Transformers: Shattered Glass

Chapter 27- Playing Gods And Monsters

Sector Seven Beta Command: Hoover Dam, April 3, 1944
Sitting in his office, Walter Simmons stared longingly at a photo of his daughter Margo, her ex-husband Carlson, and their son William Simmons. Margo had passed away some time ago which disheartened Simmons. "Oh, Margo..." said Simmons forlornly. "If only you'd lived to see your son all grown up." A U.S. Army soldier entered inside Simmons' office and informed, "He's here, sir." The old man nodded, "Ahem. Good." Then a fair-skinned man with a military uniform came in and took off his cap, revealing his dark-haired crew cut holding it as he placed his hands behind his back. "Agent Simmons—" started the elder man as he put the photo in a drawer in his desk. His grandson stated, "It's Private Simmons, sir." Simmons replied, "Not anymore, Billy. Have a seat." The private insisted, "I'd rather stand, sir." Simmons assured, "You don't have to call me 'sir.'" Billy asked, "What should I call you?" Getting up, Simmons shrugged, "'Grandfather' always had a ring to it." Billy frowned, "I'll stick with 'sir.' I don't know what strings you pulled to get me here—" Simmons interrupted, "Consider it an honor. You're part of an important institution now. Walk with me."

The old man left the office where two privates were standing guard and stopped on a display platform with a railing in front of them. Billy followed him as Simmons continued, "For security's sake, we like to keep things close to the family, but you've already received a Distinguished Service Cross, a Soldier's—" Billy replied, "I know what I got, sir. I belong in the front lines, fighting Nazis, not wasting my life like my mother." Simmons gestured, "I see. Take a look, Billy..." The private stood aback of what he saw. A group of scientists and engineers were studying a giant white, red, and black robot with cyan optics, black helmet, yellow lines, and blue wings with red stripes folded behind his back reaching with an outstretched hand toward both him and Simmons. "What is all this?" gaped Billy.

His grandfather explained, "The future. Fifty years ago, I unearthed this thirty-foot-tall mechanical man from outer space. Since then, I have been in charge of this group, codenamed Sector Seven, which has existed to investigate and monitor exactly this kind of threat. This facility is built to be a permanent, safe home for the... 'Mega-Man,' we used to call him." Simmons led Billy to a hallway as he continued, "Eventually we would come into contact with another organization in Europe that has Mega-Men of their own. So far, we've kept them from knowing too much about ours." Billy asked confusingly, "Why? Isn't Europe our ally?" Simmons stopped to face him and replied, "Europe is our ally, but this organization and its Mega-Men are dangerous wildcards. There's no telling how they would react if they found out our family's secret. Besides... we already have a worst case scenario right now." Billy asked, "What is it, sir?" Simmons answered, "Yesterday, I was told that the Nazis managed to get their own Mega-Man and they're using it to reverse-engineer weapons." They entered in a strategizing room with a group of soldiers. "Billy," concluded Simmons. "Your mission is to go behind enemy lines, destroy the Nazis' Non-Biological Entity, and kill anyone who has come into contact with it." He points to the soldiers and added, "You'll join six of the best strike agents Sector Seven has to offer. Are you in, Billy?" Simmons looked at these men in uniform with a neutral expression. There was Horwitz, a big bearded man with a red hair who was a master of hand-to-hand combat, Corliss, a bearded man with blonde hair who was an expert covert infiltrator, Garcia, a mustached man who was a machine-gunner, Lupton aka "The Kid," a sniper, Newcombe, a short glassed man who was a code breaker and intelligence officer, and lastly the man in charge, Sergeant Donavan, a black man whose expression matched his professional demeanor.

The group surrounded themselves with a map of a castle as Simmons strategized, "You'll airdrop six miles outside Castle Neuschwanstein, using the night as cover. Each of you will carry a satchel filled with explosives. The C-47 will pick you up via a Fulton recovery exactly 150 minutes later, from the top of the castle quick and clean. Don't leave a stone standing or a Nazi breathing."