#transformersmeta

aka what happens when the god of chaos tries to parent

Quintus Prime is the most misunderstood of the Thirteen. Not a warrior. Not a judge. Not a leader. He was the Seeker — the one who wanted life in all its forms.

But what happens when the drive to create outpaces the wisdom to guide?

That’s where the Emberstone comes in — and it changes everything.

🧬 The Emberstone — Artifact of Chaos, Not Order

The Emberstone is framed in EarthSpark as a source of miraculous life, used to birth the Terrans. But its deeper roots are mythic:

It’s Quintus Prime’s relic — the tool of a Prime who believed in evolution through chaos.

It doesn’t spark clean Cybertronian life — it creates hybrids, echoes, fractures.

It is unstable. Fractured. Sentient? Selective.

The show never asks: Did the Emberstone truly give life? Or did it replicate spark-like functions by pulling from emotional projection?

And more hauntingly: was it corrupted — or always like this?

Because even its fragments (used by Mandroid) still generate beings with partial life — failed Terrans like Spitfire.

Maybe the fragments weren’t corrupted. Maybe this is the true nature of the stone: life born in pieces.

Earlier discussion proposed that the Emberstone may function as a semi-sentient program, or even a psycho-reactive AI. It appears to have behavioral intent — it chooses, it responds, it resists fragmentation.

Some theories suggest the Emberstone once attempted to consume the soul of Quintus himself, absorbing parts of his will, or being warped by his inner chaos.

So the question arises:

Did the Emberstone ever have a soul of its own — or is it a vessel, possessed by fragments of Quintus, or others?

Perhaps it ate a soul to simulate one. Perhaps it never had one — only code.

And if the Emberstone is a mirror of its creator, then it’s not just chaotic — it’s psychologically fragmented.

The instability of the Emberstone isn’t simply mechanical. It reflects the unresolved psyche of Quintus Prime:

A longing to create, without structure.

A curiosity for life, without ethics.

A need to explore, without returning home.

But maybe it goes deeper:

Quintus could have been a parent — but lost his children.

He was lonely. He did not feel like he belonged among the Thirteen. He was the most alien, the most distant — a Prime who hid his true nature, even his appearance, behind myths or masks. He was a Prime of shifting forms and elusive truths.

Some theories suggest the Emberstone was not just a tool of creation, but a grief-born mechanism:

A way to recover, replace, or resurrect lost children.

The Terrans are only the latest attempt.

They are not the first. Others came before. And the evidence? It's in the show's implications:

Mandroid's use of Emberstone fragments to create monstrous life.

The Chaos Terrans.

Spitfire as a malformed attempt to echo Twitch.

The battle over the Emberstone’s pieces as a battle over control of chaotic life.

What happened to earlier creations?

They died.

They turned on one another.

They became tools of conquest.

Or they were hunted, consumed, or rejected.

And some — like Bludgeon — may be the survivors.

🔥 Bludgeon — Enforcer or Heretic?

Bludgeon is no ordinary villain. His obsession with power and order — and his pursuit of the Emberstone — suggests something deeper.

Some interpretations propose:

Bludgeon may be connected to Quintus Prime — either as a former creation, servant, or destroyer.

He could be a guardian turned renegade, assigned to destroy or contain the Emberstone’s influence.

Or worse — he may be the result of an older failed project. A Terran prototype forged for battle.

If so, his mission may have been:

To purge corrupted children.

To destroy the Emberstone.

Or to silence the failed echoes of Quintus.

But something changed. Maybe Bludgeon rejected that mission. Maybe he saw the chaos and decided to become its master.

His presence in the show reflects an unresolved thread — a mythic warrior from another cycle, carrying a Prime’s unfinished business.

And then there's the question:

Was Bludgeon's arrival on Earth an accident — or a return?

The show gives no concrete answer. But given the deep, symbolic ties between the Emberstone, Earth, and the Terrans — and Bludgeon’s interest in them — it may not have been chance.

It may have been destiny, design, or leftover programming — a forgotten directive surfacing again in the presence of the Prime's relic.

👻 Where Is Quintus Prime's Spirit?

Unlike other Primes, Quintus’s spirit is curiously absent in canon that explores postmortem echoes (like the Matrix of Leadership).

