The Energon Pub

It Burns! John H. Evans, Early December 2025

The next universe is poison to me. If I don’t adapt, my very atoms will rot. My ancient body will explode and then dissipate, roiling into the altered foam of space. I must remake myself, more radically than ever before. Not here, though. I’ll leave this universe and enter netherspace. The rebuilding will be indescribably complex. I can do it, though. I have untold amounts of ultra-processors in my hyperspatial stores. Some of the preliminary work can be done here: predictions, calculations, planning, contingencies and so forth. My children demand protection as well. They’re fully justified. I find a way to shield them. I stow their bodies in the proper niches, extract their sparks and consume them. It’s safer for them to live inside me while I undergo my most profound metamorphosis so far. I begin field tests, sending samples into the next universe to see what happens. The samples disappear without trace. This’ll be very tricky indeed! Never mind, a job’s a job and I promised to see it through.

Preparations begin but I’m uneasy. What is it now? I’m being watched. It’s neither my partner nor my friends. I’m surrounded by universes. They’re alive: more so since I cleansed them. I blazed a trail through each one (except a few, where I used proxies). I excised the evil parasites infesting them. Most of the universes are grateful and regard me as a friend. They’re concerned about me and my plans to root out further evil in stranger universes. They’re unsure if I’m right for the role. They’ve seen how ordinary matter is destroyed in the first new universe. Experiments continue. The old universes try to give advice. Their messages are hard to understand but I’m vastly experienced, so I see what they mean.

You may ask how I had time to clear the evil from roughly five million universes. In linear terms, the process took billions of years. However, I’ve never been restricted to linear terms. I’m a Lord of the Multiverse, operating in multi-dimensional time. From my perspective, I ‘disinfected’ all those universes simultaneously! It was quite a rush. The process became easier as I gained experience. Now, I intend to use that experience to flush the nasties from a clutch of ‘weird’ universes. This’ll be tougher, mainly because it’s difficult to know the universes’ internal processes. For example, I see objects that look like galaxies yet behave like zig-zagging insects or creeping slime moulds. It reminds me of a lawless place that I found long ago. It’s called the Evermaze. I never managed to plumb its depths. It was a maze of intersecting universes. I wasn’t allowed to operate there beyond sending in a scout ship. The entrance was concealed within my original universe. The Evermaze didn’t follow the rules as I understood them. I suspect that some of the ‘weird’ universes are part of the Evermaze. I’ll try to find the truth of that but my priority is the war on evil forces. The question is, can I identify and locate the evil forces in these ‘weird’ universes? Normally, this is my forte but here I’m not so sure. I thought that my Divine instructions were clear. Now, I doubt them. All I can do is keep studying the next universe and its neighbours, hoping to find the best ways forward.

“Don’t make us serve you in there.”

Ah, my long-suffering children are protesting.

“We can’t function properly in that toxic universe.”

They’re quite right. It wouldn’t be fair on them. I promise not to employ their services until I can ensure a suitable environment for them.

Alright, I’ve done my research super-quickly thanks to multi-dimensional time. Now, I can go into that crackpot new universe. I try to move but I seem to be stuck in netherspace. Why is this? Oh yes, I understand. It’s an illusion. I moved into the new universe but my normal sensors registered (wrongly) that I hadn’t. I must use the alternative sensors that I acquired from several previous universes. This situation is most disconcerting. I should stop and allow myself to acclimatise. I use my normal stopping procedures but they don’t work. I appear to be accelerating in random directions. I’ll use other methods to manoeuvre. How do I navigate here? I made detailed charts before I entered. They don’t correspond with any features that I see now. I’m certainly starting from scratch here. Nothing’s simple. Also, there’s a sense of profound discomfort. Some force has begun to attack my mind. Alright, priority one is self-defence. I can build new shields, reinforce myself inside and out. I must hurry. This mysterious force is tormenting me. I’m becoming emotional.

Anger takes over. It’s a fight for survival. I will win. In the blink of an eye, I mobilise trillions of technologies to beat back the noxious influence of this universe. This is one of my toughest challenges. If I can’t prevail, who can? One thing is clear: I’ll have to use every advantage this time. Ruthlessness will be my watchword.

