It was a massacre.
Even though the Hand boasted an army of rigorously trained ninja assassins, they were utterly powerless against the Transformers, living weapons of war forged for annihilation.
The Hand's famed stealth and assassination techniques, honed over centuries, were rendered useless in the face of Cybertronian sensor arrays and predictive combat algorithms that could neutralize them in milliseconds.
The Hand was being wiped out.
"What's happening?"
Daredevil tilted his head, trying to make sense of the brutal sounds echoing through the compound. His face was locked in stunned disbelief.
Elektra's voice trembled. "It's the Transformers… They're attacking the Hand… Oh God…"
It was an unprecedented slaughter. The ninja warriors, blades flashing and moving with lethal precision, managed only to scratch the metallic hides of the Cybertronian giants before being torn apart.
Daredevil's expression darkened. As the Hand's longtime nemesis, he had waged a relentless war against them for years. He had come to Japan to settle the score with the Hand's Five Fingers once and for all, only to find that someone far more terrifying had beaten him to it.
Five silhouettes darted toward the coastline, trying to make a desperate escape into the sea.
"You five old rats! Where the hell do you think you're going?!"
Megatron roared with sadistic glee as he stomped forward, crushing ninja beneath his feet like insects as he made a beeline for the fleeing leaders.
Dozens of Transformers had already converged on the scene. Their arrival was thunderous, inescapable.
"Damn it!"
The Five Fingers of the Hand bellowed in rage and desperation, unleashing their chi in wave after wave, trying to carve a path through the relentless assault. But it was too late. The Cybertronians had already surrounded them.
Despite their fierce resistance and the destruction of several Decepticons, they were ultimately overwhelmed, dismembered, and taken alive.
"Why?! We've never even crossed Martin!"
Madame Gao's blood-soaked face twisted in despair.
But it didn't matter.
The Hand, an ancient order that had existed for centuries, had met its end in fire and steel. Though remnants of their influence remained scattered across the globe, they no longer mattered.
Their severed, bloodied bodies were dragged back to Earth's Cybertronian base.
"Welcome, honored guests… the Five Disgraced Fingers."
Martin sipped a steaming cup of coffee, his calm demeanor chilling. Twin gemstones glittered on his hand, ornate and lethal. Sitting relaxed in his chair, he gestured casually toward the broken elders.
"Martin! We'll surrender! The entire Hand is yours!"
Murakami shrieked, his mutilated body writhing like a worm in an attempt to grovel. But the sight only made him more pathetic.
"The Hand's ninja? Trash. I could mass-produce a platoon of Transformers more lethal, more skilled in assassination and combat. I have no use for your warriors. I only want the Dragon Chi that flows through your veins."
Martin's pleasant smile sent shivers through the five elders. To them, it was the grin of the devil.
He raised his hand and wrapped his fingers around Madame Gao's throat. A powerful vacuum of energy surged from his palm as he devoured her essence, absorbing every last drop of her Dragon Chi.
"This is nowhere near enough," he muttered.
He turned to the others. One by one, he drained the remaining elders, ignoring their screams. By the time he finished, he had gathered the energy he needed.
Ding!
[Congratulations, host. Ancient Transformer unlocked. Reward: Transformer – Grimlock.]
Grimlock.
A Tyrannosaurus-shaped Transformer. A walking juggernaut.
...
[Grimlock]
Faction: Dinobot Division, Autobot Army
Personality: Reckless (Impact Power +20%)
Height: 16 meters
Energon Output: 8 million units
Status: Optimal
Combat Rating: Tier 3
Signature Quote: "Among the victorious, there is no place for the weak."
Evaluation: Commander of the Dinobots. Though reckless, Grimlock is no fool. He designed Computron, one of the most powerful Autobot combiners. Frequently defies Optimus Prime's authority, often challenging him in battle.
...
In the films, Grimlock was Optimus Prime's powerful steed. In the G1 animated series, he was created by Autobot scientist Wheeljack, combining Transformer CNA with Earth dinosaur fossils.
Martin chuckled. "Well, well. Look who it is."
Of course, if he had managed to summon a Predaking, that would've been even better, each one of those monstrous beasts was powerful enough to go toe-to-toe with Megatron. Riding one into battle would've been the pinnacle of dominance.
But Grimlock wasn't bad either.
The moment Grimlock materialized, he tilted his massive metal head to the sky and let out a guttural roar.
"I… Grimlock!!"
His feral eyes scanned the battlefield, until they locked onto one figure. Optimus Prime.
Disdain flared in Grimlock's gaze.
"Hmph. So, Optimus Prime… you're here. Then let's settle this once and for all. The one who wins gets to lead the Autobots."
Grimlock thundered forward, every step like a tectonic tremor.
He'd never liked Prime. That distaste was wired into his circuitry, an instinctual rebellion. Even in Martin's past life, Grimlock never obeyed Optimus. His loyalty lay with his own raw instincts. On the battlefield, he was a force of nature.
Megatron laughed darkly, stepping aside to give them room. His crimson optics gleamed.
"Wonderful. A dinosaur with fire. If you lose, Grimlock, the Decepticons will welcome you. You've got the spark of a true Decepticon."
"Get lost! I don't join anyone. Everyone else joins me!"
Grimlock stomped across the field like a walking mountain, a terrifying display of force and pride.
Martin couldn't help but grin. This dino was one of a kind, he'd barely arrived and already wanted a piece of Optimus Prime.
Some things never change.
Grimlock hated Prime. Every fiber of his being rebelled against him—in this world, just like the last.
First meetings always ended in a fight.
Optimus was silent for a moment. Then he reached over his shoulder and drew his massive sword. A casual swing discharged arcs of blue-violet lightning, ripping through the air with a thunderous crack.
BOOM!
He slammed the blade into the ground. Shockwaves rippled outward like a tsunami of power.
"You don't need to challenge me, Grimlock," Optimus Prime said calmly, releasing the sword from his grip. He took a single step back, his expression unreadable. "If you can lift this blade, I'll concede defeat."
Grimlock let out a thunderous laugh, his colossal 16-meter frame trembling with amusement. The ground shook beneath his feet as he jabbed one massive claw toward the sword embedded in the earth, then pounded his own chest with defiant pride.
"Me, Grimlock—not lift sword? Optimus Prime, you tiny tin can use it, then me no problem! You'll regret this!"
His voice was loud, raw, and full of disdain, the kind that echoed deep from within his spark. It was less a boast and more a challenge etched into his very programming.
Optimus shrugged in that measured, iconic way of his, offering a small gesture with one servo as if to say, be my guest.
Grimlock scoffed, the contempt in his optics flaring. Without hesitation, he reached out with both claws and seized the hilt of the sword. At that moment, a terrifying surge of raw force rippled through the air.
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