Shockwave: Logic will not fail...

The Hangar of Plexicon, the largest and most complex structure on the metallic planet, was a marvel of Shockwave's design. Towering spires of polished steel stretched toward the sky, humming faintly with the energy of countless interconnected systems. It was more than a storage or staging area—it was the heart of the city, where every Plexicon citizen remained when not performing their designated tasks. Efficiency dictated this arrangement, as conserving energy, even in abundance, was a logical priority.

Shockwave entered the Hangar, his heavy steps echoing across the cavernous space. Above him, rows of suspended pods glowed faintly, each housing one of his mechanical creations in stasis. Within these pods, energy levels were regulated and optimized, ensuring no waste. This was order—this was logic in its purest form.

But today, Shockwave's attention was focused on the massive War Worms curled at the far end of the Hangar. These creations were among his most ambitious projects, engineered for both destruction and strategic dominance. Five of the titanic machines were complete, their sleek, serpentine bodies gleaming under the Hangar's artificial lights.

Shockwave approached the beasts, his optic eye scanning their systems. He extended his arm, and the Soul Stone embedded within it glowed faintly as he imbued each War Worm with sentience—not advanced intelligence, but a simpler, more primal awareness akin to that of Earth's canines.

The results were immediate. The War Worms stirred to life, their segmented bodies rippling with anticipation. They looked at Shockwave, their single glowing optics reflecting a mixture of curiosity and eagerness. One of them let out a low, mechanical rumble, a sound that almost resembled a growl of excitement.

"Order is paramount," Shockwave said, his voice even. "You will operate within the limits of the Barrier Field. Beyond that, your actions are... unrestricted."

The War Worms responded with unrestrained enthusiasm, their massive forms writhing as they made their way toward the Hangar's exit. They moved with surprising grace for their size, their segmented bodies coiling and uncoiling as they raced out into the open expanse of Plexicon.

All but one.

One of the War Worms lingered, its optic fixed on Shockwave. Unlike its companions, it didn't rush out to explore its new freedom. Instead, it remained coiled near its creator, its massive head lowering slightly as though in deference.

Shockwave turned to the creature, his optic eye narrowing. "Emotions are illogical," he said, his tone more contemplative than reprimanding. "And yet, they are a part of every sentient being, regardless of their nature."

The War Worm let out a low, almost mournful hum, its optic dimming slightly.

After a moment's pause, Shockwave extended his hand, placing it against the creature's smooth metallic head. "Loyalty is... acceptable," he admitted, his voice softer. "But do not let it cloud your purpose."

The War Worm rumbled in response, its optic brightening again. Shockwave withdrew his hand and turned away, heading toward the Barrier Field control center.

The Barrier Field surrounding Plexicon was a marvel of energy manipulation, a shimmering dome of blue energy that protected the city from external threats. It was efficient and robust, but Shockwave was never content with "adequate."

Standing at the control terminal, he began inputting new algorithms and recalibrating the field generators. The enhancements would strengthen the Barrier's resilience, increase its energy efficiency, and expand its radius incrementally.

As he worked, his thoughts returned briefly to the War Worm that had stayed behind.

"Anomalies are unavoidable," he muttered to himself. "Even within systems of logic, deviations occur. They must be managed, not eradicated."

The Barrier Field flickered momentarily as the new algorithms took effect. Shockwave observed the readings, satisfied with the results.

Outside the Barrier, the lone War Worm waited. It coiled itself near the edge of the dome, its optic fixed on the shimmering energy field as though guarding it. Unlike its brethren, who were exploring Plexicon with reckless abandon, this one seemed content to stay close to its creator's domain.

Occasionally, it would lift its head, scanning the horizon for any potential threats. Its loyalty was unwavering, its purpose clear.

And yet, deep within its semi-sentient mind, there was a faint echo of something more—a connection to the being that had brought it to life.

It would wait. It would watch.

For it knew that its master would return, and when he did, it would be ready to serve.