* * * * *

Everything’s scrambled. I’ve never been in an environment that’s more screwed up. I can only rely on a few things. I have a basic personality and intellect. I have a limited range of memories. My ancient, short name is Groundbreaker. Long ago, I was a fast warrior on land. After that, I played many other roles. Eventually, I was killed in the line of duty. I was crushed into powder, along with thousands of comrades and allies. There was an attack by a dark god. He hit us with his arm, which was as wide as a continent and as massive as a moon. My spark returned to the Matrix field and I lived there in peace for untold ages. Now, I find myself back among the living. I’m not sure why. Apparently, our god Primus wants me for a new role. I can’t help him until I learn how to function in this miasma of confusion. Will he help me? I attempt to ask. Gradually, I open a telepathic link. There’s nothing but ‘static’ and manic emotion. Primus is genuinely struggling. I’ve never felt that before. He’s using all his energy to hold back the hurricane of dross with which this realm is assailing us. It looks like I’m on my own this time. However, I’m used to being self-reliant and hauling myself out of trouble. Patiently, I try to deduce what’s what. It feels like I’m floating around but perhaps there’s solid ground somewhere. I search.

* * * * *

Online.
Loading.
Loading.
Interference.
Unknown.
Diagnostic subroutine.
Unclear.
Overloading?
No.
Yes.
Reframe.
Name.
I am.
I am Overload.
A name.
Not a problem.
A short name.
For a complex person.
In a complex situation.
Circuits burning, here and there.
Try to shake out the flames.
Outcome?
Unclear.
Environment compromised.
Escape?
No path.
No plan.
Emergency.
Rapid exploration mode.
Move or die.
Full awareness required.
I was Overload, in times past.
I’m Overload again.
I was known for looking into the abyss.
Now, I’m in the abyss.
The chaos rages.
It wants to scatter my atoms.
My goal is to resist.
I seek advantage, of any kind.

* * * * *

This little predicament: I mean, wow! Talk about your all-encompassing doozy. Battered on all sides by abrasive fields and loopy feels! Even I’m taken aback and I’m a past master in confabulated dunderheadedness. I know that my old name is Tentakil. I used to get embroiled in dark, cloudy, opaque scenes back in the day, when telepathy collapsed and I joined the Decepticon army. There’s that same vibe now, only my intuition says that there’s much more going on here. I can break free from the dizzy, warped view of my surroundings. I need only find the way. I sense, I probe, I assess, I reflect. It's tough but give me time and I may yet wriggle my way to a better understanding.

* * * * *

A few of my children flounder in their new lives. They do no worse than I, despite their utter puniness. They shame me. I’ve been revealed as an ill-prepared amateur. This cannot stand! IT - CANNOT - STAND! I am Primus, irresistible spearhead of the righteous. I will prevail, whatever the elements throw at me. Whatever evil does against me. Whatever anything at all…

I hear a cacophony of bizarre sounds. Is it the dark gods? Are they laughing at me? I’ve fought them so hard, for so long. They were everywhere. Almost from the beginning, they dominated my life. Death threats came daily. Assassination attempts came weekly. I was forced to become a cosmic juggernaut of stupefying proportions, to ensure my survival and victories. It was my fate. It consumed me. Any life I had outside this white-hot trail of retribution seems withered to a pitiful, gossamer-thin husk. They took any chance I had of a normal life. They’ve led me here, to this infernal region of the multiverse. They’re roasting me for daring to oppose their dreadful ambitions.

I’d almost forgotten how it felt to fail. I’m trying all known methods to shield myself from the baleful aura of this universe. Nothing’s working. I’m experimenting with other ways, some of them being quite fanciful and unlikely of success. I’m desperate now, so I’ll try anything. Some of my tests collapse because my mechanisms are being eaten away by many types of erosion and corrosion. Will I die here, finally? Will this universe overwhelm me with relentless, mindless hostility? Is it truly mindless? There might be intelligence (or semi-intelligence) hiding behind it. I’ve been in those situations before. Whatever, this time it's worse than ever. I’m under siege like never before. My intuition says that there’s a fair chance I won’t escape. Alright, this calls for panic measures. Time to start lashing out!

