Somewhere spinning lazily in the vastness of space was a planet of wonders known as Cybertron. The exact date was unknown, as the inhabitance had not only Transwarp technology that allowed them to travel through time as well as space, but also unfortnately had suffered some global mishaps, the side effects of which included a complete wipe of historical records.

More than that, the local inhabitance of the planet Cybertron, known to most as The Transformers, had unfortunately lost all direct ties with that unknown history. They were fortunate however, to find that their historical records had been kept near perfectly on the nearby, in galactic terms, planet Earth. Which, probably due to time travel instances, only seemed to be in the late 21st century.

Much time had passed since the Great Reformatting. Organic and technological materials had merged seemlessly, and with a wellspring of Sparks released from the Matrix repopulating the planet once more. Eagerly the adaptive Transformers had adopted the cultures of the local alien lifeforms, modifying their bodies as Transformers have always been capable of, into forms that would be farmilar to these aliens. Ever impressionable, the Transformers hungrily absorbed the cultures of these aliens, replacing what they had lost during what they came to call The Spark Wars.

If this strains crediblity for you, remember that all things are possible in an infinet multiverse, and it's best if you don't think about Transmetal Megatron and Britney Spears putting leiderhosen on Jim Carrey.

Thus, we open on the following scene. A grand elevated roadway snaking it's way through the towering structures of the Cybertronian city-state of New Kalis, and a small black stealth hovercraft drifted along the road way. It moved at an impressive speed compared to the pedestrians that it passed, several of them having taken on android bodies to appear human, or whatever alien species they fancied enough to construct a whole second body to inhabit. But compared to other vehicles on the roadway, this black hovercraft was only shuffling along.

She was in no hurry after all. What was the point? She was just heading home after a long day at work. It was all meaningless. She'd have to go back to work the next day, and the day after that, and even if she simply did what she wanted it really didn't matter. She was one loan figure in the sea of stagnation and slow enthropic spiral.

The hovercraft, painted with just enough dark blue and golden highlights that the idiots would stop saying she was a stealth craft simply because she liked that she could paint herself toward a semblance of the blackness within her spirit, turned into a building. She pulled up and parked, initiating her transformation sequence. She pulled herself to her feet, the skirting of her hovercraft becomming large lobster clawed arms. She checked her iPod, or a reasonably similar technology, and saw her Evanscence playmix would last a few more songs.

"Hi Dirge!" It was a friendly almost motherly if it hadn't been so young sounding voice trying to invade on her darkly contemplative mood. She glanced towards it, already knowing the source. "Just on my way out to pick up the kids at scoccer practice." They wern't really her kids. Infact it was questionable if they were actually kids, but it was emblematic of her personality that she'd do something like this. "Hey, some guys and I are going out to Club Hyperfax later. You want to come along? DJ Flywheels and his crew are bringing the mix."

"I really don't care for the Club." Dirge grumbled.

"Aw, you always stay in your dark room anyway, at least this'll be a bigger dark room, with lights and cute mechs who'll buy you drinks."

"Nobody ever buys me drinks Volks." Dirge replied.

"Sure they will. I'll even buy you one. Come on, it'll be fun!"

'I don't do fun' was Dirges intended reply, but somehow it came out, "I guess."

"Cool." Volks collapsed down, converting to a friendly looking SUV and starting to pull out onto the skyway. "You won't regret this."

"I regret everything." Dirge intoned. "My life is nothing but regrets flowing smoothly together until they have become a single dark whole..." She realised she was talking to an empty room. Volks had already driven away. With a sigh Dirge headed towards her apartment.

Dirge's appartment was... well it was dark. She'd modified the light source to suit her need, and there were no windows. The walls were strung with posters of various meanings, all of them looking somewhat morbid.

A heavily scanned copy of the Necrotelicomnicon sat. She'd read through it a dozen times and had tried everything she could think of to unlock the occult secrets hidden within. It couldn't be purely fiction after all, that was just there to keep the mundanes from fearing it, by wrapping the higher meaning in fictional nonsense. Who ever heard of summoning a neuralger anyway? Then again, according to the website off of which Dirge downloaded her copy of the Liber Paginarum Fulvarum most who summon neuralger do so by mistake. A neuralger is a female demon which comes to men in their dreams and has a headache. Apparently they're 1-900 number in the Necrotelicomnicon is only one digit different from the succubus. Not that EITHER number was actually listed!

Dirge tossed her copy off her chair and sat down, wondering how she could get out of going to Club Hyperfax. The whole place was an annoyance, the clubs theme was painfully primative simulations. They'd probably have blinking backdrops of Pac-Man or Q-bert. Well, Pac-Man wasn't so bad... being trapped in an endless maze of darkness while devouring your only lightsource while trying to evade a crushing eventual demise, Dirge could get behind that. The rest were a bit to upbeat for her taste.

After several moments thinking on the subject however, and at least one more song on her iPod running through, she finally gave up and decided to be miserable either way. She opened the curtains over her little shrine and knelt in worship. The shrines little screen blinked on, displaying her homepage, and from there she followed various links. Her IM display popped up... nobody worth talking to was readily availible... and it was ignored.

Soon Dirge found herself distracted by reading various files until Volks was knocking on her door.

Volks actually bought Dirge five drinks, and would have bought her more if Dirge hadn't taken to staring into her cube morosely as she listened to the grinding repeditive funeral procession of technologies that were outdated by human standards even before they had made contact with Cybertronians.

Actually, at about the fourth drink she started to wonder exactly how humans had managed to flawlessly record the history of Cybertron in their fiction, when the fiction had some contradictions within itself... Only it wasn't fiction. It was like the Necrotele-something or other, it was real. It had to be. All those fiddly bits where it didn't match up could be explained away and were there to protect people from the truth. Because people were like that. They didn't want to accept the crushing darkness that would eventually swallow them, the utter meaninglessnessishly of their lives crushed their spirit and will to live.

"Dirge, are you drunk."

"No." Dirge looked up at Volks who was either swaying unsteadily in a poor attempt at dancing, or in inibriation of her own.

"Look, I wanted you to get out, have some fun. You're always alone and..."

Dirge tuned out Volks and started listening to the next table over. "So in the final pannel Riff says 'That's it! Spam Satan!'" Laughter of about three people, followed by a second voice. "That Pete Abrams... genius..."

Some little bit of inspiration clicked in the back of Dirges mind. She turned back to Volks who was still talking.

"... and that's why I wanted you to have a few drinks. Maybe you'd loosen up a bit, but you're just sitting here getting more depressed..."

"Volks. I'm going home now." Dirge stated simply.

"But we haven't danced with anyone yet." Volks protested.

"No one's asked me to."

"What about that guy with the eight wheels?" Volks asked. Oh, right. Him. Presumptious jerk looking for a cheap date, figured she'd be an easy mark since she was sitting here alone. Idiot wasn't worth her time. Though that did bring up the number of drinks she'd consumed over the night. She'd finally told him to go stuff his head in a trash compactor. Or something. Couldn't remember. It'd worked whatever it was.

"Ugh." Dirge managed. "No."

"Okay, he didn't look that good to me either, but you're sitting here in a dark corner alone, it's not like very many people can even see you here."

"Anyone I'd have something in common with would look in the dark corners." Dirge muttered.

"Anyone you'd have something in common with would first need to be dragged here by their friends, then would spend the rest of the evening sitting in their own dark corner never talking to anyone."

"I'm going home." Dirge said, getting up. She swayed a little and decided it was best to transform and drive out rather than try to stagger her way through the crowd. Not that everyone here was in a humanoid form in the first place.

"Dirge, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that..." Volks tried to apologize but the droning sound of her friends hovercraft turbines drown out her voice. "Look, at least let me take you home..." Volks sighed and transformed as well, delievering hasty "excuse me, pardon me," as she drove across the dance floor. Dirge's fan noise and the soft skirt of her hovercraft made it much easier for her to travel this way than Volks could.

The gloom of Dirge's living quarters had gone from a mere lack of illumination to a darkness that was more like a solid wieghty mass. The blackness pushed in on everything, pressing down from a cieling that was no longer visible, and made it's own walls out of it's own dense material.

And all it had taken was lighting a few candles.

Actually, they were not candles as such, they were light emitting diodes projecting into quartz crystals, but the amount of illumination they created was about the same. These softly glowing and flickering light sources were arranged out in mathmatical precision, each was a warning light on a simple stasis field projector.

Covering the center of the floor was multilayered circles, some carved into the floor, some raised above it through layered materials. Complex symbols marked this circles, these Cybertronian versions of Seals of Solomon, each positioned with intense precision for their occultic meaning.

Dirge touched the final pad. She had contructed this in a fit of inspiration over the last few solar cycles. The world hadn't missed her after all. Finally it was finished. Slowly the sigils of ancient power activated, surge protectors drawing power from the ether(or at least the wall outlet) to fuel the magicks that were soon to be invoked.

Dirge bowed her head, giving time for the stars to aligne properly(and the system to boot up), and then began her chant. The words flowed in a steady rythem, a growing cadence. From deep within her a joyous feeling of triumph welled up.

Hopefully this wouldn't be like last time when absolutely nothing had happened. This time she was sure she had it right. The forces of darkness would answer her call, drawn by the scent of their lost mate, her spark.

Her chant continued, the sigils glowing faintly as they seemed to crawl across the surface. Words of power writ in dead languages none had ever spoken(probably BASIC) were intoned and the powers flowed within the darkened room.

Chevron one locked in place on the seal that crawled and spiraled about in the center of this convergance of powers, this nexus for the arcane and occult. Dirge pressed on with her spell that would open a gateway to the very bowels of hell. Chevron three locked. The thrilling sense of victory came to her.

The networked CPU's were sacraficed, the power supply to much for them they overheated and released their mystic blue smoke into the air like so much cloying incense. The tendrils of smoke coiled about in the flickering light, and for a moment Dirge thought she could see something approaching through the darkness and the wispy smoke that reached beyond the veil of this realm.

