Facing his own speculations, Tony could hardly imagine it.
At most, he'd ever had a few hundred suits of Iron Man armor—and those were only for security at Stark Tower. Later, they were all destroyed during the Ultron incident.
But compared to terraforming a planet? That was nothing.
To reshape an entire planet… how many Transformers would it take, working tirelessly? And what was that massive surge of energy from that day?
The thought struck him hard, and Tony immediately grabbed his phone.
"I need to call Lorien."
...
Meanwhile, a Transformer who had crushed the reconnaissance module with a single palm dismantled Tony's spacecraft and carried it to Cybertron.
He delivered it to the Elders and the Ballerina Twins, reporting,
"A craft from Earth."
The Collector overheard.
"Cybertron exposed to Midgard? That backward planet, not even unified, has the ability to detect Cybertron?"
In his view, Midgard was indeed primitive. And he wasn't wrong. A planet with hundreds of nations, still divided, and not even capable of sending manned missions beyond itself.
If that isn't backward, what is? A barren backwater.
If they truly had the means to detect Cybertron, wasn't it no different from India building its own drones to steal secrets from America? What an embarrassment that would be for Cybertron.
At that, the descendant of the Transformers added,
"According to hardware scans, it wasn't launched by a national entity on Earth, but by a private one: Stark Industries. Tony Stark's personal satellite."
"Yes."
Through hardware scans and data cross-referencing, the Transformers had immediately determined the launch point, the sender, and its purpose.
But the Collector was even more stunned.
"A private entity? A private satellite?"
Wasn't that even more humiliating? Cybertron discovered by a single individual, who then sent a craft to investigate?
No, what embarrassed him wasn't the craft itself. It was the fact that its very origin proved someone had already noticed the anomaly on Mars. That was why the craft came.
And yet none of them had realized it! No preparation, no awareness—and suddenly, a probe right at their doorstep! How could that not be shameful?
But when the Ballerina Twins heard the name Tony Stark, they found it perfectly reasonable.
They looked at the Transformers and the Collector and explained,
"If it's Tony Stark, then it's no surprise."
"He's one of the Master's few friends."
"The information was inferred from the Master."
"You don't need to worry."
"Everything is under the Master's control."
At those words, the Collector had a sudden realization.
No wonder. So he was a friend of the Creator in Midgard.
Wait. The Transformers' Creator… in Midgard? On Earth?
So the Creator was this close? Was He living out retirement on Earth?
The Collector had always assumed the Creator of the Transformers was some cosmic deity who slumbered for centuries or millennia. But to think He actually resided on Earth!
Oh~~~~!!!
Now he understood! This must be cultivation of the spirit!
The Creator of the Transformers possessed infinite might, even the power to bring them into existence. So He must be seeking amusement within His eternal life!
After all, the Transformers had defeated Thanos, yet the Creator never appeared. What did that show? Thanos? Nothing! Not even worth His notice!
The realization made the Collector tremble with excitement.
Creator, oh Creator, how truly magnificent!
Despite possessing limitless power, He chose to live quietly among such a primitive civilization, befriending mere mortals!
The Collector could only assume—the Creator had never revealed His true strength. For none could possibly surpass Him.
That meant, when He chose friends, their strength was irrelevant. After all, no one could compare to Him.
If so… this Tony Stark truly had nothing to fear. He could be mistaken—but could the Creator possibly be mistaken?
Right?
With the Ballerina Twins' explanation, the matter was settled.
The Elders asked no further questions. After all, the Ballerina Twins had declared everything under control.
...
Meanwhile, Lorien was out shopping with his two wives.
The trio strolled through the streets of Egypt's tourist district, passing souvenir stalls, gift shops, trinket vendors, food stands, and more.
But none of that mattered.
Because just ahead, they saw someone pulling in tourists with a pitch:
"Want to climb the pyramids? Want to explore inside? We've got tours—three days, two nights, and you can even sleep inside the pyramid!"
The mention of sleeping inside the pyramid caught attention. Some Western tourists even asked if it would extend their lifespan.
Well, since they asked, the guides nodded vigorously.
"Yes, yes, yes! Of course it can!"