Some possibilities:

The Matrix itself was broken — in some continuities, it has been shattered, corrupted, or experimented on.

A Prime with a damaged Matrix becomes a ghost without voice, a myth without echo.

Perhaps Quintus did create a weapon capable of destroying the Emberstone or his own children — and then regretted it.

And more tragically:

Quintus’s mind was consumed or absorbed by the Emberstone.

He does not speak because there is no singular self left. Only fragments.

🪐 Quintus’s People — The Forgotten Children

Quintus wasn’t just a god of chaos — he was the progenitor of colonial life. He seeded distant worlds with experimental sparks, strange lifeforms, and hybrid species.

Among his legacies:

Lost Cybertronian colonies (like Caminus) with half-remembered technologies.

Forgotten species created through budding or hybrid spark mutation.

Protoforms left in stasis or destroyed by those who feared their divergence.

Earlier analysis suggested:

"The Emberstone’s chaos may be all that remains of a diaspora — a broken trail of false starts, forgotten progeny, and failed children."

His people were never centralized. They were scattered, experimental, and disposable.

Which raises a haunting possibility:

The Terrans are not the first children of Quintus — just the first to survive this long.

Even Mo and Robbie may not be the first chosen ones. The Emberstone may have selected others — children, civilizations, species — only to discard them, or see them devour each other.

The cycle is older than the Maltos. Older than Cybertron's unity.

👶 Terrans — Children of the Emberstone, but Not of Cybertron

The Terrans are not Cybertronians. They are not sparks from the Well of All Sparks. They are born of Earth, shaped by human children’s emotions and guided by emotional imprint — not function, not caste.

Their bond is not spiritual — it’s neurological. Technological. Cybersleeves link their minds to the Maltos.

So what are they?

Experiments?

Reflections?

New lifeforms?

They are not free-born. They are emotionally installed. They were not sparked — they were projected into existence.

And the one responsible, at least symbolically?

Quintus Prime, whose hunger to create has always led to moral uncertainty.

🧪 Spitfire — A Failed Attempt at Twitch

Created from a fragment of the Emberstone, Spitfire seems like a second chance — a mirrored copy of Twitch. But she lacks something: spark clarity, narrative focus, or even agency.

She’s a shadow — and perhaps proof that the Emberstone cannot duplicate life, only fracture it.

She may be the closest the show gives us to confirming that the Emberstone doesn’t give souls — it echoes them.

And in that case, the Terrans weren’t born — they were mirrored reflections of childhood desire.

🌀 Symbolic Myth: Quintus as the False Father

In many mythic traditions, the Seeker or Trickster deity births strange, unnatural children:

Loki and his monstrous offspring.

Prometheus and the fire of misused knowledge.

Enki, god of invention and chaos.

Quintus follows this tradition. He is the god of unnatural life, of life outside the system, of creatures with no place to go.

The Terrans are his spiritual children — and they suffer from his pattern:

Born out of loneliness.

Bound to a place that doesn’t accept them.

Shaped by chaotic emotion, not conscious will.

They don’t belong. Because Quintus never intended them to belong.

He simply made. And left the world to deal with what he made.

And the Emberstone reflects this chaos.

It doesn’t guide — it reacts. It doesn’t parent — it propagates.

It is not the soul of Quintus — it is his broken mirror.

✨ Final Thought

The Emberstone is not a gift. It’s a mythic test — a fragment of a Prime’s unchecked desire to create.

The Terrans were never meant to thrive. They were meant to challenge the world. To ask: what is life?

And maybe… to remind us that not all creators are parents.

And not all life needs to be born whole — sometimes it emerges from chaos, fragments, and hunger.

In Transformers: EarthSpark, the Terrans are born not of a single world, but at the junction of two — Cybertron and Earth. Yet rather than embody a harmonious union, they are fractured, incomplete, and emotionally unanchored. They are not “children of both worlds” — they are orphans of two.

Their organic side, intended to connect them to Earth, is repressed. Their Cybertronian side, meant to give them cultural and spark-born identity, is hollow — they have no memory, no tradition, no voice in Cybertronian history. Instead, they are emotionally entangled with the Malto children, whose own identities are underdeveloped.

