the Transformers had replenished all losses and set both legions back to work as if nothing had happened.
This stunned the Collector. He questioned the Elders.
"Do the Transformers not need to celebrate? You've just defeated the mightiest legion in the universe!"
The Collector understood well.
The outcome of this battle would go down in the annals of every civilization in the cosmos. Forget music and dancing—even declaring it an Imperial Festival Day wouldn't be excessive.
But the Transformers' answer shocked him even more.
"Victory in war is merely one expression of a civilization's development."
"It is not worthy of celebration."
The meaning was clear. Exam results are only one inevitable outcome of diligent study.
For the rational Transformers, that alone did not warrant celebration.
To them, they were like prodigious scholars. Scores? Just icing on the cake. What truly deserved celebration were their technological breakthroughs, the growth of their legions, and the advancement of their civilization.
With those foundations, victory was inevitable. Without them, hoping for victory was nothing but a joke.
Even though he had mentally prepared himself, the Collector was still left shaken.
"A civilization with such a mindset—how could it possibly not be strong?"
A great reputation is never hollow. Strength like this isn't built from mud. It was precisely the rapid, tireless development of the Transformers civilization that forged such overwhelming power.
Even Thanos's legions had been crushed.
Of course, without Godzilla, their losses might have reached thirty to fifty percent. But now, only ten percent had been lost.
And the twenty percent spared? That was entirely thanks to Godzilla, who had charged headfirst into the enemy legions, drawing their fire alone.
It hadn't cowered behind its own army, hiding behind blasts of atomic breath. It had flown straight into enemy ranks, tearing through them wildly—spinning, leaping, unleashing atomic breath in every direction with eyes shut tight.
It was only because of Godzilla's reckless assault that the Transformers' casualties were cut down to the absolute minimum.
The Collector couldn't help but sigh in awe.
The Creator truly was divine. To casually toss down a "pet" that could roar its way through Thanos's forces...
And just then—
"Bzzzzz~~~"
A surge of purple energy rippled across the skies above Cybertron.
Though the source was far away, Cybertron still trembled from the impact.
Fortunately, the effect was minimal—only the equivalent of a magnitude 6 earthquake. For a steel world like Cybertron, this was nothing. Even a magnitude 12 quake wouldn't damage its surface structures.
Of course, unsecured facilities inside would be rattled.
But the real question was...
Could it be that the Elders' experiment had succeeded!?
The Collector and the Elders looked up.
Above Cybertron, a massive floating platform nearly ten thousand meters across hovered in the sky.
It had been built for one purpose.
To arm Godzilla.
After the last great war, the Elders finally understood just how terrifying Godzilla's strength was—and how limitless his potential could be. So, just as Lorien had suggested, they immediately set about preparing to upgrade him.
Under the light of the Creator, Godzilla and the Transformers were one and the same. Helping Godzilla was helping themselves.
Thus, a resolution was drafted and passed without a single objection:
[Forge Custom Equipment for Godzilla · 1000:0]
So what exactly was Godzilla being upgraded with now?
As the Collector gazed upward, the answer became clear.
Encircling Godzilla's neck was a colossal metallic necklace, nearly a thousand meters long and dozens of meters thick. Hanging from its base was a massive purple crystal.
Of course, Infinity Stones were never this large. The so-called crystal was in fact a special translucent purple alloy. The true Infinity Stone—a gem only a few centimeters in diameter—was embedded at its very core.
The Power Stone.
Then it was obvious. The Transformers civilization had forged equipment for Godzilla unlike anything seen before.
An Infinity Necklace.
The idea itself had been born jointly between the Collector and the Elders. After Thanos was blasted away by Godzilla's atomic breath, they had reviewed the battlefield footage from the thirty-plus Transformers stationed nearby. There they had witnessed the Infinity Gauntlet paired with the Stones.
Their conclusion was simple.
Not copy. Innovate.
And so Godzilla was given the Infinity Necklace, its core housing the Power Stone.
That earlier shockwave? It had been caused the moment the necklace activated.
Now, as the Collector stared upward, Godzilla's body was glowing with a fierce violet radiance. His eyes blazed with purple fire, and the blue glow of his dorsal fins shifted into a volatile mix of blue and violet, charging with energy.
"Beep—beep—beep—beep!"
"ROOOOAAAARRR!!!"
With a sky-shaking roar, Godzilla unleashed his power. The floating continent shuddered, sinking sharply under the sheer force. A torrent of atomic breath, wrapped in crackling thunder and violet lightning, blasted outward into the depths of space.
And the beam was massive.
Before, Godzilla's breath had been limited by the size of his jaws—only a few dozen meters in diameter. But now, after exiting his maw, the beam expanded instantly to over a hundred meters across before continuing its path.
His atomic breath was now far larger than his own head.
And this wasn't even Godzilla's "Super Saiyan" state.
If he activated that... the destructive power would be unimaginable.
Yet there was no worry about accuracy. Even at this scale, Godzilla could still lock onto moving targets with ease.
...
When at last the torrent faded, Godzilla lowered his head. His body still shimmered with a brilliant violet glow, arcs of purple lightning dancing across his hide.
The Collector glanced at the instruments.
[Energy Level: Off the charts.]