The final chevron locked in place. Contact was made with the other side. So many things could find you if you looked for them. Dark things, things of hunger and pain. Things that could destroy the world as it was known and consume the fabric that mortals believed to be their existance.

Dirge felt the wash of heat across her body as a blast of blinding red flame exploded up through the gateway to the depths. The hellfire swirled about, spiralling downward and outward until it merely ringed the portal. Before the flames could lower completely from the towering collum they had been a claw launched out, the three fingers bouncing off the containment field set up at the edge of the pentagram. As the otherworldly flames subsided it revealed the rest of the figure with whom the claw belonged.

He was tall and angular. Some sort of jetcraft as an alternate mode, the wings on his arms marked that clear enough. He floated there above the swirling maelstorm with regal contempt, his legs tapering down into a single point on which he hovered. He was everything Dirge had dreamed of, and more. The deep crimson of his armor seemed to glisten as if he were bathed in blood until every miniscule detail on his almost monochromatic armor was picked out.

The icy cobalt blue of his optical array landed on her, and his helmet shifted. The aviator styled mask covering his face pulled back and the helm folded back. His face was a flawless mask of perfection, the tail wings now granting him the appearance of hair that flowed down to his shoulders. A slow smile spread across that marbled face as he contemplated her, and Dirge felt the thrill of his gaze.

"You summoned and I am here." He said, his voice a soft promise of still greater pleasures. His wings were, infact, mounted on oversized gauntlets that housed his three fingered claw, so when he swept his arm across his chest in a deep formal bow the wing shifted as a cape to drape off his arm. "What is your wish my dear mortal?"

"You've reached the residence of Dirge. I'm not in. Or don't feel like coming to the door. Or whatever." Pause to eat up the rest of the message time. "Yeah." tone to designate the system was now recording.

"Dirge... it's Volks. Are you alright? This is probably the third message I've sent you. Look, I'm sorry for back at the club. Look, they said you haven't been showing up for work... but the creepy part is nobody else is worried about it. They're giving you free days off for as long as you want, with pay. How'd you pull that off? It's usually like pulling teeth to get any time off from those guys. I know you're still in there. I... hear things at night sometimes. And... during the day. And other times. I just... worry about you, alright?"

"So... you can... grant wishes?" Dirge asked tentatively. The response was laughter that both chilled and thrilled her.

"I suppose you could say that." The freshly summoned creature answered, smiling warmly. "But then don't we all have the ability to grant anothers wishes? While I doubt I retain my servants here, I still retain all my skills. I'm certain, with some time and certain allowances, I could complete whatever Faustian contract you could dream up."

"Didn't that contract end badly for Faust?"

"Ah, yes. Most insightful." He nodded. "However, that leaves the question as to the purpose of my invitation."

"I... I'm not sure." Dirge finally admitted.

"Really?" The demonic vehicon tilted his head as those icelike optics drank in her body. "If I could be so bold, might I make an observation?"

Dirged took a moment to study him, while he gazed at her with an intentness that enflamed her. Finally she nodded.

"You are drawn to the darkness, yet given your living conditions, your world is filled with the light and luxury. You have no outlet for your true self, and so you are not understood by others. You seek the darkness for which your heart yearns for through any means, through study of forbidden texts and from experimentation into the occult." Or at least the Techno-Occult. It's Cybertron, what are you going to do?

This monster who spoke directly to her heart knelt down so that he was looking up at her. His lower body reconfigured into legs while he did so. "You are looking for some one, or something, that understands you. While I could offer you wealth and luxery such as this world could provide, you would find that such would grow stale and hollow quickly. As for companionship, that is something more complex."

Dirge was speachless for several seconds, mostly in contemplation of those eyes that seemed to swallow her whole gaze. "I never thought about it. You're the first person who's understood me." She blinked and then realised she had yet to introduce herself. "My name is Dirge."

He nodded. "I am known as Vanquish. No relation to the historical figure of course."

"Who?"

"Nevermind." He said dismissively. "Now, my lovely Dirge, would you be willing to release me from this containment?" He held out one claw and traced a sine wave against the barriar that held him within the pentagram.

"I'm... not sure." She said hesitantly.

"Because you summoned me from the pits of fire and brimstone, and you know not what destructive forces I could unleash on your world." He nodded. "I understand. Dirge, look into my optics." She already was. "Stand up. Take two steps forward." She took her second step without even realising she had stood up from where the shockwave of opening the portal had knocked her to her knees. She felt an incredible excitement when she realised that he was controlling her. "Place your claws against mine." His three fingered claw touched the invisible field, while on the other side her own two opposing clamps did the same. "Do you know how easy it would be for me to force you release me from these bonds?"

"Yes." She whispered, one hand already reaching to disrupt the projectors.

"Release me of your own free will, and you will find that my word can be trusted." Vanquish said. "I can be your... friend. If you'll have me as such."

The projectors powered down, there was an almost visible tension released as they did so, and Vanquish was free. "Of course." Dirge breathed softly. "Thank you."

Vanquish smiled. "Of course, we'll have to see about that wealth and luxery as well."

His name was Billy, and if you find that name unusual for a citizen of Cybertron, well perhaps you simply are not aware of this Cybertron. After all, the ties to Earth and Humans were stronger here, under the rule of Emperor Optimus Prime, than ever before. Billy himself had his own human body he could wear, if he so desired, but he wasn't wearing it at the moment. Infact the form he wore at this moment was a small jeep.

Billy drove over the skyway with a light heart. Sure, it was dark, the solar cycle being about to restart, but there was no need to be fearful. Bright lights shined for him, the road was well lit and he was just plain in a good mood. He loved this midnight drives through the steel valley's and canyons of his home town.

Vanquish sat on the edge of one of the cliffsides and looked down some seventeen stories at the skyway below, focusing on that one little carefree driver. The crimson vehicon smiled to himself, and lept off into the empty air, transforming as he did. His thrusters were muffled so much that they didn't even hiss to life as they ignited and he streaked across the thin slash of a sky.

Billy first noticed that the street lights were going out. They flickered a moment, and then blinked out, leaving him with only his headlamps to guide him and keep him on the narrow skyway. He slowed down a bit, and finally when he realised he was the only one about he came to a full stop. The Autobot figured he had better report this malfunction. Except his communications line was filled with static. He frowned from within his frame and started up his engines again.

Vanquish dropped down from the darkness into the spotlight of the twin headlamps. "Hello there..." Vanquish focused his sensors on the Autobots unshielded mind, listening to the electrical signals bouncing about in there. "... Billy."

The jeep's rear wheels folded back and he lifted his body up, transforming. "How did you know my name?"

"All part of the experiments I'm performing." Vanquish said.

"What kind of experiment? Who are you?"

"Ah now, is it more terrifying to not know the force that is about to kill you, or if you are already intimate with it?" Vanquish gestured with one of his three fingered claws as if he were pondering this. "It shouldn't take much to find out, should it?" With that he raised his other arm and unleashed a red bolt from the launcher built into his gauntlet. Billy staggered back gasping in pain. At first he'd assumed it had been some kind of laser pulse, but then he looked at his chest, just below his collar. There, having punched cleanly into his alloyed flesh was some kind of crimson spear. Numbly the Autobot reached his hand over and touched the protruding object. It crumpled to a redish powder at his touch.

Billy looked at his hand in horror as he felt the red dust start to eat into his hand. He couldn't even feel it, but he saw his servos rusting, the alloy oxidizing, right before his eyes. He glanced at his chest as it too aged and died from this plauge in moments. He started to let out a scream, but Vanquish was already there beside him. One clawed hand grabbed at his face, punching through his neck, and tore. Billy's vocal processor buzzed in protest as it was removed so violently.

"Oh no, I can still hear you, don't worry about that." Vanquish said, his optical array glittering like backlit ice as he gazed into Billy's panic stricken face. "Do you know what this is?" He held his claw to Billy's face, letting the fearful mech gaze at it. The claw extended out slightly, and energy arched across it. "That's right. Spark Extractors are built into my arms. Excellent. You know what that means? Your spark will not return to the Matrix. I will devour it, and your existance as it is will cease to be. I will hold you in endless suffering, fueling my own power. Now feel free to struggle. I expect this hurts, and I plan on doing it slowly."

Vanquish drove his claw against Billy's chest, and the mech started to twich and spasm. Energy sparked and flickered across his frame, mostly arching around where the claw pressed into him. Like a ball of caged lightning his spark was pulled forth, only to be swallowed into the clawed gauntlet. Ventings on the frame flared in powdery azure light as the spark was processed into it's componet energies.

The winged demon smiled beneath his mask, flexing his claws as his victims soul was subjected to eternal torment. With a dismissive gesture the husk of a dying body was flung over the side, plummeting into the darkened pit. Then Vanquish launched himself heavenward, to seek further prey.

It was hard to tell under his warm white robes exactly what he could transform into, or even if he could transform at all. It was possible his body was single form, despite the psychological issues a Cybertronian suffered when unable to alter their form, on this world many choose to take on android bodies, for better human relations it was said. Fully functional, anatomically correct android bodies.

Of course, what mattered was that his hand was warm, his clasp was firm, and his face was friendly. Not handsome, not really even attractive, but friendly and perhaps even loving as he greeted you when you came into the building, when he stood before you and spoke, and once more when he thanked you for attending as you left.

He had all this, and more as his voice could project across the pews and his words spoke to the very soul. He could use his voice and his words to sooth, or to incite to action, though rarely had he requested action. Perhaps only a few times, during fundraisers the church had put on to support the local community.

He was, of course, doing none of that now. Services were over, and he simply was guiding the little cleaning drones to make ready for tomorrows services. Already in his mind he was constructing his sermon...