Terrans are overhumanized — molded around the Malto family rather than allowed to explore or develop autonomous selves. The series builds them into empathic mirrors, not persons. Their identities are shaped around human approval, particularly Mo and Robbie, rather than any internal spark or heritage.

They do not learn about Earth, or about Cybertron. Hashtag gets her knowledge from a chaotic internet — not from teachers, not from elders, not from experience. Twitch mimics combat. Thrash tries to anchor in brotherhood, but even that feels strained.

In their trauma and confusion, they reflect not children of hope, but victims of overadaptation. And here lies the danger: their trauma and emotional neglect, if pushed further, could turn them not into heroes — but villains. If the show truly followed its own logic, Terrans like Hashtag, who suffer identity loss, suppression, and emotional dissonance, would begin to question humanity itself — and potentially become antagonists, not sidekicks.

🔴 Disbalance and the Chaos Terrans

The Chaos Terrans make this subtext explicit: they are broken, chaotic, violent — and most importantly, unloved. They ask: who am I, and who has the right to shape me?

But the regular Terrans are not far from them. They are just more polished. They are no less disbalanced — they are simply more socially accepted.

So who is truly unbalanced — the Chaos Terrans, or the so-called “good” Terrans who never chose to be born and never learned who they are?

🗺 Cultural Suppression: The Maltos’ Filipino Identity

There is an uncomfortable silence in the show's handling of Filipino identity. We know Alex Malto is Filipino — but beyond the surface-level nods (a food here, a folk story there), the heritage is barely present. In fact, the Malto children show almost no awareness of Filipino history, culture, or spiritual practice.

Robbie and Mo are Americanized to the core — they show no connection to where they were possibly born or raised. The show never even tells us where they were born.

Even when a new family tradition is built, it’s in Ghost’s bunker in America. Even when legends are mentioned, they are background noise. The children do not speak the language, and we never see their extended family.

Back in the Philippines, it is said that Alex and the children used to hunt monsters of legend — yet that deep experience is discarded once they return to America.

Alex, who knows Filipino martial arts using sticks, has spiritual depth. He is rooted. But his children — and the Terrans who follow them — lack any of this grounding.

Twitch, for instance, would be the most dangerous Terran if she could learn Alex’s martial arts. But she cannot — because she has no soul. Not in the spiritual or cultural sense. Not one rooted in history or belonging.

🤨 Cultural Erasure or Narrow View?

Are the writers of EarthSpark simply lacking awareness of other cultures — or are they unconsciously suppressing them? If American authors write from a narrow, nationalized view, it’s possible other cultures — even Cybertronian culture — are treated as exotic, irrelevant, or optional.

There is no malicious intent here — but there is absence.

🧩 Final Note: Migrant Families and the “Fake Culture” of the Maltos

Though the show hints the Maltos lived in the Philippines, they seem to have grown up mostly in America. It’s unclear where the children were born, or whether they spent meaningful time in Filipino communities. Robbie has friends — but none of them seem to reflect multicultural bonds.

Instead of a real migrant family with a story of diaspora, what we get is an isolated, bunker-living group that mostly mirrors a fantasy of inclusion, not its reality.

The Terrans in Transformers: EarthSpark are presented as innocent, new life — a hybrid hope for peace. But when you look deeper, especially considering their connection to Megatron and his war crimes, their existence becomes far more morally complex — even frightening.

Twitch and the other Terrans are emotionally close to Megatron, who in other continuities — and even in EarthSpark’s backdrop — committed war crimes. Survivors of the war, had they been shown or centered in the narrative, would absolutely fear the Terrans. Why wouldn't they? These hybrid beings are partially raised by a man responsible for the destruction of lives and cities. But instead of exploring this perspective, the show either ignores or sidelines any meaningful survivor narratives. Those who could voice these fears are framed as villains — see how any antagonist of the Terrans is quickly delegitimized or flattened.

And let’s talk about why the Terrans are so loyal — why they’re so easily attached to humans and emotionally manipulated. Their organic parts are likely based on the DNA of the Malto children. This DNA-bound symbiosis may explain why they absorb emotions, culture, and loyalty so easily — even to the point of overriding their Cybertronian side. Is this really free will? Or is it domestication, cleverly disguised as "family"?

