When the Autobots and Decepticons crash-land on Rubicon, humanity's leaders see them not as potential allies or invaders but as existential threats. These alien machines, capable of immense destruction and unprecedented adaptability, threaten to des...
The wastelands of Rubicon stretched endlessly under the dim light of its twin suns, a barren expanse of jagged dunes and shimmering Coral deposits. The air was heavy with tension, disturbed only by the distant hum of Armored Core engines prowling the terrain.
Windflare crouched low in the shadow of a weathered rock formation, its once-pristine red and white frame now dulled by sand and scorch marks. Every servo in its body was frozen in silence, its systems running on minimal power to avoid detection.
"They'll find me soon," the Autobot muttered to itself, glancing at the faint shimmer of Coral energy radiating from a nearby deposit. Its blue optics flickered with desperation. "I just need time... time to figure out how to get off this cursed planet."
Above, the skies churned with the faint glimmers of search drones. On the horizon, a squad of Armored Cores moved in a disciplined formation, their Coral-powered thrusters leaving trails of glowing dust in their wake.
"Any sign of the target?" crackled the voice of the lead pilot, her tone sharp and clinical.
"Negative," another replied. "But the scans show traces of alien energy in the sector. It's here somewhere."
The lead pilot adjusted her mech's sensors, her cockpit bathed in the cold glow of tactical displays. "Keep your eyes open. This isn't just about the bounty. Corporate wants whatever's in its core. Don't let it slip through."
Windflare clenched its fists, the metal joints grinding softly. The Autobot had hoped to find refuge on Rubicon, a desolate world already consumed by humanity's greed. Instead, it had found a war machine—a planet ruled by ruthless corporations and mercenaries who saw sentient beings as nothing more than resources to be exploited.
The ground trembled slightly as one of the mechs drew closer. Windflare's sensors detected the faint energy signature of a Coral blade, its hum resonating through the air. The Autobot held its breath, every system focused on maintaining absolute stillness.
"I've got movement," one of the pilots said, their mech swiveling toward the rock formation. A spotlight flared to life, bathing the jagged stones in harsh light.
Windflare's optics darted toward an escape route—a narrow canyon cutting through the dunes. If it transformed, it might have a chance to slip away before the squad closed in. But the risk of detection was too great.
"Hold your position," the lead pilot ordered. "It's playing coy. We flush it out now."
The first missile struck just to the left of the rocks, sending a shockwave rippling through the ground. Sand exploded into the air, scattering in thick clouds. Windflare leapt from cover, transforming mid-air into its vehicle mode and tearing across the wasteland in a desperate burst of speed.
"There it is!" the pilot shouted. "All units, engage!"
The Armored Cores roared to life, their thrusters flaring as they gave chase. Windflare swerved and accelerated, its tires kicking up clouds of Coral dust. The Autobot weaved between jagged outcroppings, dodging incoming fire as explosions erupted around it.
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