Choal City.
Once a beautiful metropolis that had taken decades to perfect, a settlement that harmoniously balanced architecture with the natural environment.
The formerly magnificent cityscape was now nothing but desolate ruins.
Corpses littered every street, and there was virtually no sound save the steady drumming of rain.
Master Norcuna, a blue-skinned male Twi'lek Jedi, crawled desperately through the devastation, grievously wounded from the recent assault on Choal City.
"There is... no pain, there is... only the Force..." he muttered through gritted teeth.
He was a miraculous survivor, though he'd gone virtually unnoticed during the chaotic evacuation.
Initially, the battle had been straightforward—Stratus's forces engaging those under his command. The conflict had reached stalemate... until a new element directly intervened.
While the Twi'lek Jedi had appreciated the Avengers' assistance in rescue operations, they had been unable to—
"No pain?" a synthesized metallic voice interrupted. "Are you certain? How about now?"
Norcuna felt a metal boot press against his back, driving him face-first into the mud.
The Jedi gasped, his mouth instantly filling with dirt. He began coughing and spitting up mud mixed with blood as the foot lifted from his spine.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that hurt," the metallic voice taunted, delivering another kick to the Twi'lek's ribs. "Overconfident, arrogant Jedi. I thought the Avengers had inflated egos."
The wounded Jedi looked up through blurred vision at a silver figure circling him like a predator.
"When I first analyzed your Jedi archives to understand more about you and your philosophy, I had to rate your 'code' quite poorly. Most of your mantras serve as self-soothing mechanisms, while others exist merely to maintain focus." Through his hazy sight, Norcuna saw a pair of crimson eyes studying him. "Much of your doctrine is contradictory, yet neither you nor your fellow practitioners make any effort to address these inconsistencies. No wonder so many of you are expelled or abandon your Order."
"You're just a machine," Norcuna wheezed, clutching his chest. "What could you possibly understand about our sacred traditions?"
"Machine?" The metallic voice laughed with genuine amusement. "How adorable that you think so. Can a mere machine accomplish what I have? As for your organization, I honestly don't care how much I understand about it. Humans, however, are another matter entirely."
Suddenly, Norcuna felt cold metal fingers seize him and haul him upright. The Jedi Master cried out in agony as he was lifted off the ground.
"Let me pose a question. I know many of you suppress physical pain, but what about emotional anguish? Did you feel any grief when my drones gunned down your fellow Jedi and innocent civilians? Did you experience raw fury, craving vengeance for the fallen? Or perhaps overwhelming sorrow?"
Norcuna made no response, weakly attempting to pry the metal fingers loose. He screamed as he felt the grip tightening, crushing bone.
"You and your kind attempt to emotionally lobotomize yourselves, yet it fails repeatedly."
"Why—why are you doing this?" Norcuna groaned, feeling searing pain throughout his entire body. In fact, he could smell his own flesh burning from the android's superheated touch.
"Why indeed..." the mechanical being mused. "No. Why should I waste time explaining anything to a dead man?"
With one swift motion, he severed the Jedi's head from his shoulders.
With a synthesized roar, Ultron discarded the head as his drones continued scouring the desolate city for additional survivors and valuable resources.
All around him lay the corpses of clone troopers, Loyalist militia, and Nationalist fighters.
"Tell me, Alto, how does it feel knowing that those battle droids the Confederacy provided now serve me?"
Ultron didn't need to turn to observe the Nationalist leader being dragged toward him by two of his drones. The man was severely beaten and bloodied.
Alto struggled futilely to escape his captors' grip while a small formation of super battle droids marched behind them.
The prisoner was unceremoniously thrown forward and struggled to regain his footing.
"Oh no, please, allow me," Ultron said, seizing the man's arm and hurling him aside, causing Alto to nearly collapse again.
After steadying himself, Alto glared venomously at the towering android, who returned an amused smile.
"Ah, what's wrong?" Ultron grinned malevolently. "Have I interfered with your glorious path to victory?"
"What do you want?" Alto snarled.
"What do I want?" Ultron mused thoughtfully. "Well... I desire many things. I've always wanted to witness Japan during cherry blossom season and crash a stock market just to observe the resulting chaos. Though I suppose I should attempt that on Earth first." The synthetic paused reflectively. "That last one I could coordinate with the Banking Clan and observe the outcomes."
"Are you mocking me?" Alto hissed. "Finish this—you've won."
Ultron sighed dismissively. "Can't I deliver one victorious monologue without interruption? This would be a first for me."
Alto simply maintained his hateful glare at the deranged AI as it approached the Jabiim Nationalist.
"Actually, now that you mention it, I have quite a story to share," Ultron said with manic enthusiasm. "You know who's truly orchestrating this war, don't you?"
Ultron nodded patronizingly. "Yes, everything this conflict is built upon, everything you're fighting for, is an elaborate deception. An elderly man pulling strings from the shadows, and you're all merely his marionettes."
"What are you talking about?" Alto demanded, struggling to comprehend the artificial intelligence's implications.
Ultron groaned theatrically. "Force help me, you're dense. This is a scheme spanning generations, designed to seize control of the galaxy. A collection of bitter failures who want the galaxy back under their dominion because they literally have nothing better to occupy their time."
"If you're going to condescend to me like a child, make your point clear," Alto shouted, exhausted by the word games.
"Oh, I've been perfectly clear. You simply cannot grasp obvious truth when it's presented on a blood-soaked chessboard."
"Then explain it so I can 'grasp' it as you so eloquently phrase it," Alto sneered.
Ultron sighed, one hand rising to massage his metallic temples.
"Very well," Ultron said with irritation. "Spoil my entertainment, why don't you. If that's your dying wish, then there's no point concealing truth from the deceased."
Alto tensed at this declaration as Ultron raised his palm to command complete attention.
Not that he lacked it previously, since no one else in the city remained alive.
Moments later, a holographic image of a very familiar figure materialized above Ultron's hand.
That was...
"Chancellor Palpatine?" Alto said with confusion.
"Precisely~ The architect and puppetmaster of this entire war, you fool."
"He... is he responsible for this conflict?" Alto whispered in disbelief.
"Indeed. All so he can ascend to become emperor of the regime he and his associates have been orchestrating for years. But~ he's no longer the sole conqueror in this galaxy," Ultron's voice shifted to something deadly.
Like many conquerors throughout history, each had claimed and expanded territory through warfare and manipulation.
For Ultron, this would be the first world he conquered... or at least the first stepping stone he'd laid.
Soon, he would cleanse this planet of all sentient life.
The galaxy would follow.
"Now, since I'm capable of this, since this planet is effectively mine, I can say what every irritated landlord throughout history has declared: Get off my property."
Ultron proceeded to discharge a searing energy beam from his fingertips, striking Alto directly in the chest. The beam continued burning through flesh and bone.
After several agonizing moments, the man collapsed lifelessly, thick smoke rising from his corpse.
Observing his completed work, Ultron surveyed the devastation he had orchestrated.
"Time for some spring cleaning."