By that logic, if one of the Terrans — say Hashtag — developed trauma and turned against their programming, their human family, or even Earth, would the show treat them with compassion?

Unlikely.

They’d be instantly framed as a villain. Because the show treats deviation from human-centric loyalty as a threat.

So, what makes a monster? A Decepticon? Or a being designed for emotional obedience, created in the shadow of a war criminal, and judged only by their usefulness to human characters?

Let’s talk about one of the most quietly disturbing choices in Transformers: EarthSpark: giving Nightshade — a kind, curious, non-binary Terran — a mentor in the form of Tarantulas, a Decepticon war criminal.

❝ I just wanted to survive. ❞

That’s what Tarantulas says to Nightshade.

But let’s be clear: this is revisionism.

In most Transformers continuities — especially IDW and Beast Wars — Tarantulas is not just a victim of war.

He’s a torturer, a mad scientist, and a predator.

In IDW, he ran psychological operations, manipulated minds, and dissected identities.

He never truly defected. He stayed Decepticon by choice, driven by obsession with control, not freedom.

His “survival” always came at the cost of others’ autonomy.

🎭 The Hypocrisy of the Self-Expression Speech

In EarthSpark, Tarantulas gives a speech about self-expression and “not hiding who you are,” meant to resonate with Nightshade’s non-binary identity.

But this is a profound contradiction:

🕷️ Tarantulas didn’t honor self-expression — he stole it from others.

His experiments erased individuality. He extracted, dissected, and violated the very concept of personhood.

In any deeper disagreement, he would not celebrate Nightshade’s uniqueness — he would try to reprogram or reshape it. His “tolerance” is conditional, not compassionate.

Let’s be honest: If Nightshade truly challenged him — ethically, emotionally, philosophically — Tarantulas would turn on them like he always has with anyone who threatened his control.

⚠️ Why This Is So Dangerous

Giving Nightshade a mentor like Tarantulas sends these messages:

That predators can be safe if they sound gentle for five minutes.

That a child's identity is safe in the hands of a war criminal.

That representation overrides accountability — as long as someone says the “right” thing about identity.

Nightshade is a child. They deserve protection, not grooming masked as mentorship.

🌿 Missed Opportunities

If EarthSpark wanted a nuanced, affirming mentor for Nightshade, they could’ve chosen:

Wheeljack – eccentric and harmless.

Knock Out (reformed) – flamboyant, formerly Decepticon, now self-aware.

Perceptor – quiet, scientific, gentle.

Arcee – a warrior who’s wrestled with her own identity. (In other continuities)

All of them could talk about selfhood without carrying the moral rot of Tarantulas’ legacy.

🧠 Final Thought

Tarantulas is not a symbol of “self-expression.” He is a symbol of identity theft, domination, and conditional acceptance.

Letting him deliver a speech on freedom of identity — without any reckoning — is narrative betrayal.

And worst of all, it sets Nightshade up for subtle harm:

The kind of harm that wears a soft voice and says “I see you” — but only if you don’t say no.

A Hidden Design in Transformers: EarthSpark

Witwicky, Pennsylvania. A town that feels like a backdrop. A place suspended in unreality — half-abandoned, half-controlled.

It’s where the Terrans were born, and where the world quietly vanishes.

🧍‍♂️👧 Why Are Mo and Robbie in the Same Class?

Robbie is older. Mo is younger. Yet they’re always together — in the same grade, same classroom, same assignments.

Why?

Is the school so small that it combines grades?

Did Mo accelerate?

Or was Robbie held back — not academically, but emotionally?

There’s a quiet implication that Robbie’s development might have stalled. Perhaps after trauma. Perhaps due to their family's chaotic lifestyle.

But there’s another detail even stranger.

👦 Robbie had friends.

He says it clearly in episode 1:

“I had friends… back in old town.”

But Mo never says this. Never mentions a friend. Never mourns a peer.

Which raises the question: Has she ever had any? Was she always emotionally bonded only to her family and Terrans?

