Chapter 13: The Widow's Wrath and the Titan's Forge
"My Lord, Agent Romanoff is approaching the island's airspace in a S.H.I.E.L.D. quinjet," Optimus Prime's voice intoned, calm and factual within the lab.
"Scramble a suit. Intercept her over international waters. Disable the aircraft," Talon ordered without looking up from the intricate circuit board he was soldering. He had no time for distractions, and a woman like Natasha Romanoff was a distraction wrapped in a beautiful, dangerous enigma. He couldn't afford her brand of complexity.
The command was given.
Minutes later, his satellite phone vibrated. He knew who it was without looking. He answered, preempting her. "I'm busy. Don't bother me." He ended the call before she could utter a word.
It rang again immediately.
"Optimus Prime, block her number," Talon commanded, his focus absolute.
"Complying."
The phone fell silent.
Bobbing in the cold, choppy water, Natasha Romanoff was a sodden, furious mess. Her quinjet was a smoldering wreck sinking into the depths behind her. She clutched her phone, shouting at the unresponsive sea. "Talon, you bastard! You will die a miserable death!"
The sheer, unmitigated gall of the man! First, he'd cheated her, giving her a hollow prize. Now, he'd had her shot out of the sky without so much as a warning. The suit had appeared the moment she crossed into the island's airspace, weapons blazing. Only her enhanced reflexes and a well-timed ejection had saved her.
The final insult was the call. He had dismissed her like a buzzing insect.
She tried to call again. This time, a different, synthesized voice answered. "Miss Romanoff. The Lord is occupied. Your communications have been blocked. Please refrain from further attempts."
"Refrain this!" she screamed, hurling her phone onto the nearby beach in a fit of pure, unadulterated rage. A wave chose that moment to rush in, snatching the device and pulling it out to sea.
She was alone, soaking wet, on a deserted stretch of coast. The humiliation was a physical ache. For years, she had wielded her charm and skill as weapons, making men and nations bend to her will. Talon Reeve had not just resisted; he had actively, violently repelled her. The carefully constructed armor of the Black Widow cracked, and for the first time in a long time, hot, frustrated tears mixed with the saltwater on her cheeks.
One Day Later - The Underground Laboratory
Talon stood before a massive, intricately woven device of copper coils and crystalline housings—his cold fusion reactor. It was a monstrous evolution of Stark's arc reactor technology, promising energy output a thousand times greater. The potential for catastrophic failure was equally immense.
"I hope the math was right," he muttered, eyeing the core chamber.
The key was a thumb-sized, obsidian-like pellet—an artificial element of his own design, theoretically stable and impossibly dense. To test its inert state, he placed it on a steel table and, against every instinct, struck it with a heavy hammer.
CLANG.
The sound echoed in the silent lab. The element was unscathed. His heart, which had hammered against his ribs, slowly calmed.
"Such a small piece," he marveled, picking it up. "And it holds the power of a sun. A hundred times the yield of weapons-grade plutonium."
"My Lord, it is time to initiate the reaction sequence," Optimus Prime prompted.
Talon donned a pair of heavily tinted protective goggles. He carefully placed the element into the shielded core chamber and sealed it.
"Engaging reactor."
He pressed the ignition switch.
A light, fierce and emerald green, bloomed within the chamber, so bright it was visible even through the dark lenses.
"Optimus Prime, monitor all readings. Shut it down at the first sign of instability."
"Acknowledged."
"The element is undergoing a rapid radiative chemical process, altering its atomic structure... Introducing neutron flux... Commencing electromagnetic distillation to remove protons. Radioactive energy levels are climbing exponentially."
"Calculate total energy output," Talon commanded, his voice tight.
"Calculating... Energy levels have surpassed the yield of a Sidewinder missile. Sufficient to vaporize a main battle tank."
Talon allowed himself a small, tight smile.
"Energy levels continuing to climb. Equivalent to a tactical cruise missile. Capable of leveling a city block."
"Stability?"
"Systems remain nominal, My Lord."
"Energy levels now equivalent to a SCUD missile warhead. Potential blast radius encompasses several city districts."
The numbers kept climbing. Talon's breath hitched. He was no longer building a power source; he was bottling an apocalypse.
"Energy levels have reached low-yield thermonuclear capacity. Blast radius would encompass a major metropolitan area."
A cold sweat broke out on Talon's brow. He was standing next to a man-made star.
"Energy levels have stabilized. Output is equivalent to two high-yield strategic nuclear warheads. Stability remains at 99.8%. The reactor is viable for Transformer application."
Talon let out a long, slow breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Excellent."
He powered down the reactor and retrieved the now-dormant element. He then walked to the massive, dormant form of the heavy truck that was the Transformer's alternate mode. Entering the cab, he pressed a red button. A smaller version of the reactor housing rose from the console. He placed the element inside and pressed the button again. The housing retracted, merging with the truck's core frame.
A deep, resonant hum filled the lab, a sound of raw, barely contained power. It was the heartbeat of a new god of war.
"All systems optimal, My Lord," Optimus Prime reported, its voice now emanating from the truck's internal speakers.
"Open the roof."
Above them, the reinforced ceiling of the lab began to retract, revealing a square of blue sky.
"Optimus Prime," Talon commanded, a thrill of ultimate power coursing through him. "Transform."
CLANK-CLANK-SHUNK-GRIND.
The sound was deafening. The heavy truck erupted into a symphony of shifting parts, pistons firing, and hydraulics hissing. In less than ten seconds, where the truck had stood was a towering, 8.5-meter-tall robot of polished steel and menace, its optical sensors glowing with a cool blue light. It was majestic, powerful, and utterly terrifying.
Talon was encased within the chest cockpit, his neural link synced perfectly with the Titan of steel. He was no longer just a man. He was the pilot of a demigod.
With a thought, he commanded the thrusters in the feet to ignite. A torrent of blue energy erupted, and the massive Transformer lifted from the lab floor, rising through the open roof and into the sky. He had his body. Optimus Prime had its soul. Together, they were unstoppable. The game had just changed forever.