"Bless me father, for I am sin." The voice was like a knife blade being drawn over velvet.

He sighed softly, pausing, then turned to face this intruder with open arms. "My child, this is not a catholic church. We do not require you confess your sins to any material being, merely that you admit them in your processor so that your spark will gain understanding. Only with an enlightened spark are we truely ready to reenter the Matrix of our Creator."

The figure he saw before him was tall and achingly beautiful by certain standards. He paused to catch his breath as the crimson figure stood... no floated before him. Vanquish studied this priest with a steady gaze. A young priest? An old one? It was difficult to tell, the only things old on this planet seemed to be the structures, it was like every single living person had been wiped off the face of the planet, and then a new generation had been restored.

Which, if one studied The Spark Wars in their histories, is exactly what happened.

"If you wish merely to speak, I am here for you." The priest said. "While it is of no requirement to confess, often organizing ones code to transmit allows for a greater understanding of your own thoughts."

Vanquish nodded slowly in sage agreement. "That it true. But you misunderstood me. I did not say I have sinned." The priest suddenly jumped as his little cleaning drones remote commands were being over ridden. One attacked his foot while the others circled around him, as threateningly as the ankle high mechanoids could make themselves. "I said..." Vanquish continued, floating closer. The priest looked into his eyes, and the sparkling blue swirling energies therein locked his attention. The priest felt his mind being poured out into those eyes, his very spark being swallowed up by this blood red angel. "I am sin!"

As the priest dropped to his knees Vanquish laughed.

They were assymbled in a great throng before him as he stepped out. Rodimus Prime composed himself, addressing the ravaged war torn world of Cybertron for the first time in his career.

"Let this mark the end of the Cybertronian Wars, as we march forward to a new age of peace and happiness! 'Till All Are One!"

The crowd broke into cheers, shouting back "'Till All Are One!" over and over like a mantra.

Dirge clicked pause on the replay.

"Ever notice that there are no Decepticons in that crowd scene." She asked.

"No humans either." Vanquish added. "And that is your official historical documentation? Yet we are being ruled by Emperor Optimus Prime, while there is little mention of Rodimus Prime."

"Hrm." Dirge noted, sipping her drink. They'd pretty much finished off all the snacks during the movie. She tended not to think about such minor inconsistances. It was better than having no history at all.

She snuggled closer against Vanquish's crimson frame, feeling the warmth of his arms wrapped around her. They were strong arms, and she knew they had weapons built into them. She wasn't sure what kind, but deadly ones. It gave her a little thrill even as she was comforted.

"Vanquish?"

"Yes?"

"Where do you go?" Dirge asked, looking up at him. "When you go out I mean."

Vanquish took a moment to answer. He had been very busy during the times that he was not with Dirge. These were his moments to rest and relax. To digest his meals after what had so far been a very boring series of hunts. The local policing force had been laughably simple to elude thus far, and to vent his frustrations Vanquish had grown more and more exotic in his torture of whatever local citizen he felt was worth capturing.

But that had only been the tip of his workings. Other things were being arranged as well. With his control over lesser minds and electronics, Vanquish had been quite busy gathering news that otherwise wouldn't have made it to networks. Things were becoming harder for Cybertron. The economy had started to decline, and there were growing frustrations with the government.

A small faction known as the Imperialtrons was growing in power. Vanquish had quickly started infiltrating it, attending meetings at the ground level. So far he had not gained any true standing, but he knew how the winds of change were blowing.

"I have been making preperations." Vanquish said thoughtfully. "I would have liked to keep this awhile longer from you, but I suppose it is time. I have a gift for you."

"A gift?" Dirge rolled off his lap, letting him merge his legs together and hover above the floor. "What kind of gift?"

"We are soon to enter a new world." Vanquish declared. "Dirge, I would like you to be beside me as this new world grows around us." He offered his hand to her. "Will you be mine?"

"Of course." Dirge took his claw in hers. "Always."

"Good." Vanquish nodded and embraced her in the middle of the room. "This... may hurt."

"I trust you." Dirge sighed, feeling his body against hers. "There is truth in pain. You would not deny me the truth of life."

"No." Vanquish smiled at her, the spark extracting engines in his arms building up a charge. They were not, however, building a charge to extract. Rather they were going to inject. He raised one arm and brought his wrist to her mouth. A fuel port opened. "Drink of me and be reborn."

Dirge leaned forward, ingesting the flowing fuel. She gulped and suckled greedily, feeling the burning through her body. Power charged her own fuel lines, her mechfluid rebuilding her body from the inside out. She moaned at the sensation, a burning, growing, need within her.

Vanquish watched the tremors of both joy and pain surge through her body as his caustic fluids devoured her from the inside out. He felt her body dying even as she drank from him, and waited until the indescribable sensations she was feeling had reached their peak before he drove his clawed hand into her chest. The energy from the sparks he had fed on now fed into her, corrupting her body, warping it, twisting it.

Shards of her body began to flake off, falling to the floor where they continued to burn. Still he held her as she thrashed and struggled, driving his power into her with surges. She screamed, but from pain or pleasure he could not tell.

Finally he was spent, and gently Vanquish lowered her form to the ground. He watched her as her optical array faded to blackness. Then, like a serpent bursting from it's dead skin a second face pulled free from her former. She struggled and writhered, smiling up at him with a hungry look on her new fanged jaws.

"That... wass delicious." She hissed happily. "What have you done to me?"

"Your form has undergone volution." Vanquish smiled at her joy.

"Like... evolution?" She had pulled her claws free, showing them to still a claw, though now with more jointing than the lobster like sections she had formerly used. Finer motor control, and already she could feel weapons systems built into her arms.

"I would think more like to volute, the artistic process." Vanquish nodded. "You have been voluted. Would you care to see your new body?"

She was wiggling her hips, trying to pull them out of her former body as it flaked and pealed away... her legs and waist were slim for the first time in her life, and she nodded eagerly.

Vanquish showed her to the mirror in her home. She blinked her two slanted optics and smiled. Her legs had fused into a single trunk now, rolling on a single wheel. Her armor plating was now a deep midnight blue, with golden highlights. Her alternate form was a vehicon cycle, or rather an adaption of it, with the wheels converting to fans. Basically she retained her hovercraft alternate mode, though now slinkier and streamlined. "I look... sexy." She said.

"Yes." Vanquish agreed. "Yes you do."

Dirge threw herself at him, coiling around his lower body as she embraced. Her serpent face pressed against his in a deep kiss.

"I have power now." She breathed to him. "Beauty and power."

"Two more unspoken wishes for you granted." Vanquish smiled in return. "Shall we... take some time to learn your new body?"

"Oh... yessss..." She hissed.

"The streets are getting empty." Vanquish said, watching as fellow Transformers moved about their daily routine as the last rays of the sun faded. Cybertron didn't really didn't feel like Cybertron until the sun went down. Unfortunately, these days the city was feeling less and less alive.

"Prices are going up." Dirge responded. "Not many can afford to take leisure time. The world is decaying. It'd dying slowly before our very eyes. We will see it spiral into the dust, all that has been so futilely worked for come to nothing."

"Possibly." Vanquish nodded at his consorts gloomy prediction, and paused to let her have her moment before he attempted to be positive. "Possibly this is just a change." He turned to look at her sideways with his knowing smile. "After all, isn't death merely the final change? How can we tell what this change will be into?"

Dirge didn't change her stony expression as she gazed with disinterest at those who flitted about beneath her. But she did nod. Inside she still marveled wishing she could see just how impressive they both looked, standing here on the rooftop talking to one another. Vanquish seemed to know just how to make her feel important and impressive.

"How about that one?" Vanquish said, pointing at a lone vehicle that drove along the skyway.

"I don't know." Dirge shrugged, glancing at Vanquish again. "Why are we doing this?"

"Is a reason important?" He shrugged. "What do their lives mean?"

"Nothing, I suppose." Dirge went back to watching the fewer and fewer points of moving lights. She wasn't even straining her optical array and she could see clear details on even the furthest layer of the city. "It just seems... strange. The thought of picking some one at random simply to kill. Do alternate forms of energy not feed you?"

Vanquish smiled at her concern. "Actually, since you summoned me, I've found they do. This wasn't about slaking my thirst really. And even voluted your body should be able to absorb the nessisary fuels from mundane means."

"Then this is just one more meaningless act, in a world without meaning?"

"Perhaps." Vanquish paused, studying Dirge.

"Very well." Dirge nodded, accepting the statement as reason enough when her consort did not seem inclinded to continue.

"Perhaps this is a statement, that we can flaunt the laws of society." Vanquish continued after a long pause, bringing Dirge's attention back to him. "Perhaps it reaffirms our power over these lesser beings. Perhaps it's a challenge, to see if I'm still capable of such an act. Perhaps it's a hold over from my former life where slaying others was the only way to survive."

"Then you really want to do this?"

"Not if you object." Vanquish softly replied. "Despite all the reasons, I believe you were correct the first time. It is a meaningless act. I have nothing to proove to myself, to you, or to the world. What passes for law enforcement in this place has been laughable to me, and I grow bored with flaunting my power. If you hold no desire to continue this hunt, then it will cease."

"That is it?" Dirge asked. "No brooding over the darkness within your spark?"

"M'lady Dirge," Vanquish laughed, "I am a demon. An unholy thing not of this world. Do you really expect me to feel pity or remorse for my actions?"

Dirge paused a moment, looking down, then she met his eyes, letting herself fall under their power as she returned his laughter and smile. "I guess not." She said, and they shared laughter as she felt herself falling into his gaze. Her body seemed weightless as the two of them came together, gazing into each other in rapture.

Both lost track of time they spent embracing, but the night passed around them. Finally Dirge realised she was not under his control. Some how that saddened her, and encouraged her at the same moment. She broke their gaze, and leaned against him. He could be surprisingly stable for merely floating in place.