If Mo’s entire social development has been within a bubble of siblings and artificial lifeforms created to adore her — can we even say she has real social skills? Or only command?

🤖 The Terrans' Harmony Is Suppression

We’re told the Terrans are “in harmony.” But that harmony is programmed — not chosen.

They didn’t choose their emotional bonds.

They didn’t choose their bodies.

They didn’t choose their isolation.

Their bond is encoded dependence. Their world is selective exposure. Their peace is silence, not resolution.

This is not balance. It’s a suppression of the organic — of chaos, of choice, of dissonance.

Even their feelings are tightly looped around the Maltos, unable to truly stretch outward.

🏚️ The Empty Town — and No One Questions It

Why do the Terrans — curious, intelligent beings — never ask:

“Why don’t we see other people?” “Why is this town so small?” “Where is the world?”

Because they were never taught to look. Never encouraged to explore beyond the illusion.

They live in a psychological vacuum, where everything they feel is mirrored back at them from the same small circle.

A few children. A hidden base. A dying town. And that is all they are allowed to see.

🕷️ Social Control by Disconnection

Terrans were born in captivity. Raised in emotional dependency. Cut off from both Earth and Cybertron.

They do not know themselves. They do not know the world.

And no one around them seems to notice — because in EarthSpark, silence is rebranded as harmony.

But silence is not peace. And harmony, when forced, is just emotional flattening.

“If you give someone a soul and then treat them like a toy, what happens when you get bored?”

The Malto children in EarthSpark are celebrated as the Terrans’ “first family.” They bond with them. Love them. Fight alongside them.

But they also — intentionally or not — treat the Terrans as extensions of themselves, rather than individuals. And that has consequences.

What if they’re not raising siblings… But collecting playthings?

🧸 I. Treated Like Toys, Not People

Let’s be honest:

The Terrans are introduced like new pets.

Their personalities are shaped by what the Malto children find entertaining or affirming.

Hashtag’s obsession with broadcasting.

Thrash’s love of stunts.

Twitch’s need to impress.

Nightshade’s eagerness to please.

Jawbreaker’s quiet waiting — always wanting to belong.

None of these were encouraged to explore a self beyond the family structure.

They are not offered solitude, introspection, or even space of their own. They don’t even have bedrooms.

⏳ II. When the Kids Grow Up… What Happens?

The Malto children are still young. But what happens when:

Robbie becomes a teenager and starts dating?

Mo develops new interests that don’t include Hashtag or other?

The others move, change, grow emotionally distant?

The Terrans’ entire sense of self is tied to a child’s attention span. So what happens when that attention fades?

The danger isn’t violence. The danger is neglect.

A forgotten toy on a shelf is still a tragedy — especially when that toy is alive, waiting, and in pain.

🪞 III. Do the Terrans Ever Grow Up?

Here’s the darker truth:

There are no visible signs in the show that the Terrans are allowed to grow emotionally past their human counterparts.

They learn skills (fighting, technology), but not selfhood.

They are told who they are by others.

They imitate growth — they don’t initiate it.

In fact, Hashtag is the perfect example of emotional arrested development:

Loud.

Impulsive.

Always seeking attention.

Deeply insecure when excluded.

No one — not Optimus, not Dot, not even the Malto kids — offers guidance on how to become a person, not a mascot.

Their growth is synchronized with their human siblings… But only as far as the show allows the humans to mature.

Which is to say: not far at all.

🔐 IV. They Were Never Meant to Outgrow Them

This may be the quiet tragedy of EarthSpark:

The Terrans were not created to become adults. They were created to stay in orbit — always revolving around the Malto children’s identities.

They were never given:

Mentors of their own (?)

Private emotional landscapes

Cultural inheritance

A right to spiritual, existential, or psychological growth

If they one day did start to grow… Would the Maltos still want them?

💥 V. Final Thought

“When the child grows up, they put away their toys.” “But what if the toy still loves them?”

That’s what EarthSpark refuses to answer.

The Terrans may live for centuries. The Maltos will grow up, move on, fall in love, leave town.

And the Terrans?

Will they still be waiting? Will they still be smiling? Will they still be children?

Or will they finally ask — too late —

“What if I was never a person to you?”