Before long, quite a few tourists actually signed up for the pyramid tour.
Gwen looked puzzled.
"What's so interesting inside a pyramid? Isn't it just rocks?"
Lorien shrugged.
"You've never seen it before, so it feels special."
That was true.
People living comfortably often grew curious about things they hadn't seen, eager to experience what they hadn't lived through.
It was a pyramid, after all. Climb up, snap some photos, post them on TikTok. That'd rack up plenty of likes, wouldn't it?
The three kept walking through the scenic streets.
Tourist spots all had the same formula, really—just different themes or merchandise.
Here in Egypt, most goods were handmade: jewelry, souvenirs, small crafts.
Food options weren't as common. Lorien glanced at the local dishes with the two girls, but in the end, they decided not to try them. No appetite.
As they walked on, Gwen scanned her surroundings. Her lips pressed together as her gaze landed on one spot.
"Hmm?"
Lorien noticed immediately.
In truth, he didn't even need to look—he could already sense the unease in Gwen's heart.
He followed her gaze.
Behind the tourist streets, wedged between crumbling, earth-toned buildings, sat people with sallow faces.
Some sat idly, doing nothing. Others were skeletal from hunger, ribs protruding, eyes vacant.
Wanda also looked over.
When she saw it, she let out a quiet sigh.
Here was a tourist hotspot.
But right there, just beyond the wall, was a shadowed corner that felt like a disaster zone.
Tourists from across the world flocked here, each carrying wealth in their accounts that to the locals would be unimaginable.
Even Lorien, Gwen, and Wanda were no exception.
Separated by a single wall. Yet worlds apart.
Could this disparity really be considered normal?
Of course not.
Their country had been the plundered side during global economic development. Now, most of the tourist nations were European or American.
But those same countries had once been colonizers—looters.
From a global perspective, those nations were in the wrong, guilty of exploitation.
But from the perspective of their own citizens… all those colonizer nations were now developed. Nations whose economic strength could easily overwhelm others.
So in comparison, yes—other nations saw them as wrong. They had plundered, invaded, colonized.
But to their own people?
They had been absolutely right.
We get to live well first.
As for other continents? We'll crush you again if we must.
Lorien shook his head slightly and spoke softly to Gwen.
"This is the result of the environment and the world order."
"Even if we gave them money, it wouldn't change anything in their situation."
"As long as the environment doesn't change, more people will end up just like them."
He spoke not just to answer her, but to broaden her perspective.
To the average person, the poor are that way because they don't try, don't work, don't learn.
But in the bigger picture, it's because their country lacks schools, jobs, international standing, and a stable economy.
In short—it's the environment.
And in such a harsh environment, for one person to rise, climb to the top, and sit among capitalists as an equal… was no different from scaling Everest with bare hands.
At that, Gwen was still quiet.
But Wanda clasped Lorien's hand and nodded firmly.
"Mm."
That single sound carried heavy weight.
Gwen turned to look at her.
Right.
Wanda's homeland, Sokovia—a tiny nation.
Not as poor as here, but still without proper education or healthcare, and constantly caught in the crossfire of war.
Later, it was completely destroyed by Ultron.
Out of all her people, only Wanda had managed to break free and achieve something.
And even then, it was because of magic—not mortal flesh and blood.
So…
Gwen nodded deeply.
"I understand, Lorien."
Lorien smiled, reaching out to ruffle her hair.
"Good. In society, many are trapped by circumstances beyond their control."
"That's why I've said before: true strength isn't doing whatever you want."
"It's having the freedom to choose not to."
The moment he finished, both girls fixed their eyes on him.
Their gazes sparkled with admiration.
Lorien saw it clearly.
"Didn't I say that before?"
Wanda and Gwen shook their heads at the same time.
"No."
"Alright, then I must've forgotten."
Lorien shook his head and kept walking.
"Come on, let's look around a bit more before heading back.
"As for these people, even if you hand them money, you'd just be harming them."
Gwen understood. But seeing it with her own eyes still left her feeling uneasy.
So she took out her phone, snapped a quick photo, then turned to Lorien.
"Then can I at least buy them some bread?"
Lorien nodded.