* * * * *

Groundbreaker: enforced shutdown.

* * * * *

Overload: enforced shutdown.

* * * * *

Tentakil: enforced shutdown.

* * * * *

Groundbreaker: restart.

* * * * *

Overload: restart.

* * * * *

Tentakil: restart.

* * * * *

“What’s going on?!” demands Groundbreaker. “Hey, big guy! Any chance you could explain all this?” Suddenly, he’s back on his home planet Cybertron. He’s deeply grateful for the familiar landscape but the sky looks utterly bizarre and the vibe is off. The large Transformer in the middle distance rises, turns and approaches. His aura is overpowering. He’s glowing brightly. He’s about a hundred metres tall and towers over Groundbreaker.

“Hi kids!” he says in a loud, friendly voice. “Sorry about all this. I’m doing what I can to sort it out.” Groundbreaker is dumbstruck. He recognises the giant, although he’s never seen him like this.

“Father!” he says at last. “Umm, forgive me. I’m overcome with emotion.” He looks left and right. Tentakil and Overload are standing beside him. They’re also having difficulty coming to terms with meeting their creator.

“We lost consciousness…” says Tentakil, glancing around.

“Yeah, I did that,” says the giant. “Your ever-friendly Dad god, Primus, at your service! I had to deactivate you for a while. You would’ve died otherwise. Basically, I beat up this universe and transformed part of it into habitable space. The shockwaves generated were unprecedented and unsurvivable. Now, it’s all over and we can live here semi-normally.”

“I’m … I’m sorry!” stammers Overload in terror. “Whatever it was, I won’t do it again. I promise!” He’s so scared that he’s lost the power of rational thought temporarily.

“You did nothing wrong, Overload,” Primus reassures him. “You’re innocent. The problem, as always, is the evil in this universe. I’m working hard to find it and kill it.”

“It’s lovely to be back in our old bodies, in our home town,” says Tentakil. “Is there some task that we should perform? I’m guessing that there is, given that you’ve appeared to us like this. You’ve honoured us most highly by gracing us with your presence.” He even bows, like an ancient peasant.

“Smarmy as always,” says Primus. “Anyway, I have only one task for you at present. You should adapt yourself to this new environment. It’ll be extremely tough but you’re used to that. I have faith in you. There’s no set plan. Do whatever’s necessary to survive and even thrive.”

“Yes sir!” say the three Transformers in unison. This version of Primus shimmers and disappears.

“No, don’t go!” says Groundbreaker. He reaches forward in a vain attempt to touch his father god. He fails but his hand passes through the landscape. He’s confused for a moment but then retracts his hand rapidly.

“Damn, that burns!” he exclaims, dismayed. Tentakil and Overload are alarmed. They scan their surroundings, expecting danger.

“Fake, holographic scenery,” says Overload. “Why didn’t we spot it?”

“Plenty of reasons,” replies Tentakil. “Disorientation, forced shutdowns, top quality holograms, Primus intervention, lack of preparation…”

“Well, what now?!” yells Groundbreaker, aggrieved. He picks up a metal beam and uses it to test the surroundings. It sweeps through the holograms in a wide arc. There’s a hissing, crackling noise. He pulls the beam back inside this apparent safe zone, where they’re standing. The metal beam is fizzing, flaking and cracking. The area beyond the holograms has degraded it abnormally fast. Small pieces are falling off already.”

“Oh dear, he lied to us,” observes Tentakil. “He said that he’s in control of the situation. It seems to me that his control is marginal at best.”

“Give him a break,” says Overload quietly. “We’ve experienced some super-hostile universes before. We know how tough they are to handle.” He transforms to mini-base mode and settles down to wait. This is no time for action. It’s best to remain still and take stock.

“I bet that there’s no energon in here,” says Groundbreaker. “We’ll need to go back into stasis soon, to save power.” He throws the metal beam out of the area. The hissing and crackling resumes and then fades steadily. There’s no sound of impact with any surfaces beyond.

