Shockwave: Logic will not fail...

Shockwave stood at the center of his metallic city, observing the steady hum of activity as his drones continued their work. Towers of steel reached toward the darkened sky, their spires gleaming with faint traces of energon, which powered his growing empire.

The shield generators he had constructed crackled with energy, forming a dome of protection around the city. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough to shield against meteor impacts and small-scale assaults—logical precautions given the encounter with the Nova Corps.

Within the city, a new structure began to take form: the central energon storage facility. Its design was simple yet efficient, with reinforced walls to withstand potential breaches and automated systems to regulate the flow of energon.

Shockwave watched as his drones deposited freshly mined energon into the storage tanks. The substance glowed faintly, a testament to its immense energy potential. Yet as he analyzed the process, he couldn't help but think of Cybertron's history.

"Energon," he mused, his optic dimming slightly. "The lifeblood of Cybertron. Abundant, yet so easily squandered. Overconsumption led to chaos, addiction, and war. Illogical."

He turned to one of his drones, a spindly creation with multiple arms and a single glowing eye. "Ensure that energon production remains within sustainable limits," he commanded. "Overextraction is inefficient and unnecessary. Logic dictates that we prioritize reserves over excess."

The drone chirped in response, scuttling off to carry out his orders.

As Shockwave continued to oversee the construction of his empire, his thoughts drifted to Cybertron's downfall. The war between Autobots and Decepticons had been fueled by greed, ambition, and emotion—traits that Shockwave had always deemed illogical.

"This world shall not suffer the same fate," he said to himself. "My creations shall not depend on energon, but it will serve as a contingency. A reserve of power for when it is needed most."

He paused, gazing at the shimmering surface of the energon tanks. His mind worked through countless simulations, considering every variable. He knew that balance was key—too much reliance on energon would make his empire vulnerable, yet too little would leave it defenseless.

"Logic dictates equilibrium," he concluded. "A self-sustaining system that does not repeat the mistakes of the past."

It was then that a new thought struck him. This planet, this empire—what was it to be called? He could not refer to it as Cybertron. That name was tainted by the failures of his predecessors. No, this was something new. Something greater.

"Plexicon," he said aloud, the name resonating with an air of finality. "A world of logic and order. A testament to efficiency and precision. Plexicon shall be the cradle of a new age."

With the name decided, Shockwave turned his attention to refining Plexicon's infrastructure. He designed automated systems to monitor and regulate energon levels, ensuring that the substance was used only when absolutely necessary.

His drones were given specific instructions: expand the city, fortify its defenses, and establish new mining outposts. Every action was calculated, every resource accounted for.

As the days passed, Plexicon began to take shape. The barren wasteland was slowly transformed into a sprawling metropolis of metal and machinery. Towers of energon storage dotted the landscape, their glowing cores a symbol of the planet's potential.

Shockwave stood atop the highest spire, his optic scanning the horizon. The planet was still largely unexplored, its depths teeming with unknown resources and potential dangers. But he was undeterred.

"Logic dictates that exploration is necessary," he said. "The unknown is a variable that must be controlled. Plexicon's dominion must extend beyond this city."

As Shockwave began planning the next phase of his expansion, his thoughts turned to Earth. The encounter with the Nova Corps had confirmed what he already suspected—this universe was rife with factions, each vying for power.

"Earth," he said, his voice a low rumble. "A world of chaos and emotion. Yet its resources and strategic value cannot be ignored."

He activated a holographic display, projecting an image of the Milky Way galaxy. His scanners had already pinpointed Earth's location, along with several other planets of interest.

"Logic dictates that Earth must be observed," he said. "Its factions analyzed, its weaknesses exploited. But direct confrontation is illogical at this stage. Subtlety and precision are required."

He turned to his drones, their glowing eyes fixed on him. "Prepare a reconnaissance unit," he commanded. "Earth shall be our next target."

As the drones scurried off to carry out his orders, Shockwave allowed himself a moment of reflection.

"Plexicon," he said, gazing at the city below. "The beginning of a new era. A world of order in a universe of chaos. And I, Shockwave, shall be its architect."

With that, he descended from the spire, his footsteps echoing through the metallic halls of his empire. The path ahead was clear, the plan set in motion.

For on Plexicon, logic reigned supreme. And logic, as Shockwave knew, was the only true constant in the universe.