Brotherhood

Cracking sounds came as a new Optimus Prime slowly assembled, countless new parts forming and covering his body.

Donnie had entrusted S.H.I.E.L.D. with simple repairs to Optimus Prime. For whatever reason, they only restored his missing components and took no further action.

When S.H.I.E.L.D. first contacted Optimus Prime, Donnie had already noticed, but he merely watched silently. After the simple repairs, S.H.I.E.L.D. stopped—either out of caution regarding Donnie or because they'd obtained valuable intel and saw no need to provoke him.

Optimus Prime shed his battered appearance, merged with the motorcycle, and faced the world in a new body.

Donnie was about to go on a killing spree.

This universe ran too deep. He had no time to haggle with countless factions, big or small. Better to strike hard in one battle, make them feel the pain, and crush the petty organizations for good.

Two Gatling Guns assembled, their muzzles gleaming coldly as they aimed at the pursuers. People seemed to see countless souls wailing within.

"Kill him now!"

Someone screamed in terror, raising a gun to fire.

Optimus Prime spun up both Gatling Guns, unleashing a storm of bullets like the whisper of death itself, mercilessly reaping lives. Anyone in his path was sent to the afterlife—none could survive.

The roar was deafening.

Every bullet bloomed into a gorgeous spray of blood, painting brilliant flowers in the air, accompanied by shrill screams and the sneer of death.

People tried to fight back, but they couldn't bring down Optimus Prime. In the end, they fell.

The alley became a slaughterhouse, piled high with corpses and blood. The narrow terrain sealed many fates—they couldn't charge forward, couldn't flee. A few mutants who had slipped in were wiped out before they could even use their powers, dying helplessly.

The thick stench of blood lingered in the wind, driving the vampires lurking in the shadows nearly mad with hunger, their growls filled with craving!

But they feared the sun, dared not expose themselves to its light, or they'd turn to ash. They could only stir restlessly in the darkness.

The ground was littered with mangled remains—hard to find a single intact body.

Clap. Clap, clap!

Someone walked out slowly, applauding. His tone was playful, appreciative. He now had a real understanding of Donnie's ruthlessness. This was the kind of man they needed.

"And who are you?"

Donnie panted. The excessive strain had not only exhausted his body but sent stabbing pain through his skull, nearly driving him mad.

"You can call me Red Devil. I've been ordered to fetch you," the man said, stepping out of the shadows. His red skin was striking, giving him the look of a demon from hell.

The name Red Devil fit perfectly.

Donnie frowned, making Optimus Prime take a step forward as a warning. He didn't trust Red Devil.

"Did Magneto send you? I thought Professor X would be the first to come for me," Donnie said.

"You were born to be on our side—no doubt about that," Red Devil said. "Charles is too cautious. He was the first to discover you, the first to help you, but not the first to meet you face to face. He's too careful. Your personality seems to have given him doubts."

Donnie seized the chance to recover the AllSpark, happy to stall for time. He pressed for more details. Shouldn't Professor X have rushed to bring him to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters?

Red Devil smiled and explained plainly. Professor X had sensed Donnie the moment his ability awakened—a Level 4 Mutant from birth. It had shaken him.

He was the one who contacted S.H.I.E.L.D. to save Donnie.

He was the one who warned S.H.I.E.L.D. not to mess with Donnie.

The New York streets were the heart of the battlefield, the focus of both official and military attention. If Professor X had snatched Donnie on his own, it would have been a declaration of war against the government, breaking the unspoken rules—a mutant leader meddling in internal state affairs.

Not to mention that no faction would allow him to gain another Level 4 Mutant. The threat was too great, beyond anyone's tolerance.

Donnie demanded to know why Magneto had come for him without caring about the consequences.

"Since when did Erik care what the authorities think?" Red Devil said.

Donnie fell silent. For a moment, he almost understood certain organizations' perspectives.

Just how strong were Professor X and Magneto? Most people, even those inside their factions, only knew them as "extremely powerful." But how powerful exactly?

No one knew. They were supposed to be formidable—far stronger than Level 3s.

Donnie knew better than anyone in this world. These two were unreasonably strong.

Professor X possessed Psionic Ability—a power that bordered on godlike.

Mental strength could easily alter or implant memories, turning people into loyal slaves for life. Paired with the right equipment, it could wipe out half of Earth's population in an instant!

The authorities had officially classified Professor X's brain as a weapon of mass destruction, because that tiny brain was absurdly powerful—baffling and terrifying.

Magneto, as one of the two poles of mutantkind, wielded control over all magnetic fields, turning the entire planet into his personal playground. Humanity's modern achievements were a joke before him. Guns, missiles, even Nuclear Bombs—anything involving metal was just a toy in Magneto's hands.

Magneto might seem more vulnerable to targeting than Professor X, but he could manipulate the global magnetic field, flip a continent, trigger a worldwide tsunami, and rewrite human history.

The two poles of mutantkind were incomprehensibly strong—powers that could shake a civilization. They inspired fear in countless people and fanatical worship in others, spawning a wave of institutions dedicated to studying mutants, trying to crack their secrets and become gods themselves.

Fortunately, Professor X and Magneto were rivals. One was a moderate protecting the world and cooperating with authorities; the other was a hardliner bent on eradicating ordinary humans to build a mutant world. They clashed constantly, maintaining a fragile balance that let everyone breathe.

But if Donnie—a Level 4 Mutant from awakening—joined the fray, that balance could shatter. No one wanted to see that.

Truth be told, Donnie had no desire to get caught in the power struggle between these two titans so soon. Whichever side he joined, he'd be helpless against the other.

Could he withstand Professor X's mental power? He'd be crushed to dust.

As for Magneto? Even more terrifying.

Donnie's AllSpark ability let him create Transformers—lifeless constructs firmly under his control. If he ever got his hands on the Mind Stone or something similar, he might ascend to become a creator, granting them intelligence and souls. But for now, he was far from that.

Running up to Magneto with a bunch of metal constructs and acting cocky? Maybe if Donnie had unlocked some new potential from the AllSpark, he might have a chance against Magneto, but right now he's just walking into a slaughter—crushing him would be way too easy.

"Your choice?" the Red Devil asked.

"I want to know where Magneto is." Donnie was stuck between a rock and a hard place, forcing the words out.

The Red Devil grinned. "Erik personally led a team to intercept Professor X. Normally, the X-Men would be the ones coming for you, not me."

The Red Devil was pushing him to decide.

Donnie caught on instantly.

"Then... let's go check out your place first." Donnie said slowly. "But I haven't decided to join your Brotherhood yet—don't get the wrong idea. I just want to talk to Erik."

The Red Devil kept grinning without a word, reached out and grabbed Donnie's shoulder, then touched Optimus Prime, who had transformed back into a small truck. He activated his space-warping ability, and with a pop, the two vanished.