Godzilla's atomic breath had exceeded even the highest measurable threshold of Transformer technology. The system couldn't contain the reading—it had broken the scale.
"Too powerful..." the Collector whispered, utterly shaken.
And Godzilla himself stood there completely unharmed.
Which could only mean one thing.
Godzilla could wield the Infinity Stones.
And more than that—he could do it without injury, without depletion, without cost.
Then again, with a body like his, it made sense. The Power Stone demanded physical strength from its wielder. And Godzilla's physical strength was second to none.
It was a perfect match.
That single breath just now had already reached the threshold of Universal-level power.
If Godzilla grew more accustomed to it, practiced it, refined it—
A single atomic breath might one day be enough to annihilate the Celestials themselves.
Of course, for now it had to be kept a little restrained.
With the Infinity Necklace complete, Godzilla now wielded power close to Universal-level. At this moment, he was without question the strongest warrior of the Transformers civilization—second to none.
Even the Elders' Star-Destroyer Cannon, at best, only reached Skyfather-level—enough to wipe out planets. But if Godzilla unleashed his strength within the Solar System, the entire system wouldn't withstand it. A single blast of atomic breath could very well tear it apart.
Godzilla was now truly the number one weapon of the Transformers civilization.
...
Elsewhere in the vastness of space, the void began to tremble violently.
"Crack—!"
Like a mirror being shattered, a massive rift tore open in the fabric of space.
From within, countless creatures pushed and clawed to force their way through. They piled against each other, shoving, writhing—even bursting apart in the struggle to escape, yet still pouring out endlessly.
With a wet tearing sound, the first one broke free. Its form was monstrous, its aura radiating nothing but savagery.
The Annihilation Swarm.
As the first of the swarm burst into realspace, the rift to the Negative Zone grew wider. Soon a second emerged. Then a third.
And then, hundreds at once.
Thousands.
By the time a night had passed, an entire horde of the Annihilation Wave had forced its way through, the rift behind them now dozens of times its original size.
Then came something different. A swarm-beast clad in armor pushed its way out, and right behind it—
A purple-skinned tyrant.
Annihilus, the Swarm King, spread his wings and greedily inhaled the breath of the cosmos. His eyes gleamed with nothing but hunger and destruction as he gazed across the stars.
Beside him, Thanos's gaze swept the void, his mind filled with one thought: the return of a king.
After a pause, Annihilus turned to him.
"Tell me. Which are the strongest empires of this universe?"
Thanos glanced at the Infinity Gauntlet on his hand before answering.
"The Nova Empire. The Skrull Empire. The Kree Empire. The Transformers civilization."
Annihilus nodded.
"Which is the closest?"
...
Thanos narrowed his eyes, trying to pinpoint their location. Finally, he turned toward a particular sector.
"The nearest is the Xandar system. The Nova Empire."
At his words, Annihilus raised a clawed hand.
"Then you'll lead the way. We will slaughter every civilization, every life-bearing world in our path. None will be spared!"
Thanos frowned.
"Exterminate them all?"
"All of them!"
Thanos considered. Extermination had its merits. If no one was left to use the universe's resources, then surely Lady Death would smile on him even more.
He nodded.
As the swarm's warships emerged from the rift, Thanos lifted his hand and entered coordinates into the command system.
Their destination: extinction.
...
The next morning, when Lorien woke, he found himself holding two warm, soft bodies in his arms.
He looked down.
Wanda and Gwen.
"Hm?"
Hadn't they gone to sleep in another room?
Glancing around at the ceiling and the setting, Lorien realized.
Ah. He'd wandered into the wrong room last night.
Not entirely his fault. Lately, if his hands weren't filled with something soft and warm, he felt strangely empty.
A quick glance at the clock.
8:40 a.m.
Time to get up.
He slipped his hands free from the peach and grapefruit nestled against him, then rose, dressed, and washed up. He asked Aria to order breakfast, while he and Bella headed downstairs first.
In the office, Lorien reclined while Bella handed him milk tea. He drank deeply, then exhaled with satisfaction.
Today, however, Bella didn't immediately return to her usual position. Noticing how relaxed he seemed, she moved behind him instead. Her arms circled around the chair as her hands pressed gently into his trapezius, neck, and upper chest muscles.
"Ahh..."
Lorien let his muscles relax under her touch. If he didn't, even a slight flex of strength would make it impossible for her to press down.
And like this, it really was comfortable. Enough to make him sigh.
Then Bella leaned closer to his ear.
"Master, if last night was graded out of 100, how many points would Bella earn?"
Lorien raised a finger.
"One..."
Her voice dipped with disappointment.
His finger twitched, just slightly.
"Eleven?" she asked, a little more hopeful.
Then his finger shifted again.
Bella's hands didn't stop their work, but she froze for a moment, her voice almost trembling with surprise.
"One hundred and eleven?"
"Mm." Lorien made a nasal sound of affirmation and nodded.
Bella tilted her head in confusion.
"But... if the full score is 100, how could Bella get 111? Is that a bug?"
Lorien dropped his hand, closed his eyes, and leaned back against the cushion.
"Too lazy to explain."
The meaning was simple. He could've used his hand to make a circle for zero, but showing 111 was easier.
Bella's face stayed calm, but inside she felt both helpless and happy.
Because this was her Master.
And she loved him for it.