"How about that one?" Dirge asked, gazing down at the streets below. "A tank. He looks like he could be a challenge."

"He drives cautiously." Vanquish noted, stroking his consorts body. "I don't think he knows the first thing about combat, the tank alternate form was a choice of ego. That green jeep that just passed below him, that is a bully. He's fought before, and not in a sanctioned manner. He's a criminal. Possibly a killer."

"Are you reading that from his mind?" Dirge asked.

"No." Vanquish replied. "Beyond my sphere of influence. But being able to read the sins of others from their mind has taught me how to see how they betray themselves through their actions. The way his mirrors are tilted, the manner in which his exhaust is expelled, the markings on his frame, how he speeds and slows with the way the road turns." Vanquish looked at Dirge. "I could be wrong of course. I would need to get closer and taste the energies in the air around him to know the truth. Even then I couldn't be sure."

"Your powers..."

"Are mere parlor tricks." Vanquish sighed. "Any with the right technology could perform them. Your own powers are the same." Dirge felt an urge to embrace him again at his confession, and she acted on it.

"Maybe we should just go home then." Dirge suggested. "Download something fun."

"Wait." Vanquish said, gazing over the side again. "Look there." He pointed and Dirge followed his gesture. A large osprey helicopter and what looked like a some kind of technorganic beast had cornered a much smaller compact car. They'd forced him off into an alleyway before trapping him between the two of them. They'd all transformed and it was clear the little fellow was being threatened. The two demonic figures on the rooftop couldn't hear what was going on, but it became clear that this was a mugging.

"Should we do something?" Vanquish asked, looking at Dirge. Dirge watched as the technorganic creature pushed the little fellow down, then looked back up at her consort.

"Like what?" Dirge asked. The larger fellow who had formerly held the form of a helicopter now used one of his rotor blades to slice off his victims arm. Vanquish watched the violence and then met Dirge's question with a predatory smile.

Vanquish lept from the building, cutting whatever power he used to allow himself to hover in place, and transformed as he fell. His wings caught the air and he angled himself as city rushed up beneath him. Finally, almost absentmindedly, he kicked in his turbines on full after burn, and vanished in a streak of crimson. Dirge didn't leap after him. She leaned forward off the building, letting her single wheel balance on the edge for a moment before rolling off the lip. She went into freefall, rushing down the building with her arms trailing behind her. With a twist her body converted and her cycle wheels touched the side of the building, spinning as if to accellerate her. They simply bounced off, so she converted the rest of the way, catching the side of the building with an electromagnetic field and sliding along under her own power but without friction.

"See, Twinspin there get's a little clumsy these days." The technorganic figure said. His alternate form was four legged with frills on his primary head and the shoulders of his forelegs. His transformation was simply standing up on his hindlegs and spreading his forelegs so they became arms while the primary head tucked into his chest. Two secondary, slightly saurian heads folded back and his bladed tail tucked between them. "He's not getting regular meals, I'm sure you understand."

"Ain't got no job, see?" Twinspin shrugged. "Used to do tour flights. Then cargo runs when that dried up. Always forget I'm not so good at holding stuff in robot mode, 'cuz I ain't got no fingers, just my rotors."

"And I'm unfortunately some distance away from my lush tropical home. All these buildings scare me. Makes me think this neighborhood is a bunch of organiphobes." Twinspin grunted out a chuckle at his partners words. "So all we're asking for is the price of a ticket on the hyper rail, and maybe a good meal. I'm sure that's not much for you."

"I sleep in free parking..." The little car moaned. "I can't afford to get my arm fixed..."

"Oh, life is just rough all around, ain't it?" Twinspin said, his rotors spinning in a blur as he brought them towards his little target.

"Life is a meaningless curse to some. Simply meaningless to others." Dirge intoned.

"Who said that?" The technorganic three headed dragon asked the shadows.

"It's an original work." Dirge seemed to materialize out of the roadway. "I do my own lamentation. Perhaps you would prefer a requiem?"

Dirge didn't come up to his hip. He could squash her flat, and had a partner here backing him. So why was he taking a step backwards? This girl made his skin crawl. Like those little perfectly dressed children who walked down the hallway in the big mansion of horror movies. Only this wasn't a little girl, it was a short woman. "And who are you?"

"I am the threnody that plays for you now. The trental that is the last you will hear. I am the elegy of the emptiness of the world, the epicedium of lifes end." Her steady, creepy, voice and slow threatening roll of the single wheel she balanced on drove him back against the wall. Still she pressed forward, and he started to whimper and curl himself up into a frightened ball.

"And I am taking away your thesaurus when we get home." Vanquish told Dirge as Twinspin screamed. The blade handed mech was probably screaming more from surpise than pain, though his rotor assymble was probably quite sensitive, and Vanquish had just shot one of them off. Twinspin turned to face Vanquish who seemed to float through the wall of the alleyway. Twinspins other rotor struck the wall as he swung at Vanquish, breaking one blade. Vanquish grabbed Twinspins arm and pushed it back, overpowering the larger mech with strength and more importantly leverage that he didn't look like he possessed.

"No fun at all." Dirge stuck her forked tounge out at Vanquish while approaching the cowering technorganic.

"Don't hurt me... don't hurt me... please... please don't..." He whimpered. Dirge's terror inducing voice having full effect on him, he could do little but cry and plead, his body locked in horror that he simply couldn't comprehend. He felt a cold touch to his forehead as Dirge placed her hand there. "... please... don't... don't... please... don't..." he whispered, his eyes clenched tight. Vanquish had Twinspin in an arm lock, and was forcing him to his knees as he watched his technorganic partner slump to the ground lifeless, a smoking hole through his forehead. Vanquish aimed the weapon mounted on his gauntlet and fired twice. The matter streams lanced into each of his feet, and solidified into blood red spikes. With Twinspin laying on the ground, his legs spiked to the street, Vanquish released the larger mechs arms and floated over to join Dirge.

"Not as much of a challenge as I'd thought." Vanquish shrugged.

"He didn't taste so well either." Dirge frowned. "His fear added a nice spice to it, but probably shouldn't have shot him first."

"It does go stale fast." Vanquish agreed.

"What happened to my feet?" Twinspin said, managing to crawl forward. His legs were turning into a rusty powder as he moved forward. "I can't walk... I can't transform... I can't..." In annoyance Vanquish slammed his claw through Twinspins splin and into his spark casing, extracting the last semblance of life from the mangled mechanoid.

Dirge watched as silence filled the alleyway, broken only by the sound of Twinspins lifeless body hitting the pavement. She then turned her attention to the two muggers victim, who had been forced against the wall.

"You... you both... saved me?" He asked, still in shock at the violence he had just witnessed.

"Yes." Vanquish nodded. "I suppose the feeling of warmth and goodness at helping another will hit me in a moment."

"You... killed them both?" He looked to be going into shock. He was still leaking fluids from his missing arm socket. The sparks however had stopped, meaning he'd already shorted out whatever was exposed. "How... who..." He couldn't seem to complete the words as he fell back against the wall and put his one functional hand against his head. "Oh... what am I going to do..." Dirge slithered over to him to give him a comforting claw.

"Hrm." Vanquish mused, looking up at the stars in the night sky. Only the brightest were visible due to light pollution. "That feeling of warmth and goodness... I'm just not getting it."

"I got it!" Dirge declared, the spark extractor in her arm was glowing with a fresh kill. Her second for the night. The little one armed mugging victim lay dead against the wall. "And I'll share too."

"Bless me Father, for I am sin." Vanquish's soft voice seemed to echo through the church. "It has been five days since last we spoke."

This time the priest fell to his knees as soon as he heard the voice. He trembled slightly, not turning to look. "Lord Vanquish..."

"Ah good, you remember." Vanquish said, floating closer to his target. There had been changes made to the structure since he had first appeared here, though mostly minor ones at the moment. It was, however, making ready for a grand renovation. "And have you also been... keeping the faith?"

"Yes, Lord." The priest trembled as the touch of that claw to his robe covered shoulder. "Ev... everything is proceeding as you asked." His voice cracked, remembering the last visit this being had inflicted on him. "In such short time, gathering accolytes has been..."

"Would you like me to see to them?" Vanquish whispered, his soothing voice that of a silken deathshrowd. "Personally?"

"No... no." The priest pleaded. "I can see to them. I will. Everything will be ask you requested."

"Very good then." Vanquish withdrew his hand. "Then payments will still be made so that you can continue the good works on this material plane. As stated before, I can not confirm your place in the great nexus of energies beyond this life." The words dropped to barely audiable as Vanquish turned to leave. "But you will at least remain capable of earning your place."

The priest strained to hear if any doors or windows or other portals opened, but Vanquish made no sound. Every entry into the building was sealed and locked. It made his body shake as he double checked them all. Doors it seemed posed no obstacle to Vanquish.

Some time later however, a very certain door was posing a monumental obstacle to some one else.

Volks had composed this message over in her head so many times it was no longer making sense. She was second guessing herself. Dirge had never been outgoing. In fact, getting Dirge to go out often involved bribery and much cohersion. That didn't matter though. Dirge was a good friend. Volks really hadn't thought of it until this fight, but Dirge had been her best friend. It was strange, Volks had lots of friends, she loved going out and going to sports, and while never the most popular girl, she was always at least invited to the parties that Dirge wasn't. But Volks had never any good friends except Dirge. She couldn't explain it, Dirge was just right for her.

And now Dirge wasn't talking to her.

Finally her rather large and blunt finger pushed the call button. "Dirge... it's me. Volks."

"You've reached the residence of Dirge. I'm not in. Or don't feel like coming to the door. Or whatever." It was that same dreary monotonous voice that she loved so much. Then the expected pause to eat up the rest of the message time. Dirge was amazingly good at talking, her poetry and songs were downright moving, and she wrote frequently, and anonomously Volks knew. Still, the recording was mostly blank, not even asking for a message after the tone, just saying "Yeah." and then the tone to designate the system was now recording.

