Transformer in MCU

The atmosphere in the underground parking lot was thick with fear, and chaos reigned. 

People were colliding with one another, their voices rising in panicked yells, desperate to embolden themselves as they frantically searched for a place to hide. Fear, like a virus, spreads rapidly, infecting everyone in its path.

Only a few brave souls dared to resist the growing terror. For most, the events they had just witnessed had already etched themselves into nightmares they would never forget. 

Facing a powerful enemy was one thing, but this mutant's abilities were beyond comprehension. His power was not just physical but something far more unnerving—mystical, even divine.

It was as though they were standing against a god.

The roar of a motorcycle engine echoed through the lot, fading as the mutant—Downey—rode off. 

His bike was clearly high-end, its mechanical hum a final reminder of the terrifying abilities they had witnessed.

A scrawny man, lucky enough to survive, groaned as he struggled to his feet. His eyes followed the disappearing figure of Downey, his hands trembling. For a moment, fear and relief washed over him. 

But then, something clicked in his mind, and with a sudden burst of delusional confidence, he leaped up.

"I beat him! I made him run!" the skinny man shouted, raising his weapon high above his head. His declaration shocked the others, who stared at him in disbelief.

"Is he serious?" someone whispered.

The skinny man's face lit up with pride as he continued his bold performance. "That mutant fled because he was scared of me! I sent him running!" he boasted, his voice swelling with false bravado.

A radiant, golden glow—almost like a holy light—seemed to surround the scrawny man. His chest puffed out as he continued, "Come on! Face me! I'll take you on single-handedly for 300 rounds!"

The others watched in stunned silence. His shamelessness was astounding. How could he stand there, bold-faced, claiming victory after cowering like the rest of them?

"That was nothing! A fourth-level mutant? Please. Give me three moves, and I'll have him down!" he boasted, waving his weapon around like a conquering hero. "It's just that he ran too fast for me to catch him. I didn't even have a vehicle!"

Finally, someone from the crowd couldn't take it anymore. A large man rushed forward and kicked the skinny man, sending him sprawling to the ground. 

"Shut up, you idiot!" the man barked. "You're embarrassing all of us!"

Others murmured in agreement, shame flushing their faces. They couldn't believe they were stuck with this fool, bragging in front of everyone, especially when they knew higher powers were watching. 

Through hidden cameras, powerful figures had been observing the entire encounter. Those influential onlookers—men who controlled entire organizations—groaned in frustration.

The skinny man, still bruised and bloodied from his earlier beating, jumped back up with a smile, still trying to save face. 

But his bravado vanished in an instant when a small figure stepped out of the shadows—Downey's miniature Transformer creation, eyes gleaming with a malevolent light.

The parking lot went deadly silent.

The skinny man froze, his fake confidence evaporating in the blink of an eye. His eyes widened in horror as he realized the little robot hadn't left with Downey. It was still here, keeping an eye on them. Downey had left it behind deliberately.

"He's playing with us," the man thought bitterly. "That sinister mutant did this on purpose."

Downey's mechanical creation moved closer, its footsteps echoing ominously. The skinny man's face contorted into an exaggerated smile of submission, eyes darting around as he silently begged for mercy. 

Despite the pain from the earlier beating, he wore a look of extreme deference, hoping the robot wouldn't tear him apart.

Those watching through cameras winced. The bosses were furious, and the hackers monitoring the scene couldn't believe their eyes. 

"Who let this fool into the operation?" one of them muttered. "We'll never live this down."

The little Transformer wasted no time. It pummeled the skinny man until he was lying on the ground, bruised and beaten once again. 

But somehow, even through the relentless barrage of blows, the man maintained his pathetic, sycophantic smile, as if he was enjoying the humiliation.

The crowd looked on in disgust. Some wanted to roll up their sleeves and join in the beating. How had they ended up with such a disgrace in their ranks?

Meanwhile, Downey was far from the scene, sensing through his connection with the Transformer that the desired delay had been achieved. 

He smiled grimly. The stunt had bought him enough time. Controlling the Transformer was consuming more energy than expected, but it had been worth it.

Far behind him, those observing the confrontation from afar were growing impatient. Various bosses barked orders into their phones, chastising their men for being intimidated by a toy-sized robot. 

"Get moving! Surround that mutant and take him down! We've gathered enough data on him already. He's not as strong as you think!" one of them barked.

Their analysis of Downey's powers was ongoing, but one thing was becoming clear: the stronger the materials available, the more powerful his creations. 

However, the upper limits of this ability were still unknown, and the potential for further growth was a significant concern.

As the bosses continued to push for action, armed men began to organize themselves for another attempt. 

The skinny man, once again emboldened by the prospect of safety in numbers, stood up, wiping the blood from his nose with a flourish.

"Follow me!" he shouted, brandishing his weapon. "This time, I'll finish him off with one hand!"

And once again, that strange, almost divine glow enveloped him.

A few others—perhaps infected by his delusions—stood up as well, their spirits mysteriously lifted, as if they'd just survived a heroic battle. 

"We'll capture that mutant for sure!" they shouted, their confidence suddenly surging.

Those watching from the shadows shook their heads in disbelief. "This team is doomed," one muttered, turning off the feed in frustration. 

The situation was rapidly spiraling out of control, and if the men on the ground couldn't handle this mutant, it was clear that more drastic measures would soon be necessary.

As the skinny man and his motley crew moved to pursue Downey, the real question became: were they truly chasing a fourth-level mutant—or were they chasing their own doom?

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Guys do leave your comments behind or else I wanna send a teeny tiny Transformer behind you

Be ware