literature

Transformers Forever Prologue

Deviation Actions

Published: Jan 6, 2008

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Literature Text

((PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read the artist's comments before reading this fic. It's sort of both a disclaimer and an explanation. Thanks much!))</u>

Dying had been easier than he ever could have imagined.

Not that he had wanted to die. It wasn't something he'd had a choice in. He had died, however, defending his Autobots, and that was what mattered.

Here, however, was not where he wanted to be. He had expected to become one with the Matrix... to rejoin those before him, hidden away to history and all, communing with the current holder of the ancient artifact in order to try to teach him how to lead an army that, until then, would have seen him as just another soldier.

No, here... was different. He was staring in silence at the back of a femme who seemed so quiet... so distant. "Excuse me," he murmured, watching her. "Where am I?"

"You are everywhere."

That didn't answer his question. The former Prime sighed, shaking his head. "No... I... that's not possible. Isn't this the Matrix?"

"Do you think it is?"

"You're not answering me straight."

"You're not asking the right questions."

Optimus Prime took a deep breath and calmed himself. She had to answer correctly... but apparently, only if he asked her correctly. "Is my spark, right now, inside the Matrix... where we are now?"

The femme turned toward him, and he was immediately stricken by how strangely familiar she looked. "Yes." She tipped her head to one side. "Welcome, Optimus Prime. I've been expecting you... for a long, long time."

Immediately, Optimus went on the defensive. He had never met her, but she knew him... and she had apparently been waiting for him. "Why?"

"Why else? Because you're important." She smiled, then, turning away to look out into the emptiness of the ether. "You look upset."

The mech gave a sigh, pressing his thumb against the bridge of his nose, just visible over his faceplate. "You're still not giving me straight answers."

Again, she smiled. "That's because you're still not asking the right questions."

The Prime let out a deep sigh. "Why have you brought me here?"

"I brought you here to show you something... important." She motioned for him to come up beside her, and when he did, she looked out into the ether. "At the beginning of time, there existed two brothers, far larger than any world," the small, quiet femme stated. "They called themselves Primus... and Unicron. Primus desired to find a safe orbit, transform himself to his dormant state, and rest. Unicron, however, was consumed by the hunger of searching the cosmos. He desired a quicker means of replenishing his greatly diminished strength. Even as his brother transferred his astral body into a giant mechanism, and transformed from machine to planet, Unicron did the same... but he did not fall dormant. He departed... leaving Primus to hibernation alone."

When she turned, so did Optimus. He was curious now. Why was she telling him this? And more importantly... what was she telling him? The version of Cybertron's history he knew was much different than what this femme was telling him. Who was she, anyway...? And why was she inside the Matrix?

There was no answer to these questions, however, and the femme simply waved one hand, causing the imagery around them to shift to Cybertron. The only difference between the Cybertron he knew and the one he was seeing was that it was barren... desolate. Not from war, however... it was simply from lack of use. This was a world long before being inhabited.

The femme was silent barely a moment longer. "Unicron had plans, however. He intended to use his brother to power himself... he had plans to devour his own brother." She waved a hand and the ether of this strange Between shifted, showing the living skin of the planet moving, bubbling... a form was rising from it. "Primus needed help."

Here, Prime turned to look at the femme. This was a story that, for some reason, sounded more and more familiar to him. He couldn't figure it out. He didn't know why. This shouldn't have sounded familiar. After all, every sparklet knew the history of Cybertron. Didn't they?

He wanted to question further, but the femme was already moving on as the imagery changed. The very surface of the planet shifting, changing, bubbling up. A frame rose, gasping a first terrified breath to cool superheated systems. Slowly, the protoform gained a shape and form, a boxy frame with a feminine face. "He created a being he called Prima. This being was crude... it was, after all, only a prototype. This prototype was the first... the original. The first living Prime. Primus gave it a spark... and a fragment of himself that he called..."

"The Matrix." Optimus gave a slight nod. "I've heard the voices of Primes before, speaking through it..."