"Dirge... you're worrying me. I mean really worrying me. Come on, please talk to me. This isn't you. Look, I'm sorry if I'm being a bother sending leaving all these messages. I was sure I saw you at home, and I picked up a book for you that I thought you might like. If you want to talk, you know where I'm at. I want to talk to you..." The recording stopped and Volks released the com button. "Just please don't lock me out."

Volks started the walk home, not paying much attention to her surroundings. Which was unfortunate, as she didn't even see her attacker. She was in stasis lock before she could even identify who had hit her. And within moments she was carried away to someplace else.

Dirge was attacked on the way home or Volks? Seems a massive scene shit without warning if it was Dirge.

((Thanks for catching that, wrong name used there. Edited and corrected. I was struggling to no end with Volks name honestly, and finally just picked one at random form TFU.))

"... and so we have gathered today to witness a miracle." Volks audio recievers started processing something more than static. Damage reports overlapped one another to the point that she would have had to invent new places on her body just so they could be causing her pain. The voice at least was somewhat soothing.

"Our world is crumbling. Poverty and crime are rampant, and none of our leaders have given us answers. So we now turn to a higher power. As our sparks leave our bodies to rejoin the Matrix, to merge once more with Primus the great Creator, we carry with us the memories that enrich Primus, so that he too may gain further enlightenment and rejoin the Great Pantheon. But with our lives threatened, we must ask of Primus a boon. A sign. An inspiration! And tonight we will!"

The priests garmets were darkened for this special black sabbath. Vanquish smiled in grim amusement as he watched the procession. He could not read their minds, but he already felt their greed and desires. These were the perfect prey for him, culled by the head priest from his flock of faithful. It had grown dull for Vanquish and Dirge to slay random innocents, and drawing out worthy opponets to fight was begining to seem impossible. So Vanquish had come up with a new game. After all, if one had power over another by being able to kill them, what power did you have over another when they were begging you to kill them?

"We have with us the first of many who will be sent to Primus with our pleas. She will carry our message that Primus aid his children once more as her spark leaves her mortal frame behind."

Volks felt rough hands lift her and haul her to her feet. She felt hooks scrap across her rear windows then finally hook under her arms. Vanquish studied the two who hauled this semi-activated form across the floor. They were bullies, criminals even. Interesting that they had been deemed worthy to be accolytes of this new teaching. And the sacrafice for this night... Vanquish frowned, studing her.

"And now, to ensure these memories are embedded into her spark, to secure our message to the great Creator, I beg the appearance of an emissary. Come forth, crimson angel!"

Vanquish took his cue, light streaming down from above, he seemed to appear out of the blinding shaft of illumination, floating there on the air as if an ethreal being.

"I am Vanquish." He stated, letting his own voice carry with it the power to move others into doing his bidding. "Though I am no angel, I am here to accept this role. As any of you could accept, should you so desire."

There was a murmur in the crowd at this, perhaps over the top, performance. Vanquish turned his gaze on the first to speak. The demonic vehicons optical array flashed like crackling ice.

"Markson," Vanquish said, naming the first to give voice. "You have doubts. Share them. I have made no promises, I am under no contract. You have no more assurances from me than you do from any other source. What I do here I do because none of you wish to take such action. In that at least I offer you truth. If you do not believe in what we are about to do here, you should not have come. If you do believe in the eternal Spark, in the grand Matrix, then share what doubts you have. I, or Father VanGuard, will offer our insight. I seek to force nothing on any of you. I offer only a path to salvation, one that you must tread under your own devotion."

Markson shifted uncomfortably. Vanquish had addressed all issues he could think of, reading them right from his mind.

"And you Starhawk?" Vanquish addressed another who had let doubt give her voice, pulling their names from their minds. "You have lost so much, yet I am asking you for nothing more. If you believe other than in this path, you are not ready to follow. You have all come here by your own choosing, knowing what will transpire tonight. Do any of you not wish to carry through?"

Most of them had not known what was to transpire on this night. Not exactly. Yet now that he could scan their thoughts Vanquish touched each of them in turn. Even as many of them did not need his direct touch, they were already swept away in their belief. Such a wonderful thing, belief, Vanquish mused silently. He could come to love religion. It offered so much for so many.

"Then we may proceed." Vanquish intoned finally, floating forward, his arms spread benevolently even as his body seemed to drip malevolence. The red coating over his armor seeming to be liquid in this light, as if the paint had not yet dried. There was no sign of it running or flowing, it was as solid as any others armor, yet somehow the way it glistened in the light made it seem liquid. "Bring me forth the sacrafice."

Volks was shoved forward and Vanquish swept her up into his arms. His optical array met hers and he studied her mind as if it was art. A glorious tapestry, like all who he had slain.

I'm sorry Dirge... I never told you I love you... I hope you'll be alright without me...

Vanquish twitched, reading the pure thoughts of this victim. She was serene, calm. Focused solely on one regret, and wishing only happiness on another. Pain lanced through her body in ways unimaginable, and yet she showed no hate, no fear. Only love for one not here. He would have killed her slowly until she broke and gave him the futile struggle he sought, if not for one thing.

Dirge.

Vanquish slammed his claw into her lower torso, lifting Volks into the air. "This is your sacrafice?" He shouted at the congregation. Many of them cowered from the venom in his voice. "She is near dead! Her body wracked with pain, and you want her to deliever a clear message? Who selected this, THIS, as your messanger? I would not send this one to Primus, had I a choice, but she is near death already! Who did this?"

"Hey, she dropped easy. Looks like VanGuard's got his sacrafice for the night, and we're getting paid! Hey, since she's gonna die anyway, I suppose we can have our fun with her..." And you didn't think we'd get caught? You are so full of Slag Bacchus...

Vanquish threw Volks limp frame to the floor and turned on the two accolytes. Vanquish cast his arms toward them, and small explosions flared at the base of his claws, driving them forward. In moments both bulky figures had been snared, the claws gripping firmly on their armor plates, and the grappling lines pulling them across the floor on their knees.

"Hey! It... it wasn't us! You don't know who..."

"Yeah, you were asking..."

"It." Vanquish snarled, leaning forward and silencing them both with a command broadcast straight to their primary motor functions. "Was a retorical question." All the doors of the temple slammed shut.

Volks audio receptors faded to static as the screams mounted. Her mind faded in and out as shey lay there, weapons fire passing overhead. The congregation was not unarmed, they were not unprepared to defend themselves with lethal force. They were also no match for Vanquish. Those who survived that night were true converts.

She didn't know how long it was, or what happened around her. Motorfunctions faded out, her body dying as it bled out on the steps to the podium, her mind slipping away like mercury. Her life, her history, her memories, all seemed as insubstantial as a cloud, the swirling cottony blackness that was wrapping it's loving arms around her.

"Do you truely love Dirge?"

Yes...

"Will you be hers for all eternity? Hers... and mine?"

...yes...

"Good." Strong arms lifted her through the cloying darkness in a loving embrace "You will... feel this."

...

Vanquish smiled down at the form he held who was swiftly ceasing to be Volks. He had taken a direct hit from a surprisingly powerful cannon. One of the congregation apparently was former, or current, military grade. Already the armor had stopped smoking and the wet liquidness of his frame was becomming more pronounced as it flowed to refill the hole. He would heal from his wounds within moments. Volks would never heal from her wounds. She would die in his arms this night. But she would not be gone. The spark extracting engines in his arms building up a charge. They were not, however, building a charge to extract. Rather they were going to inject. He raised one arm and brought his wrist to her mouth. A fuel port opened.

"Drink of me and be reborn..."

"Now that your father has so suddenly and unexpectedly slipped into a coma we can be together my love. I do not care that he has left you written out of the will, for I still have my own vast family fortunes to fall back on."

"Oh, Sunstreaker..." The fragile damsel threw herself into the gleaming arms of her beloved. "I love you, but we can never be together... you see... I'm pregnant... by my long lost and forgotten brother... your evil twin..."

Dun dun dunnnn!!!

"Tune in next with for the continuing saga of All My Insecticons..." As the credits rolled a teaser from the next episode came up.

"Who is he?" Bumblebee(actually Hubcap wearing makeup to play Bumblebee) said forcefully, but not shouting as dark damsel Roulette held him back. "What he did to you... I'll destroy him bare handed! Who was it?"

"It was..." Dramatic pause as the bad girl hid her face in shame... "Trypticon..."

"I'll... destroy his credit rating bare handed!"

Dirge clicked off the television, her optical array twitching dangerously. She'd just remembered why she was usually offline at this hour. It wasn't the bright sunshine or the excessive number of people up and about... it was that there was nothing but dreck on broadcast channels.

Would she be doing a bigger favor to the world by killing the actors like Sunstreaker... by killing his writers(maybe it was just a computer stuck in a loop, that would make it mercy killing)... or maybe just wiping out all the viewers.

The writer or the viewers would be the best solution, but the actors would be noticably more satisfying. Decisions, decisions...

((Sorry, stalling here. I really only had one addition before I needed more details on the Imperialtrons and Galvicron's conquest of Cybertron, so I decided to slip in Dark Mousettes little rant on Soap Operas... they're still Soap Operas even if they have giant transforming robots after all.))

"Ah, Dirge my love, you're up early." Vanquish said, sweeping into the room. Dirge glanced up at him questioningly.

"I stayed up." Dirge said. "We've got some celibrities I want to see suffer when we can find the time." She'd been watching soap operas for far to long.

"Hopefully not on my account." Vanquish gave her a disarming smile.

"Just wanted to see the sun again. It's been quite awhile since I had." Dirge shrugged. "Wasn't missing much."

"Remember I said I was working on a surprise for you?"

"Oh? Yes." Dirge nodded. "Is it a new flat?"