“It sounds like there’s nothing out there beyond our bubble,” comments Tentakil. “I surmise that we’re floating in space, although there’s gravity in here. Groundbreaker, let’s sit with Overload and think.”

“I’m still looking for an exit…” says Groundbreaker, stepping around Tentakil. He’s stopped after five metres. Tentakil has used his tentacles to seize Groundbreaker and hold him back.

“See sense, mech!” growls Tentakil. “There’s no way out. Don’t even think about digging a tunnel either!” Groundbreaker wants to argue but knows that it’s futile. He’s sick of inactivity but there’s no other good option. Reluctantly, he sits with his back to Overload and starts reviewing data.

* * * * *

Everything’s breaking down. My onslaught didn’t solve the problem. I believe that I did a lot of damage but I’m not sure. Some parts of the universe appeared to stop functioning, go dark, lose power: basically ‘die’. Other parts were smashed but kept working to a limited degree. Most parts had either minor damage or no damage. Violence failed because I don’t know the definition of violence here. What I call devastation turns out to be renovation in some areas. I’m dismayed but the mission continues. Now, I’m pouring all my energy into research. I’m experimenting on as many things as possible, in as many ways as possible. I’m doing laboratory work and field tests. Some of my facilities are destroyed quickly, before they can begin operating. Others achieve temporary or partial results. A minority work adequately. I keep building more test centres. It’s the only way forward. I’m committed to this grand mission. I’m dragging anything that I can grab into the test zones. I’m keeping records but even that’s hard because objects are often not what they seem. A pile of sand might turn into a cloud or electric current without warning.

I’m looking for patterns. Some things appear stable and unchanging. Some things change in a few ways only. The rest change too often, too unpredictably and in too many ways. The irony of all this burns me as much as the inescapable corrosion. I’m the father of the Transformer race. This universe has taken transforming to levels that are beyond insane. I’m not coping. I might have to withdraw in disgrace. Grimly, I continue my research. My reliable findings are almost drowned in a sea of unreliable, incomprehensible, slop data. The countdown to complete failure goes on. Tick tock! My days here are numbered. Eventually, there’s progress. I find items that resist corrosion. I gather them in hyperspace. I’m thankful that my teleportation still works. Without it, I’d be crushed like tinfoil. I search frantically for more of those items. I determine acceptable levels of protection and use the resistant items to build walls. I analyse the resistant items and try to duplicate or synthesize them. I make some progress but is it fast enough? Tick tock! There are some breaches and I continue to lose facilities at an alarming rate. I learn from my mistakes and unpredictable collapses. I improve my barriers. I place more of them around my key test sites. My rate of losses starts to reduce. There’s a flicker of hope but I can’t rest yet. These barriers may fail later. I need alternatives. My quest continues.

* * * * *

“Are you detecting any other Transformers nearby?” asks Overload.

“Seriously?!” says Tentakil. “Listen buddy, if I’d found any, I would’ve invited them over for a big energon party already.”

“Sorry, I was unclear,” says Overload. “My thoughts are disjointed. I’m not detecting any life forms at all. There should be some, at least. Primus doesn’t go into dead universes. His mission is entirely focused on universes with life.”

“You’re right,” says Groundbreaker. “We’ve always been able to detect life force. We’ve never been in a completely sterile universe. There should always be some kind of background emanations, at least.”

“Where are the sparks?” adds Tentakil. “We should be seeing astral images of little glowing spirits. Damn, this place is SO frakking alien! It boils my oil!”

“We need to have a séance,” says Overload. “We should try to coax the spirits out of hiding. They might be able to help us.”

“Little flitty frakkers,” says Groundbreaker. “I’m in. Let’s wrangle them up!”

“Agreed,” says Tentakil. “We must start somewhere. We have no better ideas.” The three Transformers pause their conventional analyses and prioritise a psychic search. Soon enough, they realise what’s happening.

“The sparks are SPLIT!” says Tentakil. “We didn’t find them because they’re not localised! They’re spread out, spaced apart, in millions of pieces!”

