Martin stood tall in his grand hall, muttering to himself: "Begin this week's draw. Let's go with a triple pull."
Countless light-screens flared to life; it was that time again, when luck decided fate.
Ding!
[Congratulations, Host. You have drawn 100,000 tons of Refined Cyber-Metal!]
Ding!
[Congratulations, Host. You have drawn a special structure: Iron Fortress Archives!]
The Iron Fortress Archives, Cybertron's most secure data repository. Heavily fortified and sealed within it were countless hidden records and powerful relics.
Now, Martin had drawn this structure for himself, an unexpected windfall.
Ding!
[Congratulations, Host. You have drawn the Cosmic Hunter: Lockdown]
Martin's eyes lit up.
Lockdown.
In the Transformers live-action universe, Lockdown was one of Quintessa's elite enforcers. A top-tier interstellar assassin tasked with hunting down rogue Transformers across the cosmos. A true Cosmic Hunter.
Before he could examine further, the doors creaked open. Optimus Prime entered with his heavy, resolute stride.
"Well done, Optimus," Martin said, accepting the radiant semi-solid mass from Prime's hands with a nod of approval.
Optimus spoke calmly. "Ego was weaker than I anticipated."
Martin glanced down at the glowing form and chuckled. "You're mistaken. What you killed wasn't his true self. Ego is one of the ancient Celestials, he'd never be foolish enough to walk into my domain unguarded. Even Surtur would have a hard time dealing with a being like him."
"And that living planet earlier...?" Optimus asked.
"A powerful avatar, no doubt," Martin replied. "Ego evolves by consuming worlds. He started as little more than an asteroid and grew into a godlike being, he's bound to have plenty of fallback plans. But enough about him. Optimus, you're dismissed. I have matters to attend to."
Optimus bowed slightly, then turned and exited.
Outside, Megatron stood waiting, arms crossed, a sneer etched into his crimson optics.
"You've surprised us all, Prime... heh heh heh," Megatron sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
Optimus unslung his massive blade and dropped it to the ground with a loud thud. His voice was cool and dry: "If you can lift it, Megatron, then you're welcome to go gods-hunting. Otherwise, shut up."
"…Excellent," Megatron growled. "Now that's the rival I remember. I'll find a way to surpass you. Just you wait."
He turned on his heel and stalked off, face twitching with frustration.
Tch. That mangy Prime was always trying to trick him into lifting that sword. As if.
But Megatron felt confident, he knew there was no way in the Pit he'd ever lift that cursed weapon.
Martin, meanwhile, paid the whole exchange no mind. Optimus and Megatron's rivalries were an old song, they'd clash again soon enough.
He turned back to the glowing mass. "Let's talk, Ego. What made you so eager to die on my doorstep?"
Martin tossed the glowing form onto his desk and reclined in his chair, fingers interlaced, completely at ease.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then, the radiant form pulsed, an imposing consciousness emanated from within.
"I came for you," Ego's voice echoed coldly. "Your existence threatens the balance of the cosmos. As a Celestial, I have a duty to evaluate and, if necessary, eliminate anomalies."
Martin laughed. "Don't make me laugh. Among the Celestials, you're nothing special. Just the Elders of the Universe alone, there are fifteen of them, could match your strength. Add in the scattered pantheons, and across the stars, you're barely even a footnote."
"And that's not counting the five Cosmic Abstracts," he continued, voice sharpening. "Or whether this universe contains an avatar of the Living Tribunal."
"You?" Martin sneered. "You're just noise. I could crush three of you without breaking a sweat."
Crack!
Martin snapped his fingers, grasping the glowing mass in a crushing grip.
"Tell me your real motive," he said, voice frigid. "Then I'll decide how you die."
The glow flickered, Ego's tone sharpening. "Martin, your arrogance knows no bounds. You hail from a lowly world. You have no idea how vast and terrifying this universe truly is. Your pride will be your downfall."
"I may not be the strongest among the Celestials," he added, "but I understand this cosmos far better than you ever will. I know fear. I know reverence."
Martin glared down at the shimmering orb, tightening his grip until it looked like he might crush it entirely, then, suddenly, he let go.
"…You came for Quill," he said quietly. "You couldn't bear to let your precious son fall into my hands."
Ego said nothing.
"Starscream," Martin called.
The door slammed open. Starscream strutted in, tossing a bruised and dusty Peter Quill onto the floor like a ragdoll. His face twisted into a mocking grin as he turned toward the glowing mass.
"Your son's in my hands, Celestial."
Martin raised a finger, and with a burst of telekinetic force, Quill was yanked toward him. Martin seized his throat, pressure rising.
"Stop! You bastard! You win!" Ego howled. "Let him go! He's my offspring! How... how did you know?! I never told anyone!"
Quill froze, staring at the glowing orb in disbelief.
This... thing... was his father?!
"Quill," Martin said calmly. "Your father murdered your mother. And you? You were never his legacy. You were a spare battery. A living supplement to his power."
"If he consumed you, he might finally transcend, becoming a truly singular cosmic entity."
Martin's voice turned low and malicious, as he peeled back Ego's schemes in front of them both. He watched as realization and horror dawned across their faces, father and son, trapped in the same sick joke.
CRACK!
With a sudden jerk, Martin crushed the glowing orb in his palm. Ego's will, his consciousness, was annihilated in a shriek of fury and disbelief.
Quill collapsed to the ground, dazed, mind spinning. "You're saying that... thing… was my dad? And he killed my mom?"
"No need to take my word for it," Martin said, stepping forward. "You can look into it yourself. But I don't lie, especially not about this."
"In fact," he added, "I have something important I need you to do…"
He reached out and placed a hand on Quill's head.
The Mind Stone flared.
Golden light surged forth, rewriting Peter's thoughts and will in a blink.
When it faded, Quill stood upright.
He bowed deeply, eyes burning with fervor.
"Honored Lord Martin," he said reverently, "Star-Lord of the Ravagers is at your service."
Martin smiled, satisfied.
"Good. Quill, I need you to acquire something for me, the Orb of Power. I don't care how you do it. Recruit allies, steal it, con someone, just get it. And if you're in trouble, call me."
"As you command, O Divine One."
Quill bowed once more.
----
TN: Iron Fortress Archives is just Archives in fandom, or Cybertron Archives.
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