"That's fine."
"But make sure they don't see your bright and shiny side."
"Some people can endure darkness only because they've never seen the light."
At those words, both Gwen and Wanda shivered.
Another line worth remembering...
Gwen gave a firm nod. She went to a nearby stall, bought a few bags of bread, then silently leapt up to the rooftop.
Looking down at the lifeless figures below, she sighed softly.
Then she gently tossed the bread down.
She divided it among the elderly and the children, making sure each got something.
Within seconds, the bags landed with soft thuds near them.
The moment they saw the bread, the old ones struggled to their feet, snatching it up and clutching it as if it were treasure.
The children, while taking their share, still looked upward toward where the bread had fallen.
But all they caught was the last glimpse of long hair turning away.
Only then did they lower their heads, hugging the bread tightly as they ran back into the corners.
The elders, meanwhile, had already begun eating.
The difference between the two—the children and the elderly—reflected the contrast between new beginnings and approaching ends, each with their own attitude toward the future.
When Gwen returned to Lorien's side, her mood was heavy.
After all, she'd just witnessed something bitterly sad—and worse, she was powerless to change it.
And that was the hardest part. She was a superhero. Yet she still couldn't do anything.
Lorien reached out and ruffled her hair.
"When placed inside a collective, the strength of an individual really does become insignificant… unless you're strong enough to surpass the collective itself."
Gwen nodded in full agreement.
Wanda glanced at her, saying nothing, but reached out to ruffle her hair as well.
Yet Lorien's words carried enormous weight.
To reach the kind of strength he described, one would need at least Sky Father–level power.
Not even a Skyfather might be enough.
Otherwise, would Thanos have failed?
But no matter what—
Today's reality had taught Gwen the truest lesson.
She'd seen the essence of society, and of groups.
Of course, they were still out shopping. There was no reason to stay unhappy.
The three walked on and eventually came to a handicraft shop.
They had only meant to pass by.
But when Gwen and Wanda both glanced at the crafts inside, they were simultaneously drawn to a particular piece of jewelry.
Lorien turned to look.
It was something like an ancient sheer veil—light and breathable, hooked over the ears, leaving only the eyes visible.
Except here, it was made of a very light metal. Thin cords threaded through the pieces of metal, forming a delicate metallic veil.
It was beautiful. Unique, too—something you wouldn't find elsewhere.
Seeing the way both women stared, Lorien chuckled. He pinched their cheeks playfully.
"What are you staring at? Just buy it."
Consider it supporting the local economy.
He bought both veils on the spot, then personally helped each of them put theirs on.
The whole process took only a few minutes.
When he stepped back and admired them, Lorien nodded with satisfaction.
"Beautiful."
No exaggeration—wearing the veils gave them a distinct exotic charm.
Especially with their striking eyes, the veil only enhanced the beauty of their gaze.
Making them all the more captivating.
"Hehe~~"
Hearing his praise, both women lit up with joy.
The gloom from earlier was swept away in an instant.
"Come on, let's browse a bit more before heading home."
Lorien waved his hand, leading them forward.
"Beep beep~~"
But just a few steps later, his phone rang.
He pulled it out—it was Tony Stark.
He answered and raised it to his ear.
"Hello."
"Lorien… uh, sorry to bother you so late."
"Then don't waste time apologizing. Out with it."
"Alright, my bad. I'll be direct. My craft approached Mars, and through the electro-optical telescope I saw black terrain, patches of green, blue dots, and a lot of moving shadows."
Tony paused, then went on.
"Those shadows must've been lifeforms. I was about to investigate further, but my instruments started getting jammed. Right before the feed cut out, I saw a massive steel hand grab my craft. Then the screen went black."
"Okay, what I'm saying is… if I didn't mistake it, those were Transformers?"
Tony had circled around long enough, but finally asked the crucial question.
Were they really Transformers?
If so… then that was that.
Ahem, that was indeed the case.
Tony didn't intend to press further—Lorien always had his reasons.
Besides, with so many Transformers, if they'd wanted Earth destroyed, they could have done it long ago.
So why were they still lingering around Mars?
...
(50 Chapters Ahead)
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