"Actually, in a manner of speaking, it is." Vanquish tapped his chin thoughtfully. "However, things didn't go well. Had to kill some people."

"Hope they screamed."

"Oh, they did..." Vanquish smiled at the thought. "But I have a different gift for you."

"Huh?" Dirge studied Vanquish. The last time he said he'd had a gift for her she'd ended up in her new body. "You really shouldn't have." She said, uncoiling and slithering over to him. "Now I have to find a way to repay you." She smiled putting her arms on his shoulders. They kissed with a surge of power, then Vanquish spoke again.

"Actually, I really couldn't help myself. When I saw it, it thought of you." Vanquish said. Reaching behind him he gave a gesture, and in scuttled a massive creature.

It supported itself on six spindly legs, almost none of which matched the others. It's carapace was a dull greenish, with the exceptions of where bits had broken and flaked off, revealing either the pulsating organic organs, or the softly glowing technological factors. The beetles size, if not mass, however was taken up in a massive set of mandibles, blades that extened out for battle rather than anything as mundane as feeding.

"It's... hideous." Dirge said, delight filling her voice as she approached the creature.

"She, actually." Vanquish corrected himself.

"Venomess... Transform." The creature cackled, splitting apart in three different ways and twisting around as it reared back. The figure it created was even more misshapen, the hands being merely sawblades, the greenish carapace laying by it's sides like an open robe, and a face with one pointed monocole, one slit eye, half a mask and half mandibles, and two assymetrical antenna. Dirge studied Venomess for several moments. The beetle monster, bowed her head and seemed to clasp and unclasp her hands in front of her.

"Volks?" Dirge finally whispered, the full extent of what she was seeing sinking in.

"Was." Venomess nodded hesitantly. "Once." The way her voice cracked made it clear she no longer enjoyed speaking. She too was studying Dirge, who looked nothing as she remembered. "Changed."

"Yeah." Dirge said, taking a moment to look at herself, then compare it to her friends volution. "Changed."

"Like...?" Venomess asked. Dirge raced forward and threw herself into her larger friends arms, fiercely hugging her. Venomess was startled for a moment before she started patting Dirge on the back with the flat of her sawblade hand. Venomess burst into tears of joy. Her friend was with her again. Her friend was more beautiful than ever, and her friend still liked her. Everything important to happiness she had been given.

"I'm sorry." Dirge mumbled. "I should have told you... should have talked to you... I just... I just..."

"Dirge." Venomess said happily, and lay her head on her friends shoulder.

"You did this Vanquish?" Dirge asked, glancing over as he hovered there, sinking back into the shadows of the dark room.

"I did." Vanquish admitted freely, wondering what Dirge was referancing when she said 'this'.

"What happened?" Dirge asked, not wanting to let go of Venomess as she addressed Vanquish.

"The surprise I was working on was a cult. A small splinter of a local religion. Something dark and unholy for them to have in their backrooms and undergrounds."

"You have a cult?" Dirge blinked, impressed that he would be able to gather one so easily.

"I have possibly five cultists who survived, yes." Vanquish admitted. "Father VanGuard is rebuilding, hopefully after learning his lesson. Two of the accolytes were... unkind to your friend. She was to be the evenings sacrafice to me."

"You were the sacrafice?" Dirge asked Venomess.

"Yes." Venomess nodded. "Didn't know."

"She wouldn't have been a worthy sacrafice in the condition she was in." Vanquish sniffed distainfully. "They brought her to me near dead."

"And they screamed when you killed them." Dirge finished.

"The backroom was quite soundproof." Vanquish nodded. "They screamed a very long time. When I was holding her to consumate her sacrafice, I tasted her mind." He indicated Venomess. "Her final thoughts... they were of you. She loves you Dirge."

"Loves... me?" Dirge asked blankly, letting go of Venomess. The mishapen creature looked down again in shame. This wasn't how she wanted it revealed... she could have been happy had it never been revealed. She would leave if rejected, her heart broken, but she would leave. She could not force herself on Dirge, she loved her to much to force anything. "You... love me?"

Venomess stepped back, unable to meet Dirge's gaze in her shame. She nodded slightly, almost a twitching spasm. "Yes. Always have. You were... just right." Venomess was shocked as slim arms wrapped around her again and her love embraced her tightly. She glanced up and felt the kiss of her love.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Dirge asked.

"Didn't... wasn't..." Venomess struggled for words until her love kissed her again.

Vanquish nodded as the two of them started to consumate their love with tender touches and exploration of feelings they could share. He started to float into the next room when two sets of hands caught his arms.

"I think we should both thank you." Dirge told him.

"Sacrafice." Venomess said, and knelt before him, leaning her head back. Her chest shifted and opened, revealing a pulsating spark that glowed an unnatural color.

"Are you sure?" Vanquish asked, looking from Venomess exposing herself to him, then to Dirge prompting him, and back to the burning spirit being offered.

"I think so." Dirge said, a little surprised at her new pets display of willingness.

"Then... together." Vanquish said, taking Dirge's own hand with his. Venomess's eyes opened wide as she glanced over at Dirge. Her scarred mouth spread into a wide smile and she leaned back again as both spark extraction claws touched her tender life escense. The sensations that flowed through her made her spasm and tremble, her body wracked while her mind failed to comprehend the full extent of what was being done to her. Finally her body started to lose power, and it feel to the floor. A tiny trace of her spark still flickering there.

Vanquish flexed his claws a few times, savoring the sensation of what he had just done. His whole arm glowed with the extracted power. Dirge did likewise, her own arm seeming to barely contain what it had devoured. "Incredible." Vanquish finally said, never having felt something so amazing, so potent, in all of his long life.

"Thank you." Venomess mumbled, grasping them both by the ankles and hugging them tightly. Already her spark was recovering, slowly, from being drained nearly to death. "Again?"

"Shhh." Dirge whispered, stroking Venomess' head. "Rest first. Then, maybe again." Venomess smiled and slipped into blissful stasis lock. Dirge continued to pet her where she lay in the middle of the floor.

"Better by far than any new flat or stupid cult." Dirge finally said. Vanquish nodded.

*******

Later that night, as Dirge and Venomess slept in each others arms, Vanquish stared at one of the numerous monitors. He would be joining them in a few moments. There was something however he would need to address very soon. One of the cultists, one of them that he let survive, bore a mark. A simple emblem emblazoned on his shoulder, one he'd barely thought about during the events that transpired within the cathedral. It wasn't an unusual mark after all, not these days. In fact it was growing noticably in prominance. It wasn't that hard to find the symbol.



Perhaps it was one that Vanquish should be wearing as well...

((Without input from Megatron on the Imperialtrons rise to power, this story is now officially stalled out. If I could get a few more details, we'd have Vanquish attending Imperialtron ralleys, officially joining the Imperialtrons, expanding his cult following, and battling along side the Imperialtrons during Optimus Primes defeat.))

****

Questions? Comments? Suggestions?

And who wants to see a season of "All My Insecticons"?

((I've told you, I have no more details. Unless you're part of some of the higher circles, you probably don't know what's really going on anyway. It was all done with backhanded manipulation, other than the one day war. What details precicely do you need? You can always help come up with how events happened. I'm not good with tiny details, unless I have a very long period of time to think them out. I've given you all I've got right now.))

If I have all the details, then the story isn't just stalled out, it's over. There's nothing more to tell.

A standard ralleying speach of the Imperialtrons. How Galvicron revealed himself publically as a 'heroic' force, particularly given his appearance. Who all were the council that ruled along side Optimus Prime, who all are on the council beneath Galvicron. How the "evil aliens" were absorbed without a public outcry. Where was all the money(well, resources, not nessisarily currency) going? Where is all the money coming from? What exactly do the Technorganics have to do with all this(at least the public line of it), and why were they eradicated? Also baring in mind that Vanquish has a sort of "more than mind reading" ability, he'd probably track down the higher circles just to learn what's going on. If not from them, then from a more mundane source(mind reading each messanger as it came and went, and keeping a talley of which ones Galvicron fried). Which in turn leads to the question of what they, the higher circles, would do when they notice Vanquish is trying to be recruited.

"And what do you plan to do with all this information little Vehicon demon?" Galvicron asked, pondering the crimson figure that floated before him.

"About what I'm doing now." Vanquish bowed respectfully. "Enjoying the show. Only difference would be, now I'd have tickets to the balcony seats, and know how to avoid the mosh pit. So to speak."

((Forgive me for being rude, but here is a novel idea: why not think up some of those details yourself? If I have issues with what you come up with then I'll let you know and they can be edited as needed. I came up with the back story to the point that was needed to get Dark Empire moving, nothing more and nothing less. I've come up with the what, so why don't you come up with the how? I've all ready told you that I don't have any Imperialtrons other than Galvicron, so I can't help you on that one. That's why I'm going to have a casting call/villain auditions, so we can get some good expendable enemies other than the power players. As for who is on the original council with Prime, I'm not sure either. It could be made up of Great War veterans, or more original people, or something else. I've often debated if Primal is on that council, or perhaps a spiritual leader. Other than that, it doesn't really matter for Dark Empire, so I've never given it extensive thought. As for the money, I'm not an accountant, or an economics expert. Such details are mind bogglingly irrelevant and boring anyway. Who wants to read a story entry that's nothing but a bunch of receipts? As for how the enemy nations were "peacefully absorbed", I might be able to help you there, as it is a more "big picture" type thing. The technorganics were not wiped out. There are still plenty of people with beast modes and technorganic bodies. It was simply the planet that was reverted to pure technological order. Maybe Galvicron just thinks metal architecture is prettier than robot plants. Galvicron revealing himself was probably little more than showing up at public rallies and preaching what the people wanted to hear. That's pretty cut and dry.