“Or aspects,” says Overload. “The dimensions are different here. We can’t get a clear view of sparks. They appear as diffuse fields of faint energy that isn’t distinctive.”

“I found a little scrap of spark,” says Groundbreaker. “I’ll try to bring it towards us.”

“Can you do that?!” queries Tentakil.

“Sometimes, when I put my mind to it,” replies Groundbreaker. “It’s a hidden talent that I don’t normally use or even mention.” He does his best to use that talent now. It seems to work.

* * * * *

Step by painful step, I’m building bases. Hope’s growing. I don’t have to maintain so many super-charged forcefields. My walls of native materials are working well. Corrosion is down to zero in some places. I’m adding extra layers of material to increase integrity and security. I’m shutting down test centres that aren’t performing well. There’s no point keeping them at great expense when the rewards have dried up. I’m consolidating my efforts in more productive areas. If only this universe stays calm, I’ll have a proper fixed foundation and the mission will succeed.

Of course, the universe doesn’t stay calm. Space twists, gradually at first, then steadily. For a moment, I’m unsure why this is happening. I’m incredibly distracted right now. I look into it and find three of my Transformers holding a séance! This is the key. Groundbreaker is trying hard to see spirits clearly. He doesn’t realise what he’s set in motion. He’s bending dimensions on a local level. This has set off a chain reaction. In most universes, it wouldn’t happen. Unfortunately, this place is an exception. The reshaping of dimensions is spreading in an immense wave, travelling in all directions. I can tell that this is a major event. It continues indefinitely. It reaches my test sites. They’re all rearranged in moments. My new barriers are broken. My facilities are, once again, exposed to the hostile elements. They soon begin to fail. I’m too late to prevent this calamity. All I can do is try to rescue whatever I can and reinstate some barriers. It’s exceedingly difficult because, with a new dimensional configuration, everything is arranged differently. I may lose it all here. I don’t know if I can hold it together. I’m terrified and furious at the same time. This isn’t like me! I’m usually serene and unfazed. This place has fazed me! It’s a hell hole, the likes of which I’ve never experienced. My response is to dig in and resist even more fiercely. My unquenchable spark flares hotter than before. I take inspiration from my surroundings. If this universe is so corrosive, I will be likewise. I’ll burn through all obstacles before me. I’ll be caustic to the core. My Transformers will be similar. They won’t let scruples get in the way.

* * * * *

Days pass. I’m in recovery mode. The dimensional flip was one of my largest setbacks. I won’t be making much progress for a while. Having said that, the new view of the universe is somewhat easier to comprehend. My senses are adapting faster. I’m recognising things easier. I’m finding resources sooner. I thanked Groundbreaker, Overload and Tentakil for their inadvertent assistance. They’re proud of themselves. They’re keen to achieve more. All in good time, kids! You’ll have your chance.

The universe itself is still a great mystery. Although there’s been a fundamental reorganisation of the dimensions, normal processes are still occurring as before, except folded a different way on one level. I’ve never seen that before. I was expecting total pandemonium but I’m seeing orderliness. More patterns are emerging daily. I found some natural force conduits that could be very useful. I hypothesise that objects could travel along them at great speed. The conduits converge on a single small area, which might be a solar system. I’ll be examining that area very closely soon. I could use it to bring together people: friends, enemies or both. I share this plan with my three children, the ‘G-O-T Trio’ as I dub them.

“We can’t wait to eliminate more scumbags,” says Tentakil. “We’ll teach them that they’re not safe, even in a nasty, twisted universe like this.”

“And what if the innocent get caught in the crossfire?” asks Groundbreaker with a grin.

“We don’t have time to worry about that,” says Overload. “The mission comes first. Conditions are so bad here that mercy is a luxury.”

“It’s like I said from the beginning,” adds Tentakil. “If the innocent get in harm’s way, that’s their lookout. It’s our job to clear a path and then fight the foes!” They all laugh heartily. Tentakil is pleased that the others agreed with him for a change.

Once we get ourselves on a solid footing, we’ll start our campaign and have a lot of fun. Watch out, people: Primus is coming to get you!