Marvelous Mutations

The sword in the Autobot's hand didn't look particularly fancy, no jagged edges or glowing runes. Just a sleek, sci-fi-forged longsword, its hilt embedded with soft pulses of electric-blue light.

It didn't look dangerous.

It actually looked like a giant toy sword.

But the moment the blade touched Obadiah's armor, it passed through like molten steel slicing butter.

Schhhhink~!

One clean stroke, no resistance whatsoever.

The battle suit, once touted as more durable than a tank, split clean down the middle. The towering Iron Monger shuddered and then…

BOOM! BAM~!

Two halves of the suit slammed onto the pavement with crushing weight. The street shook under the impact, and a nearby car alarm shrieked into the night.

A hush fell over the street.

The crowd of onlookers, who had been filming in stunned silence, gasped and instinctively stepped back. Even the most jaded New Yorker had to admit this was beyond anything they'd ever seen.

From the moment the yellow Camaro had transformed until Iron Monger hit the pavement, the entire fight had lasted less than a minute.

If it could even be called a fight.

The upper half of the armor landed facing the cameras, and people could finally glimpse the ashen face of the man inside since the faceplate had fallen to the side, Obadiah Stane, expression frozen in disbelief and horror. His lifeless eyes confirmed what the clean split already implied.

He was dead.

All over the city, phones shook in hands, live-stream chats exploded, and millions of viewers blinked at their screens in disbelief.

Two of the "robots" had been humans in high-tech suits.

But this one, the shapeshifting yellow machine, was something else entirely.

Alien? Government tech?

No one knew.

The Autobot, still glowing faintly from the energy surge, descended slowly from the air like a titan returning to rest. The glowing wings on its back flickered briefly before collapsing into scrap and falling off its shoulders with a metallic clatter.

Now back on solid ground, the Autobot stood motionless.

Silent.

Like a loyal sentinel awaiting further orders.

…

Behind a parked van, Luke peeked out cautiously with Sharon and Steve at his sides. His phone buzzed in his jacket.

Frowning, he answered.

A robotic voice, calm and loyal, came through the speaker.

"Boss, one target has been neutralized. Do you want me to eliminate the second?"

Luke blinked, caught off guard. "You... can call me now?"

He glanced across the street at Iron Man, hovering in place with visible confusion, his armor scratched and pulsing faintly with overuse.

Luke lowered his voice. "Nah... that one's fine. He's an ally. Sort of."

He paused.

"…Also kind of my idol. And I've still got to buy some shares of his company."

Sharon looked at him from the side and rolled her eyes, 'just how many idols does this guy have?'

There was a soft mechanical hum from the other end. "Acknowledged, Boss."

Without hesitation, the Autobot began to transform once more. Plates shifted, metal twisted, joints reversed and snapped into place. In under five seconds, the towering robot compressed back into a sleek, purring yellow Camaro.

The crowd roared in shock. Phones went up again like a wave.

Even Tony floated lower to the ground, visibly stunned.

His armor hissed with cooling steam as he landed beside what remained of Obadiah. His helmet retracted, revealing a face that was half-exhausted, half-awestruck.

"…Jarvis," Tony muttered, eyes glued to the Camaro. "Remind me to rethink everything for the next Mark."

"Yes, sir," came the AI's crisp reply.

Ideas were already spinning in Tony's mind at lightning speed.

He wasn't jealous, not that he would ever admit it, he was inspired.

This wasn't the end of an arms race. This was the beginning of a tech revolution.

...

The Camaro performed a sharp, stylish drift and screeched away from the scene in a flash of yellow.

Ten seconds later, the car rolled to a smooth stop in front of Luke and the others, headlights flaring like a proud dog wagging its tail.

The lights hit them directly, drawing the attention of every nearby camera.

"Shit," Luke muttered.

In one quick motion, he yanked Sharon into the front passenger seat.

Snap! Flash!

Dozens of camera flashes exploded around them like fireworks.

Steve, blinking and still caught in the moment, stood frozen.

"Steve, get in!" Sharon yelled, ducking inside the car.

"Oh, uh, right!" Steve scrambled in, rubbing his eyes and waving off the spots of light dancing in his vision.

Unfortunately, the damage was done.

Every reporter and spectator caught footage of Steve standing heroically next to the transforming Camaro.

On Luke's mind, he could already imagine the headlines:

"Captain America Returns with Secret Robot Ally?!"

"Was Steve Rogers in Space During the Last 70 Years?"

Meanwhile, the real master was already lounging comfortably in the driver seat.

...

The engine revved.

The Camaro let out a deep growl and peeled off once again, merging with the night traffic as if nothing had happened.

But something was different this time.

Luke wasn't steering. His hands were behind his head, reclined as if he were in a limousine.

The car was driving itself, smoothly, intelligently.

No autopilot system in the world could match it.

Sharon peeked over the console. "Uh… who's driving?"

The dashboard blinked, and the car spoke again.

"Boss prefers a stress-free ride. Leave it to me."

Steve's eyes nearly popped. "...Did the car just talk again?"

Luke smirked. "Yep. Not just a car anymore."

He stretched and grinned. "I think it's time to give you a name."

"As you wish, boss!" chirped the robotic voice with glee.

Luke pondered for a moment, but as mentioned previously, he has never been good at naming things.

"Let's go with… Bumblebee."

There was a mechanical whirr that might have been excitement.

"Thank you, Boss! Uploading identity tag: Bumblebee."

Luke chuckled.

Thankfully, this world didn't have a Transformers movie franchise.

So, no copyrights were infringed.

…