In all of the stories, it is always you more than anyone who is picky and precise about tiny details. you've even been known to correct people in the middle of a story when they've made very minor and totally irrelevant errors, taking time to explain how and why it is wrong and what the proper details would be. The bottom line is that I am a big picture kind of guy, and you are a detail guy. So who better to come up with the details of Galvicron's take over than you? Just send Sidestory to me through PM before you post it and I can make revisions if I think they are needed. Vanquish's encounter with Galvicron will need to be a jointly written scene anyway to make sure they both stay in character, and everything flows in a direction we both approve of. One thing to note though is that Ares, Loki, Sephiroth, and Apocalypse are not technically Imperialtrons. They are allies of Galvicron, and if fact more highly trusted than anyone from Cybertron, but they do not belong to that political party. In fact, since Ares and Loki are gods, they do not answer to Galvicron. Their alliance is strictly voluntary. However, all of them have dominion over the Imperialtron armies, including Sephiroth. So, ol' Sephie has been known to command his own legion of troops, though he doesn't do this often, proffering to work alone. Only those few allies are aware of Galvicron's ULTIMATE plan, but the High Council is fully aware and aiding in the rest of the plot. So, I think I've given you plenty of information to work with, now the details are up to you.))

PS Once we work all this out, I hereby request that this all be moved to The Pit or something. This thread shouldn't be mucked up by discussion.

First, let me get something out of the way:

I only conditionally agree with that. If this story really is over and nothing more of interest happening between where I left off here, and where it picks up again in Dark Empire, then I consider this discussion to be feedback on my works. Which I very much appreciate and would like more of.

If we can figure out something more interesting to add, then yes, you're absolutely right, this discussion only serves to hinder the flow of the narrative.

Now, where was I? Oh yes, I had to take some time to think about what you said.

Because every time I do, I feel like I'm making this more My cybertron than Your cybertron. Already I feel quite guilty about it, with all my scenes exclusively being in a purely technological enviroment(no Technorganic scenery) and I don't think I even once referanced the sister planet sharing it's orbit(the Mall).

Once more that points to this story being stalled out or over, at least until such auditions go through.

It was established(by other posters who might just have been introducing a power creep into the story) in Dark Empire that Galvicron has somehow managed to build seven gold plated moons and fill them with Anti-matter. Not to mention that he's managed to 'birth' enough materials from himself to cage a star. Do you know how many SOLAR SYSTEMS would need to be destroyed to produce the raw materials for that? Nevermind the man power needed to construct such feats(just the moons alone). How Cybertron is still wealthy, happy, and oblivious after such galactic scale stripmining is boggling my mind. Constructions on such a glactic scale certainly would draw attention, so what ELSE has been done? They've had the time, and they do have the resources. How much of the Galaxy has been destroyed?

Thank you, that's another one that's nagging at me. It would demonstrate the kind of sway Galvicron has over the public to make them embrace sworn enemies so easily. Particularly when, and I might be reading this wrong, those same "sworn enemies" really haven't changed or reformed, they're just happy their targets are letting them take free shots now.

Thought I read they were. Not nessisarily people with beast modes, but the Jungle-Cybertron is gone(all the plants destroyed), and anyone who was reformatted by The Oracle was rounded up and "cleansed". My bad if I misunderstood. Personally I found that edge to be quite interesting.

Okay, the guy's appearance is, by Cybertronian standards, Satan Incarnate. Nevermind that, if I read his description right, he's on Scale Class C("Able to fit The Legend in his palm" or City-Former size. The Legend isn't that huge after all).

Yes, I like details. Details I find important. Without details I couldn't envision the big picture, let alone draw it. So I can't draw any further. I'm having a hard time envisioning further, with "things just are, because I say so" being more of how Virus opperates than how I do.

*whispers* Which would be why I tend to write my own stories rather than RPing these days...

Don't worry about that. As I said, if I ever have any issues with how things are being writen, it can be edited. Not only that, but because it has been perverted by Galvicron, it's not exactly "my universe" anymore, so to speak. The whole idea of having the story take place in my universe was that we would all be able to build on it. Of course there are certain things where I need to put my foot down and say "no you can't do that" or "No, this is how it is", but a lot if it is open.

Oh yeah, there might be a third planet in the area. Since Shopertaimentia is the shopping and entertainment capital of the galaxy, there is probably parking stucture planet near by to accomidate for all the ships that would otherwise be in orbit, no doubt clutering up the sky. "Yeah, parking structure planet!"

You've got me on some of that, I've been trying to figure out how to explain some of this stuff myself. Iactualy can explain how they destroyed enough solar systems to get the materials, but it is so crucial to Galvicron's ultimate plan for the universe that I quite simply cannot talk about it right now. Le'ts just say for now that it has to do with a... no, even that would be too much information. Sorry. I'm dying to say what it is, especialy since i can't figure out a few critical details about it, but I just can't.

They could have done their stripmingin in a rejion of the galaxy that is relatively unknown to Cybertron. We're talkign about the entire Milky Way Galaxy here, surely that's enough room for them to do stuff without people noticing. There is also the possibility of inter-galactic travel. Maybe they got resources from a neighboring galaxy? THAT would explain how no one noticed, they got it from another galaxy!

For the moons, i was actualy going to reveal that they were NOT made by Galvicron, but by Depth Charge. "Can you think of a better way to kill a demi-god than with 7 moon sized anti-mater bombs going off in your face at once?" How he got enough money to make those things beats the hell out of me. Gold is a natural miniral, so maybe somewhere in the galaxy, and we have all of it to deal with, maybe there is a planet or something that is naturaly made entirely of gold. Just because gold is rare on Earth does not mean it is rare everywhere else, does it?

Another easy way of getting around such details is to simply say "Loki did it." when all else fails, pin it on the gods.

There are three possible theories behind this, but I haven't worked out the third yet, which is probably the accurate one.
1: the people don't even know that Galvicron is working with their sworn enemies. The Cybertronians are oblivious to how Galvicron went about galactic conquest, so it is possible that if the Marro are not on Cybertron for example, then none of them know that they've become the grunt soldiers of Galvicron's army.
2: The Imperialtrons faked a war with the enemies, and won. No one knew they were working together before hand, and so think it is all simply a testament to Galvicron's greatness.
There is probably a third, and more complicated possibility, but I haven't worked it out.

That is one thing to note about Galvicron's empire. If we go anywhere other than Cybertron in this story, we will find that he is not so popular. The only comunity he is concerned with keeping happy and oblivious is Cybertron, while everyone else falls victim to his brute force. With such an iron grip though, if a Cybertronian ever visits these worlds, the people are forced to act like everything is wonderful for them, just as they do for the soldiers. I'm not sure why, but a Cybertron rebelion is the only one he worries about. everyone else is so totaly under his foot that they don't come off as threats to him.

We could keep that edge. I don't know how to explain it, but i'm sure we could come up with a way to explain it. Galvicron's real motives would be the easier to come up with, but the reason presented to the public would be far more difficult. Would be interesting to colaborate on.

Well, i'm thinking he might have size changing abilities. Perhaps he's only Armada Tidal Wave size on Cybertron, or smaller, and then can be even bigger than we saw him if it suits his mood. He is half god after all, I'm sure a shifting in mass is not beyond his abilities.

As for why they are so willing to accept a man that looks like Satan Incarnate, you win. I blew it on that detail. I was so focused on getting him to look horrifyingly evil that I didn't stop to think that there is no way in hell people are going to think he's the good guy and Optimus Prime is the wako tyrant. "My bad." This might be a good time to fall back on the old stand by theory: Loki did it. When in doubt, those three little words can bail you out of any loop hole. It's not the most compeling explanation, but it is the easiest and nut unbelievable.

I'll give you some actual feedback in the next few days. i'm too tired to think of them right now. Know this though, that I am really enjoying this story and it's characters and don't want to see it fall apart because i don't have a copy of Galvicron's check book. :thumb2:

Given that he's "your villian", it's still "your universe". You have final say in matters. Along with the power to be able to put your foot down, comes the responsiblity of... well basically doing the same.

Which makes me glad I never described the night sky(wait... did I? I might have to change that). Sounds pretty crowded up there.

Which ruins the idea that the Mall Planet has it's own vast parkinglots... which means I need to rewrite the scene where the Daughters of SoundWave portal off The Legend. Will do.

It'd set my mind at ease if you could. I'll wait.

If Daniel is right, also inter-universal travel. Which only boggles my mind more. Galvicron has gone from a single planet to an Empire rivaling Dreadnoughts in incomprehensiblity. In a very short time. Days if we were back on Rroo'tah.

"Money" is probably the wrong word for me to use. "Resources" is more what I meant. Even if enough raw materials could be found(and as you said, with a whole universe to explore eventually enough raw materails WOULD be found), there's still the issue of putting it all together. That takes transporting the raw materials, processing them, assymbling them... the shear number of jobs created for such an undertaking should show up somewhere. And if they got ALL their resources(including laborers) from another galaxy, why arn't we waging the fight in THAT galaxy?

Also, if Depthcharge intended all SEVEN bombs to be used on Galvicron, he probably should have put them closer together(or, if Star The Wanderers theory on them was correct, just detonated one of them ANYWHERE and wipe out the entire Universe, Galvicron with it). As established(by All Knowing Virus) the Moonbombs were put in random places that The Legend was most likely to arrive at as a trap created by Galvicron.

Well... we do have Virus along...

Both the two you have work, but have some holes. I'll wait for your third.

Which works for Dark Empire, but I can't think of any way to include it in Side Story.

At first it made sense. Cybertron was the heart of (if not the entire) the most powerful Empire he had referance to. He may have gathered all their foes together, but without Cybertron(and their allies) as the heart of HIS Empire, it would fall apart.

However, if he has such an iron grasp on so many worlds that the populace litterally can't even SHOW how badly their being treated to Cybertronians... what does he have to fear from Cybertronians? It doesn't make sense for him to be THAT powerful and still care at all what his public image is.