Realization dawned and he looked at the femme with renewed awe and respect. Suddenly, all those times the matrix had spoken to him came through with perfect clarity. He understood now what it had been trying to tell him when that soft, feminine voice murmured through him from his very core. "He created you."

*************************

Stiff.

That was how everyone was to him now. He could listen to so many mechs talk, and they all acted like they were so distant from him. He'd never seen them act like this toward Optimus... it was so strange and foreign. Even now, as Ultra Magnus spoke to him, he felt distant. He understood to some extent that Ultra Magnus' bitterness was due to the fact that it had been his brother who was Prime before, but...

Ugh. More protocol. He was almost happy when he finally went his separate ways with the city commander, doing his best to look like he wasn't so pleased about it. Quietly, he slipped into the nearest room... and stopped dead. He hadn't expected to enter this room, and moreover, he hadn't particularly wanted to be here. The room of history... this was the mausoleum.

And Optimus Prime was staring right at him.

*************************

"I don't understand, Prima. Why has this never been revealed to anyone?"

The femme glanced at him. "Surely you know the story, Optimus Prime. The Quintessons informed everyone that they were the true creators of the transformer race... they wanted everyone to think that they were the ones who had done such a grand thing." Her optics dimmed. "They got the idea from the dark one."

Here, she glanced up, and the ether shifted into a new shape. Optimus had seen that figure before, in dark nightmares he could never explain. Black armored mech with piercing ruby optics... and he noticed that even Prima looked frightened. "Prima... who is he?"

"He... is the Fallen," Prima whispered in reply. "Only I know him as Animus. He was one of my brothers... one of the originals. He was swayed by the power of Unicron, and his strength nearly destroyed us all. But we held him off... long enough to give Primus the strength to fight back."

Prime slowly nodded. "Yes... I've heard your voice, speaking through the Matrix..." He paused. "That's why this has never been a shock to me... isn't it? This is why I knew this before you told me..."

Slowly, the femme smiled. "That isn't the only place you've heard me, Optimus Prime. I'm a part of you far deeper t han the Matrix itself." Prime blinked, looking curious. "You know what I mean."

Slowly, curiously, Prime tilted his head to one side, then blinked. "You... are me."

"Reincarnated thousands of times, always shifting, always growing. Many Primes have felt the influence of the Matrix... but you, among all, are unique. You are the first to be a reincarnate of the first, your spark having taken its course from the Well of All Sparks from me. I speak to you through the Matrix, and through your very spark. As it was written, so it shall be." She spread her arms wide. "As I rose from the living skin of our creator Primus, you must rise again... to restore order and vanquish the children of our ancient foe. You... and the first twelve. As it was written, so it shall be."

Prime stepped forward. What was she talking about? "Prima, please! I don't understand! My time is done; Rodimus is Prime Elect. So why do you come to me now? Answer me, Prima!"

"Do not interrupt me!" The femme's voice had taken on an almost overpowering echoed tone, her optics glowing brightly as she took a few steps toward him. "You know as well as I that Rodimus Prime is not fit to carry the mantle he has been so prematurely handed. He will not be able to do what the future has laid forth for you. My brothers must be found, and you shall find them. Custos, Paratus, Canticum, Medicus, Munitor, Decor, Stipatores, Patientia, Munio, Furtim, Veritas, and Animus. As it was written... so it shall be." Her optics dimmed, and her voice returning to normal. However, as she spoke, it gained a new cadence, as if every Prime was speaking through her as named. "I am Prima. We are Primon. We are Penitus Prime. We are Guardian Prime. We are Levitus Prime. We are Genisis Prime. We are Nova Prime. We are Sentinel Prime. We are Optimus Prime. We are all that has come before and all that will be. We are one... now and for all eternity. As it was written... so it shall be!"

Those words were the last Optimus Prime heard before his world exploded into simple, blinding blue...

*************************

Rodimus was silent.

