Transformer in MCU

The old bartender, flung over Downey's shoulder, had his eyes darting around nervously. There was a hint of anticipation, but fear and worry dominated his expression. 

Yet, his mouth couldn't stay silent, as he twisted his body, yelling, "What do you think you're doing? Let me down! I didn't provoke you!"

He was powerless to resist, but he put on quite the act, almost convincing even himself that he had a chance.

"Shut the hell up! It's all because of you!" Downey barked back, not taking his threats seriously. Without hesitation, he pulled out a brick made of vibranium.

Thwack!

The sound echoed as Downey brought the brick down hard. The bartender's eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth foaming as he slipped into unconsciousness. His last thoughts were filled with regret: I shouldn't have messed with this lunatic.

Downey had made up his mind to kidnap this so-called modification master. Regular technicians were long since snatched up by the big corporations, but the old bartender, a rogue expert working under the table, was his best shot. 

Downey didn't have his own tech team, which was a significant disadvantage. He needed to build one and recruit some top talent.

He wasn't just after any engineer; he wanted the old bartender to build him a custom super-powered vehicle. 

Downey couldn't yet control many of the Transformers at once, and his spark energy was too limited to waste.

"This guy... is he a mutant? Is he here to abduct someone?" murmured one of the vampires, staring in disbelief as Downey slung the unconscious bartender over his shoulder.

The other vampires cackled, amused. None of them seemed too worried; after all, no one leaves a vampire's lair alive. They watched, knowing full well they'd soon tear Downey apart.

"He's kidnapping that old man... but that bartender's been promised to a pureblood vampire!" someone whispered.

The vampires tensed. That bartender had caught the attention of a high-ranking vampire—one born into the clan rather than turned. Favors like that didn't come lightly.

"We should handle this fast. Don't let that freak take him away!" One of the vampires growled.

A few vampires could no longer hold back and rushed toward Downey, their fangs bared in eager anticipation.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Downey fired off a series of shots, his aim somewhat erratic. Only one bullet struck its target, and even then, it only grazed a vampire's cheek.

"Once I get out of this, I need to train more," Downey muttered to himself, wiping the sweat off his brow. His limited military training hadn't prepared him for this level of combat.

The wounded vampire staggered but quickly regained his footing. He grinned, scooping up the blood dripping from his wound and savoring it with a perverse pleasure.

"That toy you're playing with isn't bad, but it won't save you," he hissed.

Before he could finish his thought, two mini-Transformers launched forward, their chainsaws whirring as they sliced through his legs. He screamed in agony, collapsing to the floor.

The other vampires rushed forward, their lust for blood intensifying as they saw the fresh wounds.

Now fully committed, more vampires began closing in. Vampire followers—humans who had betrayed their own kind for a chance at vampiric immortality—drew their guns, adding their firepower to the mix.

Downey dived behind the bar, using it as cover. His armor reassembled itself into several firearms, and he opened fire, blowing off heads left and right.

But vampires were notoriously hard to kill. As long as they had blood, they could regenerate their injuries quickly. 

Downey's makeshift weapons weren't silver or sunlight—both necessary to end them for good.

One particularly vicious vampire screamed, "I want his blood! Mutant blood is a delicacy!" He lunged at Downey, but a burst of bullets left him severely wounded.

Another Vampire followers, hoping to ingratiate himself with the vampires, suggested, "Why don't we turn him into one of us? He'd be a powerful ally!"

His suggestion was met with violent resistance. The vampires, in their frenzy, tore him apart on the spot. It was too late for diplomacy.

Amidst the chaos, a figure entered the bar. He was tall and distinguished, with the air of authority. 

His face was square-jawed, and he carried himself with the quiet confidence of someone who had lived for centuries.

"Stop this madness! Is this how you welcome me?" the man barked, his voice thick with irritation.

Downey, using the brief distraction, quickly assembled a large blade from his arsenal and severed the head of a vampire nearby.

"They're not welcoming you," Downey quipped. "They're welcoming me." He activated his communicator, signaling Optimus Prime to come charging in.

The middle-aged vampire—who had clearly lived for centuries—was enraged. "Who do you think you are?"

"I'm your worst nightmare."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Optimus Prime crashed through the wall. His towering, two-meter-tall metal form was a sight to behold, and the destruction he caused was instant. The walls crumbled like paper beneath his powerful frame.

"What is that thing?!" the vampire leader gasped, momentarily frozen in fear.

A follower rushed in from outside, screaming about a truck transforming into a robot. The vampire leader, however, kicked him aside in fury.

"Do you think I'm blind?" he snarled, his composure cracking under the pressure.

Optimus Prime wasted no time. He raised his heavy weapon and unleashed a barrage of firepower into the bar. 

Downey could feel the vibration in the air as Optimus began wiping out the vampires left and right.

"Too late to talk now!" Downey called out mockingly. With Optimus Prime's strength backing him up, Downey charged forward, fully intent on making it out of the vampire stronghold alive.

The bar descended into chaos, but Downey had the upper hand. With Optimus by his side, there was no stopping him now.

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