I could just blame this on power creep. It made sense at first, but now that more has been revealed it no longer makes sense because the reasoning originally used has been revealed to be no longer valid.

Publicly presented reasons shouldn't be that hard. We'll just have to do a little research into Nazi Germany to figure out how otherwise sane people could be convinced that a holocaust and genocide against a race/religion is a good idea. I can't wrap my head around it honestly, but it has a historical presidence.

Would also tie back into one of JaggedWing's comments. Back in his home universe the Great Reformatting was a Very Bad Thing. Those not Technorganic couldn't compete(simply didn't have the power), and those who were Techorganic were forced to compete with each other over limited resources. The Technorganics JaggedWing has dealt with turned to canabilism and brutality as they expanded off of Cybertron to Reformat other worlds in the name of the Oracle.

A very good point, however I would like to counter it with the question: Does he LIKE to be that big? If not, why was he when meeting with The Legend? If so, why wasn't he when bringing the Imperialtrons to power?

There might be other ways to figure out around this, without abusing Loki. You have a God do to much work to make something impossible, you start to wonder why they didn't just do it right and make it possible.

Off the top of my head... and this probably isn't a good one as I could use some sleep this week too... What does Galvicron transform into? If he turned into some kind of starship, armed planetoid, or something(which really is the ONLY thing I could think of him turning into, as even then he doesn't look like he can transform at all) he could have attended the ralleys in disguise. Heck, he could have hosted them when they were still small gatherings(which would give him a good reason to be in power). We couldn't have the disguise be to good, clearly Galvicron wouldn't be using a human android body for these gatherings(because if he did, why isn't he STILL using it?) but giving him an alt mode might work.

His first appearance would then have to have been a dramatic reveal. Something would have to have happened to nessisitate his revealing himself(as just appearing in all his fearsome glory would, at least in my mind, cause a bit of a panic and perhaps rioting as the end of days has come). Perhaps some disaster happened(or was arranged) and he transformed to save the day, showing that even though he looks like something out of your worst nightmares, he really is a good guy deep down and you should be ashamed of yourself for judging him on his appearance(a good line for his supporters to use against his detractors).

That makes for an interesting story, gives an explaination for something otherwise unbelievable, gives a chance to develope the characters involved, and is definetly the kind of detail that I'm looking for in order to continue this Sidestory! This is what I started this Sidestory for in the first place. Though mind you, it was to give explainations and development for Vanquish and co, not Galvicron and co.

I wouldn't worry about the story "falling apart" because it's meant to merge with Dark Empire. The problem is, I need to start picking out those details in between this point and that point and see which ones can be useful for telling more of the story, and which ones can't. When we get to the point that everything is so simple that it doesn't need to be told, then I've told all that needs to be and Sidestory can end so we can focus more on Dark Empire. I want this Sidestory to end, preferably soon, just not before it's time.

If its any help (and I doubt it is), I had never intended for Galvicron to be the master builder of those moon bombs. I make stuff up as I go along, based on long term plans, I was planning on making the bombs orginiate from elsewhere from a long time ago and then have it where Gavlicron found them and maybe was threatening to use them agaist other worlds. It was 'all-knowing' Virus who wrote that Galvicron was even connected to the bombs and that there was seven and they had been 'placed' to blow us up upon arrival. I'd only planned on making about 3 or 4 of them, and the one we found was the largest, hence why it was 'hidden', not placed to blow us to kingdom come. It was all supposed to be part of a mini-story invovling Hinara discovering an ancient mystery (Megatron had given me the go ahead on the most major plot twist I was going to apply) while doing some project or another for Megatron and the war. Seeing as I dropped from the story, my plans are now moot, though I thought I'd at least inform you all as to what 'my' plans with the moons were, seeing as I was the one who wrote them into the story. Maybe you all like them, maybe you don't. I don't care either way. Helps explain the economics behind the moons at the very least. But most importantly, I don't want to be miscredited with having given Galvicron 7 large moon bombs made of anti-matter, I just wrote the moon bombs in and never finished my plans.

Galvicron is working on something in secret. Something big. His project is near completion, and when he finishes it, it won't matter who is loyal to him or not. Nothing will matter anymore. That faining interest in the publics opinion was evident when he spoke with Loki. Galvicron didn't want Loki to waste his time erasing minds, because it doesn't really matter anymore. They still need to keep everyone in line, and the best way to do that is to keep the people oblivious and happy.

There could be another reason for why he doesn't want Cybertron rebeling. I'll have to thinkj on it though. I don't think it will matter for Sidestory though.

Ooh, I just got a great idea for this one, one that just popped in my head this very second is developing nicely as I type these words. What if the technorganics were not whiped out in a holocoust, but by a virus? A strange virus swept over Cybertron that infected the technorganics, and only the technorganics, and was so deadly that they either all died, or had to transfer to new bodies. Evweryone would simply write it off as one big tragedy. However, unbeknownst to the general public, but known to the higher ranking Imperialtrons, is that the virus was engeniered and controled by Galvicron himself. Since the technorganics were part of the will of the Oracle, and thus connected to the Orracle, he wanted to whipe out everyone with ties to the Orracle, so that she could not interfeer. THAT might work.

Of COURSE he likes being that big! What better way to show that you are large and in charge than by being the biggest baddest mo-fo in the galaxy? I'm sure he was that big during his rise, but perhaps he was not at all times, and would shrink down for convenience sake. That way he could fit into buildings and such desined for more nbormal sized people.

What if during some terrible event, Galvicron attempted to save everyone, and was left "scarred and deformed" by the event? For some reason it mutated his body into the terrifying state that we know today, and so no one fears him for his looks. They were unable to repair him, and his spark was too massive to transfer into another body, so he is stuck looking like Robo-Satan. We would have to drop the mass shifting aspect, but that's not a big deal.

This could also be used to explain why Depth Charge chose to rebel. Maybe he was at the cataclismic event, behinde the scenes, and discovered that the event was planned and constructed by Imperialtron forces under Galvicron's orders. Combine this with the reports he recieved from Barricade, and his loyalty to Prime, and you've got well reasoned and justified rebelion.

I was having another thought about why people rallied behind Galvicron and not Prime. (Well, technicaly this and the one about Galvicron becoming deformed was actualy my mom's idea, but that's not the point. she comes up with great ideas.) During one of the major rallies, possibly right after the cataclismic event, Galvicron can give a sturing speech. In the speech, he uses the lack of democracy against Prime. He can argue that Prime cares nothing for his people, as he wont even hear out their opinions. "Can you trust a man who doesn't even trust his own followers?" He can also promise to give the people more power and influence over policy, and somewhat restore democracy. Of course, the people have even less power under Gaslvicron's rule than ever before, but they don't realise it.

Of course, the people are heard out in Prime's empire, and their views and wishes do carry weight. However, the wishes of the masses are not the sole determining factor of what becomes law. This is because Prime and his Council know that sometimes, the vast majority wanting something doesn't always make it right. What if everyone on Cybertron voted to destroy Earth? Would that make it right, because the people wanted it? No, it would not. Having everyone say something is best doesn't make it so. Perhaps there were a few instances of such things taking place back when there was a full democracy. The wisest of Cybertron then realised that Democracy simply doesn't always work, and so restructured the government to counter balance that. Granted all of this happened a good 200 years before Sidestory even began, but it's still good backstory.

PS Sorry I took so long replying.

Might, might not. I'm betting not. If you come up with anything that would, keep us posted.

Not particularly original, as technorganics came about because everyone else was wiped out with a virus, and technorganics showed a surpisingly strong resistance to viral infections, but it could work. Fits reasonably well with Dreadnoughts addition(which brings in The Oracle). Also works with what I'm going for, as there might be a scattered few survivors of the plauge.

Correct me if I'm wrong here, but the way I'm reading Galvicrons personality, he seems more like the kind who would stand on the street ask them to open a window on the fourtith floor so he could talk to the board room eye to eye, rather than actually entering the building. Besides, if he was so willing to shrink down for convience, why would he insist his ships and throne room be large enough he can be huge with them? Seems building at that scale would be inconvient, particularly if he can shrink so easily.

Well, I don't see Transmutates picture being "scarred" but maybe "mutated" and definetly "deformed"...

The question then is what did he look like BEFORE? Were his now skeletal wings solar pannels for his alternate mode(which he lost in the event) that made him look angelic?

For that matter, did he intend to "deform" himself(shed the fake angel feathers on his wings because they itched, so to speak), or was it really an accident?

Works for me. Yet more wonderful details for a scene that originally was just going to be glossed over. Vanquish could be in on the cataclismic event, and we might even get a fight scene between him and Depth Charge.

Sounds like your usual politician, promising change and when they get into power they simply sink in deeper rather than making that change. Works nicely, I like it. You might have to write that speach for Vanquish to listen to however.

One note, not really about Sidestory, but JaggedWing was channel surfing looking for dissenting voices in the media broadcasts(scene ended before he finds any). Does Galvicron allow those at all? If so, does he just ignore them as laughable and accepts that there will be a percentage of the population that opposes him, or does he also control this 'opposition' by feeding them their 'counter opinion' as well? Or if he doesn't allow them at all, don't people notice there's not that 'devils advocate' out there?

Sorry, mission line for City of Villains, your villain has to save a WSPDR reporter because Lord Recluse likes having a voice of dissention. Makes him seem fair and keeps his people under control, so long as she doesn't step over the line(and in the final mission she does, and you have to shut her down).

First of all that should probably be written in past tense. I'm not sure.

Secondly, why wouldn't that make it right? I've never seen a good arguement to the contrary, people just assume "Having everyone say something is best doesn't make it so" and move on without questioning. Which in itself makes me more worried about the peoples moral judgement than their ability to agree on something.

Mind you, democracy assumes that the whole population isn't being mind controlled, but then again the Imperial system wouldn't protect against that either(infact it's even weaker against that sort of manipulation).