A Meta on Jawbreaker, Emotional Exile, and the Terran Who Chose a Stranger

“You’re supposed to be one of us.” “I was. Until I saw someone no one else would.”

In Transformers: EarthSpark, the Terrans are born not just from Earth — but from emotional entanglement. Their sparks form around the Malto children’s presence. They don’t just bond. They mirror. And so their deepest fear isn’t death. It’s rejection.

But what happens when one of them sees someone else’s pain — and chooses to protect that person instead of the Malto family?

What happens when a Terran says:

“I still love you… but I won’t obey you.”

🥀 Jawbreaker: The One Already Half Outside

Jawbreaker is the Terran who never truly fit.

He isn’t central in group dynamics

His bonding with Mo is awkward, delayed, and shallow

His desire to “be a monster” is misread as comedy — when it’s clearly alienation and identity hunger

He looks for mentors everywhere but home — Soundwave, Grimlock, anyone who sees him as more than the “nice one”

He is emotionally adrift.

And that makes him ready to break away.

🛡️ The Moment It Happens

It won’t be dramatic. It will be quiet. Inevitable.

Jawbreaker will:

See someone hurting — a Decepticon, a human, a rogue protoform, a failed Terran clone

Feel empathy

Step in to protect them — fiercely, kindly, completely

But the Maltos won’t understand.

“They’re dangerous.” “You’re not one of us anymore.”

And just like that: the link breaks.

Not by force. But by disbelief. By emotional exile.

🧬 The Spark That Refused to Die

But Jawbreaker won’t collapse.

He won’t beg.

He’ll mourn the family that cast him out — but he’ll begin to form something new:

A self not based on Robbie’s approval

A loyalty not filtered through Dot’s rules

A soul not owned by a childhood that was never truly his

He becomes the first Terran to be real — not born through someone else’s reflection, but through his own moral action.

He doesn’t stop being kind. He just stops being a mirror.

🕳️ What Was Jawbreaker’s Role in the Story?

Jawbreaker was the quiet foundation. Not the loudest, not the center — but always there:

Offering empathy when others pushed

Asking questions no one answered

Absorbing pain others didn’t notice

He is the emotional ballast of the Terran family.

His quiet presence keeps their dynamic from imploding under the weight of Twitch’s volatility, Hashtag’s mimicry, and Nightshade’s intellectual detachment.

He is the Terran who feels everything but speaks little.

🩸 What If He Wasn’t There?

If Jawbreaker didn’t exist:

The Terrans’ group empathy would become an echo chamber

No one would notice the quiet, the left out, the ones slipping through the cracks

Mo’s emotional growth would be shallower — no second-chance bonding, no quiet sibling to test her capacity to care

The symbolic question — can someone be real without constant validation? — would never be asked

Without Jawbreaker, EarthSpark loses its emotional conscience.

He’s not the leader. He’s the witness. And the one who finally says: “You don’t have to be loved to do the right thing.”

💔 The Tragedy for the Others

The Malto children might never realize what they lost:

The sibling who loved them most quietly

The Terran who was always listening

The soul they thought they created — who was becoming more than they could contain

The other Terrans may feel the absence in their sparks like a phantom limb.

They might not speak his name.

But they’ll all wonder, at night:

Was he right to leave?

🗝️ Final Thought:

Jawbreaker won’t betray the family. He’ll just refuse to abandon someone else’s pain. And in doing so, he’ll become something none of them were ready for:

Free.

(A mythic prequel to Transformers: EarthSpark)

Long before the Malto family. Before Cybertronians walked Earth. Before the chaos of the Emberstone shattered into fragments —

There was the First Chosen One. A teenager of the Native peoples of the Americas, in a time before colonization.

The Emberstone came to them — not as a floating crystal or glowing program, but as a spirit that looked like Quintus Prime. They saw it in visions. It spoke to them in dreams.

But their elders warned them:

"The gods demand sacrifice. Beware the gifts of spirits."

Still, they followed the voice. or glowing program, but as a spirit that looked like Quintus Prime. They saw it in visions. It spoke to them in dreams.

They were the first human with a cybersleeve, like Mo and Robbie. But they were more creative — a shaper of light and spirit, using their bond with the Emberstone to build light-based constructions: illusions, shelters, bridges, wings.

