"So what you're saying is… that Daoist handed the stolen fragment to the Decepticons?"
"If not that, I can't think of any other way Megatron could've been revived."
As Ironhide and Seymour Simmons exchanged words, Colonel William Lennox clenched his fists.
"Why?"
"He's human. A human! If this is some kind of Earth-based secret organization, why would they help the Decepticons?"
"Maybe it wasn't help… but a transaction."
Optimus Prime slowly rose to his full height.
"Some ancient organizations on Earth may understand Cybertron's history better than we assume."
He turned toward Simmons.
"Advisor… how does your nation intend to respond to a threat like this?"
Simmons let out a bitter laugh and adjusted his tie.
"The White House has already convened an emergency national security meeting."
"We're preparing to issue the strongest possible condemnation."
"We'll formally question the Eastern nation—why they allowed such a superhuman force to operate across borders, and demand they hand over those responsible."
Lennox looked up in disbelief.
"That's it?"
"A condemnation?"
"After what we just saw? That man wiped out an entire base!"
"That's standard diplomatic procedure," Simmons replied, his tone edged with helplessness.
"We'll release the surveillance footage at the United Nations."
"Let the world witness this… invasion."
"So…" Robert Epps couldn't help but interject.
"That country actually has superhumans?"
"Highly unlikely."
Simmons shook his head.
"If they did, the CIA wouldn't be completely in the dark."
"The U.S. maintains a global intelligence network. Over the past thirty years, there hasn't been a single verified instance of real supernatural activity."
"Just charlatans and folklore."
"So we're dealing with an organization outside modern nation-states?" Lennox muttered.
"That's the most probable scenario."
Simmons frowned slightly, clearly displeased.
"But why use symbols from that country?"
"Why not something representing freedom… something global?"
To him, it didn't make sense.
The United States was the world's most powerful nation—
The so-called beacon of civilization.
Race didn't matter.
Power did.
Wasn't that proven already?
Optimus Prime ignored the tangent.
His focus remained on what truly mattered.
"A group that has remained hidden for so long…"
"Why reveal itself now?"
"And why align with an invading alien force?"
"Do they not fear the consequences?"
"That," Simmons said slowly, "is the most unsettling part."
"They've stayed in the shadows for decades… and now they openly display their power."
"Something must have changed."
"Or maybe they're just tired of hiding," Ironhide snorted.
"That's also possible," Simmons admitted.
"With modern surveillance, it's becoming harder for any ancient group to remain hidden."
"There have been precedents."
He paused.
"Back in the early 1990s, a group codenamed 'Temple' was exposed due to a satellite communication error."
"They were infiltrated… and dismantled."
But—
That example brought no comfort.
Only a deeper chill.
Because that "Temple" organization—
Was still human.
Their methods—
Advanced, yes—
But understandable.
What they had just seen?
Was something else entirely.
"Then why reveal themselves like this?" Lennox pressed.
"Demonstrating power… and collaborating with Decepticons…"
"That makes them enemies of the entire world."
"Not necessarily," Optimus replied.
"If they intend to step into the light…"
"They must first prove their strength."
"Their deal with the Decepticons…"
"May be a declaration."
"That they possess the power to stand alongside extraterrestrial forces."
Epps let out a low whistle.
"So it's a show of dominance?"
"Using our soldiers' blood—and a resurrected Decepticon leader—to announce their arrival?"
Silence fell across the room.
Because if that was true—
Then their ambition…
Went far beyond anything they had imagined.
This wasn't just about stepping into the open.
This was about redefining the world—
From a position of absolute power.
...
The next morning—
A video exploded across the global internet.
Within minutes—
It was everywhere.
The footage clearly showed the Daoist—
Walking calmly through gunfire.
Cutting through soldiers with impossible precision.
Breaking through a fortified military base as if it were nothing.
Bullets passing through his body.
The alloy door splitting apart.
Every moment—
Captured.
Unfiltered.
"Impossible…"
Simmons stared at the screens in his office.
Every news channel—
Looping the same footage.
On one channel, a well-known anchor spoke with visible agitation:
"If this footage is real…"
"Then modern military systems are utterly ineffective against such forces."
"We must rethink national defense entirely."
The door burst open.
Lennox entered, face grim.
"The video spread across every social platform in under ten minutes."
"There's definitely someone pushing it from behind."
"What's the Pentagon saying?"
"Caught completely off guard."
"It dropped during peak morning hours on the East Coast."
"By the time they reacted—it had already gone global."
Lennox clenched his jaw.
"Worse—extremist groups are sharing it like wildfire."
"Some are worshipping this power."
"They're calling them… gods."
BANG—
Simmons slammed his fist onto the desk.
The coffee cup rattled.
"Damn it!"
"That's exactly what they want."
"Fear… and followers."
"We can't wait any longer."
Lennox stepped forward, hands braced on the table.
"What's your move?"
"Contact every expert on Eastern mysticism immediately."
Simmons turned sharply to his assistant.
"Harrison."
"I want a full expert team assembled within 24 hours."
Mark Harrison was already typing.
"Stanford's East Asian cultural research group?"
"Harvard's comparative religion specialists?"
"All of them."
Simmons' voice was absolute.
"Their methods clearly originate from that cultural sphere."
"Which means…"
"The solution might lie there too."
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