Shockwave: Logic will not fail...

Vari Williams had always been a man of reason. A data analyst by trade and a comic fan by passion, he loved dissecting the fantastical worlds of Marvel and DC, their characters, and their motivations. But, as logical as he was, he never believed those stories could exist outside the pages of fiction. That was, until the day he died.

It happened during a convenience store robbery. A stray bullet pierced his skull, and everything went dark. He thought that was it—oblivion. But then, a voice, deep and commanding, echoed through the void.

"You have two choices," it said. "Perish into nothingness, or live again, in another world."

Vari, a man who never backed away from a challenge, chose to live.

"Very well," the voice replied. "You shall be reborn in a world where Marvel and DC collide. But you will not return as yourself. You will inhabit the body of one who is logical beyond measure, ruthless in pursuit of his goals—Shockwave, the Decepticon."

Before Vari could even question what that meant, the voice faded, and he found himself plunged into a vortex of light and sound.

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Vari's consciousness reawakened in a surge of data streams, as if every cell of his being had been replaced by pulsating circuits and whirring gears. When his optic—yes, a singular, crimson-glowing eye—finally powered on, he was met with the desolation of an alien world.

The terrain was stark and lifeless, a jagged expanse of cracked stone stretching to the horizon. The sky above was a roiling swirl of dark clouds and violet lightning. Yet despite the grim setting, Vari—or rather, Shockwave—felt no despair. Instead, his mind buzzed with calculation, analyzing every aspect of his surroundings.

"Atmosphere: thin but breathable, if I was still Human," he muttered, his voice an even, mechanical monotone. "Resources: limited on the surface. Mineral deposits detected underground. Environment: hostile but survivable. Logic dictates immediate action is required for sustenance and development."

He took a step forward, the ground trembling under his immense weight. As his massive clawed feet left indentations in the brittle soil, Shockwave noted the efficiency of his movement. His joints operated with mechanical precision, his arm cannon hummed with latent energy, and his sensors scanned the terrain with pinpoint accuracy.

Looking down at himself, Shockwave marveled at his new form. A towering figure of metallic perfection, his dark, purple armor glinted menacingly under the brief flashes of lightning. His arm cannon glowed faintly with residual power, a weapon of unparalleled destruction.

"Shockwave," he mused. "A being of pure logic and efficiency. The irony is not lost on me—Vari Williams, a man of reason, now inhabiting the body of the very personification of logic and ruthlessness."

His optic dimmed slightly as he considered his situation. How had he ended up here? Who was the voice that offered him this new life? And why Shockwave? There were no answers—only the barren wasteland and the quiet hum of his internal systems.

"Logic dictates that these questions are irrelevant for now," he said aloud, his voice cutting through the silence. "Survival is paramount. A foundation must be built."

Shockwave wasted no time. His internal scanners had already mapped the planet's surface and identified key deposits of metals and minerals beneath the crust. He knelt, plunging his clawed hand into the ground. The soil and rock gave way easily to his immense strength, and soon he unearthed veins of iron and traces of energon—a power source he knew all too well.

Using his built-in engineering tools, Shockwave began constructing basic machinery. A mining drill was the first to take shape, crafted from scrap materials and powered by his arm cannon's energy. It was rudimentary, but it would suffice.

Hours turned into days as Shockwave worked tirelessly, unburdened by fatigue or the need for sustenance. He constructed automated drones to assist with mining, their sleek, spider-like forms scuttling across the rocky terrain. Towers of gleaming steel rose from the ground, powered by makeshift energon reactors.

As his empire began to take shape, Shockwave stood atop the tallest structure, surveying his progress. What had once been a barren wasteland was now a hub of activity. Mechanical constructs roamed the landscape, expanding his domain with relentless efficiency.

"Phase one complete," he said to himself. "The foundation is established. Logic dictates that the next phase must focus on expansion and defense."

It wasn't long before Shockwave's activities drew attention. His scanners detected an object entering the planet's atmosphere—an alien ship, sleek and golden, bearing the insignia of the Nova Corps.

"Unknown entity detected," Shockwave said, his optic narrowing. "Their purpose here must be determined."

The ship landed cautiously, its crew disembarking with weapons drawn. They were humanoid, clad in golden armor, their postures tense as they approached the towering figure of Shockwave.

"Halt!" one of them commanded. "Identify yourself!"

Shockwave stepped forward, his massive frame casting a shadow over the intruders. "I am Shockwave, ruler of this world," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "State your purpose."

The Nova Corps officers exchanged uneasy glances. "We detected unusual activity on this planet," one of them said. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

Shockwave tilted his head slightly, his optic glowing brighter. "Your questions are illogical," he replied. "This planet is mine by right of conquest. Your presence is unnecessary and unwelcome."

The officers tensed, their weapons aimed at him. "We can't allow you to expand unchecked," the leader said.

Shockwave's arm cannon began to hum with energy, the glow intensifying. "Then you leave me no choice. Logic dictates that threats must be neutralized."

Before the officers could react, a beam of searing plasma erupted from his cannon, obliterating their ship. The officers scrambled to return fire, but their weapons were no match for Shockwave's advanced defenses. One by one, they fell, their armor scorched and their weapons destroyed.

As the last officer lay defeated, Shockwave stood over him, his optic cold and unyielding. "Your actions were illogical," he said. "Your defeat was inevitable."

He turned away, leaving the smoldering remains of the Nova Corps ship behind.

Shockwave returned to his tower, his optic glowing with determination. The encounter had confirmed what he already suspected—this universe was teeming with factions, each driven by their own flawed reasoning. Heroes, villains, gods—they were all bound by emotion, by chaos.

"An empire of logic," he said, his voice reverberating through the chamber. "That is the only solution. Order must prevail. And I, Shockwave, shall be its architect."

As his drones continued their work, Shockwave began formulating a plan. Earth would be his next target—not for conquest, but for observation. Its factions, its resources, its potential—all would be analyzed and, in time, brought under his control.

For in a universe of chaos, only logic could endure.