They created a single Terran — a being of warmth and emotional clarity. But the Chosen One, sensing that the Terran was overwhelmed by emotional echoes from their cybersleeve, made a sacrifice: They turned off their own emotions through the Emberstone, removing them from the Terran's link, so their Terran could feel their own emotions freely.

And then... they met Terranus — a towering Titan being, protector of the Emberstone. Terranus spoke gently and listened well. She became close with both the Chosen One and their Terran. They spent days exploring, learning, protecting the land.

One evening, the Chosen One asked:

"If you weren't guarding the Emberstone, what would you do?"

Terranus replied:

"I would travel the cosmos. Seek other lights. Other lives."

But the Chosen One had questions.

"Where did the God come from? And why does it not speak of Cybertron?"

They began to doubt.

One day, they met a strange creature — vague, alien, and mocking. The creature said:

"Do not trust the Emberstone. It is not what you think."

The Chosen One asked why, but the creature vanished. When they asked Terranus, she only said:

"Do not worry. You are doing good."

But something changed. The Emberstone, once speaking, now fell silent.

They met the creature again. This time, it confessed:

"I was created by the Emberstone. But Earth is doomed. It will be terraformed into a colony world. The Emberstone is the key."

The Chosen One asked, "How do I know you're not lying?" The creature said:

"Look in your heart. You already know."

They told their Terran. The Terran said:

"Then I will stand with you."

Together, the Terran and Chosen One protected Earth from strange beasts, rogue machines, natural threats — always watching the stars.

But one day, the Chosen One met a strange creature again. It warned:

"Do not trust the Emberstone."

When asked why, the creature vanished.

They met it again later. This time, the creature said:

"The Emberstone will terraform Earth. All will be lost."

The Chosen One asked:

"Why do you help me?"

The creature smiled:

"Because I enjoy ruining Quintus Prime's plans."

The Emberstone reacted — violently. It built a great Tower, like the one in the show — but whole, not shattered. From it came monsters, twisted dwellers, chaos-born guardians — and even dark gods from the shadowy corners of forgotten realms.

The Chosen One and their Terran fought them all. The Emberstone, now silent, abandoned them, letting the gods consume the Earth.

But in the silence, the Chosen One heard Atlas — the sleeping spirit of resistance — and with that divine strength, they rose again.

Together, with Atlas's power and their unbreakable bond, the Chosen One and their Terran defeated the dark gods. The Chosen One and their Terran fought them all.

In the final battle, the Chosen One became a being of energon and light, a giant golden guardian, and broke the tower. The ruins sank beneath the Earth.

But the victory came at great cost. The Emberstone struck back. It killed the Terran. As they died, the Terran said:

"Thank you... for my life. For being my family."

The Chosen One, mortally wounded, found Terranus. They asked:

"Why didn’t you tell me the truth?"

Terranus replied:

"Because I was loyal... to Quintus Prime."

With her mind fading, the Chosen One took a fragment of Terranus’s memory — proof of colonization plans.

They faced the Emberstone and won, not with strength, but by channeling the power of Atlas — the spirit of resistance, of grounding, of human will.

The Emberstone hissed:

"If you destroy me, she dies. Haven’t you hurt her enough?"

Terranus fell into stasis, a living sleep.

The Chosen One did not destroy the Emberstone — they sealed it, deep beneath the Earth, in the place where they had first found it.

Before their final breath, the creature returned.

"You do not have to die," it said. "You can live... but not as human."

The Chosen One agreed. They became the Golden Guardian, immortal, no longer human, but a protector.

When the Spanish invaders came, the Guardian fought to protect the Native people. When the Quintessons attacked, both united.

But the invaders had found a way to trap the Guardian in a stone tomb, a tomb created by the Quintessons themselves — a place built to contain what they could not control.

They betrayed the Golden Guardian.

And so he sleeps. But before his slumber, the Golden Guardian wandered the land one last time. Wherever he walked, he seeded flowers and plants, not for himself — but for Terranus. A garden of hope, so that one day, if she awakens, she would see beauty first — not war. Waiting. To awaken again, when the Emberstone rises…