Why had fate so fortuitously led him here? The mausoleum was painfully depressing, and the sight of Optimus Prime's body, still and so meticulously kept, still sent chills down to his very spark. He had been his role model, an ideal, an impossible truth in the storm. Now... his life ended, his legacy done. He never had the opportunity to teach Hot Rod how to lead, or commune with the Matrix. His sudden death had robbed the Autobots of so much. Had it prevented his spark from joining the Matrix as well? Was that why he could never hear him?

"So many legends." He spoke softly, optics drifting over the faces of the many who were lost. "This hallowed place is full of these... tales of compassion... of bravery, of honor. this is truly a hall fit for such revered heroes, and yet... why do I feel so unworthy?" Again, he let his gaze drift, staring in reverent silence at some of the greatest names of the Great War. "Ratchet, Wheeljack, Prowl, Ironhide... everyone knows your names. And why shouldn't they? You were beacons of hope in an endless night."

Slowly, he turned... and looked at him. Him. One of the most legendary mechs to ever live. "What can I say? I idolized you. I still do. You were everything all of us wished we could be. When Kup told old stories, when he spoke of the Primes, you were spoken of with the most reverence. When I was still with the Wreckers, stories of your bravery gave us the courage to carry on." He sighed. "When you and your crew went missing, we remembered. Hope kept us strong. Now you are truly gone. What can we do? How will we survive without your firm guidance?"

As if the words were too heavy for the young Prime, Rodimus finally sunk to his knees, scrubbing his hands across his face. "I can't apologize enough. I was, and am, so young. I was wreckless and impulsive. My only want was to make you proud, and my childish need for that acceptance resulted in your death." He frowned. "How can I make up for that? How do I make the others understand I never meant to hurt anyone?"

How heavy the air felt, weighing him down, pushing into those shadowy corners he wished he could disappear into. "You often spoke of how the Matrix spoke to you... how the ancient Primes gave you advice on how to lead. Why do I not hear them? Why do I not hear you?! I hear none of the Primes. The Matrix is silent to me, and I barely feel its soothing warmth." His head shot up, jaw tight, hands in a tight fist. "Why?! Why can't I hear you?! What have I done to deserve this solitude?! I can't do this alone!"

He stopped then, breathing hard, cycling air as rapidly as he could to cool systems overheated by his outburst. Somewhere, surfacing from out of the fog of his despair, he felt a strange pain. His chest ached, but it was nothing like being shot or struck. It was an empty, hollow pain, small at first, but growing. Exactly what the problem was could not be determined without medical attention, he knew, but before he could focus his attention on calling First Aid, the pain suddenly grew exponentially in strength, causing him to curl forward with a muffled cry, clutching his chestplate.

What was this horrid pain? Where was it coming from? The young Prime had no time to further question his predicament. Soon the pain clouded his vision and, with a quiet groan, he slumped forward as the piercing agony forced his system into complete stasis lock.

"TFF" is an AU story taking place five years after 1986's "Transformers: the Movie." It draws from some of the old comic canon, some of the Dreamwave canon, and some fanciful reenvisioning of both. Characterizations and original history drawn from cartoon canon. This is the result of months of planning and has no affiliation with IDW's upcoming "First Thirteen." In the canon I have come to know and love, G1 and BW do not interact with the other continuities a la TF Universe. Please keep in mind that this is AU, so things will play out differently than you may think or expect. :3

Full Title:
Transformers Forever
Prologue: Light at the End of the World

Optimus Prime was one of the greatest warriors ever to live on Cybertron or Earth, and his sudden passing rocked both worlds with its tragedy. Things are not always as they seem, however, as the deceased Prime confronts a mysterious femme inside the Matrix who tells him a strange and unexpected prophecy...

Transformers is the property of HasTak, as are all characters within. The names of the First Twelve are inventions of my own and based on theory, outside of the comic continuity of all Transformers universes existing as one. Mention of the Fallen is from Dreamwave's old comic, but for all's sake, he's not gonna be scary flame boy Mary Sue of DOOM in this. It'll be interesting, though. Make no mistake about that...