"Where are they taking us?" Sam asked in a low voice.
"To a secure location," the agent in the front seat replied without turning around. "Once we reach the base, specialists will examine that mark on you."
At the same time—
Inside the lead vehicle, Seymour Simmons was already on encrypted comms with headquarters.
"Prepare a Level-1 briefing room. We need immediate analysis on all samples recovered tonight. Also, pull up the 'Daoist' file—Optimus needs full access."
...
Several hours later.
In a subterranean military facility—
Inside a high-tech briefing room—
Optimus Prime, Ironhide, Ratchet, and Colonel William Lennox stood assembled.
Simmons stood at the central console, his expression grave.
"Ladies and gentlemen, what you're about to see is classified at the highest level…"
He paused, then shrugged.
"Well… not anymore after tonight."
"Let's just play it."
His fingers moved quickly across the controls.
"This is surveillance footage from a military installation—recorded 24 hours ago. Location undisclosed."
The lights dimmed.
The central screen lit up.
A heavily fortified military base appeared.
Steel corridors gleamed under sterile white lighting.
Reinforced blast doors stood sealed.
Then—
Without warning—
A top-level intrusion alarm screamed to life.
Red emergency lights flooded every corner like spilled blood.
Soldiers snapped into formation instantly.
Weapons raised.
All aimed at the far end of the corridor.
There—
A lone figure approached.
Unhurried.
Unstoppable.
He wore a black Daoist robe, its sleeves swaying faintly in the air disturbed by the alarms.
Completely out of place in the cold metallic environment.
His expression—
Calm.
Detached.
On his back—
A massive scroll nearly his own height.
In his hand—
A drawn Tang blade.
Straight.
Cold.
Reflecting a razor-sharp gleam.
And his eyes—
A chilling crimson.
Three tomoe spinning slowly within.
"Stop! Surrender immediately!"
A soldier's amplified shout echoed.
The response—
Silence.
And steady footsteps.
"Open fire!"
Gunfire erupted.
A storm of bullets filled the corridor.
The figure was swallowed whole by the barrage.
And then—
The impossible happened.
No blood.
No impact.
The bullets passed straight through him—
Like ripples through water—
Striking the wall behind, leaving a brutal pattern of craters.
He kept walking.
Through gunfire.
Unhindered.
As if existing on a separate layer of reality.
"Th—They passed through?!"
"Monster!"
The screams had barely begun—
Before he moved.
Like a phantom.
The Tang blade flashed—
A cold arc of light.
The first soldier's throat split open.
Blood sprayed across the black robe—
Dark stains spreading.
No pause.
No hesitation.
Each swing of the blade—
Precise.
Efficient.
Lethal.
Bodies fell.
Blood rained.
Within seconds—
The defensive formation collapsed.
Chaos.
Death.
Silence.
Then—
More systems activated.
Automated defenses roared to life.
Through the smoke—
His figure flickered.
At times—
Solid.
Blade slicing through gun barrels—
Even cutting down soldiers behind them with invisible force.
At times—
Intangible.
Missiles passed harmlessly through—
Only to detonate behind him—
Triggering chain explosions.
Reality and illusion—
Seamlessly intertwined.
His crimson eyes—
Cold.
Reflecting destruction without emotion.
Less than three minutes.
Every automated defense point—
Silenced.
Every position—
Covered in corpses.
The air—
Thick with blood.
He walked forward—
Through a river of death.
The remaining soldiers retreated in terror.
Gunfire—
Useless.
One man tried to flee—
A solid figure appeared before him—
Blade pierced his heart.
Another rushed forward—
His arm severed instantly—
Followed by a finishing strike.
Finally—
He stood before the last barrier.
A massive alloy door.
Meters thick.
Behind it—
The objective.
The AllSpark fragment.
BOOOOOOM—
The metal groaned in protest.
A thin glowing line appeared down the center—
Stretching from top to bottom—
Like molten lava cutting through.
Then—
The entire door split apart.
Forced open by invisible force.
Metal twisted.
Collapsed inward.
Fragments flew—
Crashing violently into the storage chamber.
Red lights flickered madly.
Through the breach—
The Daoist stood.
Blade in hand.
Pristine.
Untouched.
As if it had never cut anything at all.
He stepped forward—
Across still-glowing debris.
Inside—
A small, irregular metallic fragment floated above a simple stone pedestal.
The AllSpark fragment.
And yet—
Unlike the massacre outside—
This moment—
Was almost… quiet.
He took it.
Placed it into his sleeve.
Turned.
And left.
The same way he came.
Through the broken gate.
Across the corpses.
Into the smoke-filled corridor.
Until—
His figure vanished into darkness.
Behind him—
A scene of hell.
And alarms that screamed like a funeral dirge.
From beginning to end—
Effortless.
Terrifyingly so.
...
"My—fuck… is that even human?"
Robert Epps blurted out, unable to hold back.
The room fell into silence.
Only heavy breathing remained.
Even Lennox—
A seasoned soldier—
Looked shaken.
His hand unconsciously moved toward his sidearm—
As if trying to judge whether it meant anything against that… thing.
"So this guy… is connected to the one who attacked Sam tonight?"
Optimus Prime finally spoke.
His voice low.
Heavy.
Carrying a trace of unease.
"Most likely," Simmons replied.
"The 'Daoist' wears traditional robes. The attacker used techniques resembling Eastern occult arts—parasites, paper constructs."
"No connection?"
"No one would believe that."
He tapped the console again.
"More importantly…"
The screen changed.
A massive mechanical body burst out of the ocean—
Transforming mid-air—
Shifting into a spiked, menacing jet.
A deafening sonic boom followed.
The aircraft tore through the clouds—
Vanishing into the sky.
Megatron.
"Megatron has been revived."
"Five hours after the fragment was stolen."
Simmons' voice dropped.
"That's not a coincidence."