CHAPTER SEVEN: STUCK IN TIME
Earth-9814
“Finally awake, are we?”
Prowl groaned as his systems stirred back online. As he adjusted his optical sensors to the lighting of the dark underground chamber he was apparently in, he quickly became conscious of the fact that a massive spider was hovering over him, drool dripping from its maw.
It did not take him long at all for him to put a name to the monstrous sight. “Tarantulas….”
“It has been too long,” the Predacon arachnid hissed, clicking his mandibles. “We have much to catch up on.”
Prowl groaned as he shifted himself to sit upright, but only slightly as he tried to keep his distance from Tarantulas’s hideous visage. “You… you’re the one who brought me back. Saved me from death. Why?”
“I would like to think that we’ve known each other long enough for you to already know the answer to that,” Tarantulas replied. “Simply because I could. Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve created, was for the purpose of seeing if it could be done. From Aequitas to the Noisemaze… to Ostaros.”
A painful silence hung on that last name as Tarantulas shifted into his robot mode, using his arm to pin Prowl back down as he leaned with his optical visor narrowed menacingly.
“I know the truth now, Prowl. The truth you tried to hide from me. That Ostaros is alive.”
Prowl frowned back at Tarantulas’ hideous visage. “So you received the message.”
“I did. Which is part of the reason why I worked so hard to bring you back; so you could answer for all of your deceptions. Not just to me, but to everyone you know and love. Well, if you’re even capable of love….”
Prowl chose to ignore the latter remark. “There’s no way I could have told you. After… after you were thrown into the Noisemaze, I rescued Ostaros and had him inducted into the Autobot ranks. Gave him a new name, a new life. I had to give him new memories as well, to hide his true nature from High Command. Only a handful knew the truth; Impactor, of course, Kup….”
He sighed and turned his head to avoid Tarantulas’ pressing gaze. “But when you came back—when you captured me—I couldn’t bring myself to tell you the truth. I realized you had gone mad and I didn’t want to bring any unnecessary harm to Sprin—to Ostaros. He already lives a dangerous life enough as it is.”
“So I’ve gathered,” Tarantulas hissed. “Leader of the Wreckers, isn’t he? Not the life I expected for him… but I can’t say I’m not proud, nonetheless.”
The Predacon moved away from him and Prowl watched as he moved towards the array of monitors that comprised the Timemaze. Each screen was constantly changing, showing a different moment in time or even a different reality every other minute. One screen in particular displayed what appeared to be Springer, albeit in a more stylized body-type, clashing blades with a massive Decepticon that resembled the one known as Spinister.
“My latest creation—the Timemaze, I call it—has given me a window into Ostaros’ potential,” Tarantulas went on. “Multiple windows, in fact. In this reality you’re seeing now, he has attained the rank of Prime—although the title does not carry the same weight as it does here—and leads a crusade of vengeance against the butchers of his teammates. In others that I have witnessed, he does attain the Matrix of Leadership himself and leads Cybertron into a new Golden Age.”
Prowl stared at the various screens, barely able to process what he was seeing and hearing. “Are you saying… these are other realities? Parallel universes?”
“Is that uncertainty I hear in your voice?” Tarantulas cackled. “My, that’s quite a rare occurrence! But yes, you are correct. Originally I had intended the Timemaze to simply allow me to access the past and future of our universe… but it has already transcended my own expectations. Sometimes, I amaze even myself.”
Prowl shook his head. “Tarantulas… Mesothulas… this is dangerous, even for you. Transwarp technology is already dangerous enough, to the point where I’ve regretted even approving test projects for it out of fear of what the Decepticons would do with it. But this… this could break reality as we know it.”
“Which is exactly the point!” Tarantulas spread his arms high and wide, basking in the glory of his invention. “At last, you finally understand! It only took a few thousand years, but we got there in the end!”
Prowl looked around the chamber, searching for the others. Bumblebee and Bulkhead were laying on slabs close to his, still offline. Near them was a cell that was the right size for a human or human-like being, perfect for Sari… but she was nowhere to be seen.
“Where is Sari?” he asked, almost without thinking.
“Taken an interest in her as well, have you?” Tarantulas chuckled. “She is quite the fascinating specimen.”
“Answer the question,” Prowl snapped.
“Well, why don’t you see for yourself?”
With that, Tarantulas pressed a button and the monitors on the Timemaze changed again, and Prowl could only stare in shock at what he saw.
Twenty-five years ago
This can’t be happening.
Sari took a deep breath to calm her nerves. She did everything she could to convince herself that she hadn’t been sent back twenty-five years into the past (even though she had) and focused on the massive blue and yellow robot standing in front of her. Remarkably, he didn’t seem to be freaking out or trying to kill her, despite wearing a Decepticon badge. Instead, he seemed to be regarding her with a not-small-amount of intrigue—something she was getting rather tired of. Just once, she wished someone would look at her like she was a normal person, rather than some sort of freak of nature.
“I’m sorry,” the Decepticon said, “but I don’t know how to help you.”
“Come on,” she said exasperatedly. “Don’t you Decepticons have time machines by now? I’m pretty sure Wheeljack said—”
“Hey, new guy! What’s the hold up?”
Sari stiffened as a red Cybertronian car drove up and transformed, coming up to stand behind the larger blue and yellow mech. Upon noticing Sari, the red Decepticon drew a blaster and pointed it at her but regarded her with curiosity rather than outright disgust.
“What is that thing? Some kind of Mini-Con? Seems kind of squishy for one….”
Sari swallowed hard and looked frantically to the blue bot, who simply stared back at her with a blank look. As her mind raced for an alibi of some sort, the red Decepticon slowly lowered his weapon, his expression changing as if a realization had suddenly dawned on him.
“Wait a minute,” he said. “I know exactly what you are.”
“You do?” Sari asked, her tone mixed with worry and confusion.
“Yeah. You’re like me. An interloper. Someone who doesn’t belong.” Holstering his weapon, the Decepticon tapped the side of his crimson helmet. “See, I’ve got what you meatbags would call a ‘sixth sense.’ I dunno if I’ve always had it, or if it’s a feature of being from another reality. But I can tell you’re not from this time. You’re from the future. Or the past, depending on what direction you came from.”
Sari shook her head. “I’m sorry, but did you say something about another reality?”
The Decepticon shrugged. “Not important. All I care is that you can time travel, something which these Decepticons are still trying to master. If I can get my hands on whatever you’re using, then I can ditch these losers and not have to spend another nanoklik in this lame-ass universe.”
“You don’t understand,” Sari said. “I didn’t use something to time travel; I was thrown into a—”
“Deadlock! Expanse!” A harsh voice crackled over the two Decepticons’ communicators. “Where the frag are you? You’re supposed to be with us tearing Autobots apart, and yet I only see Slicer doing that!”
The red Decepticon—Deadlock, Sari figured—rolled his optics as he answered the call. “Hey, uh, Bug Bite, is it? Look, don’t take this personally, but you can just shove it up your afterburner for all I care. I don’t take orders from you, okay? Thanks.”
“What the frell did you just say to me?! You don’t talk to me like—”
Deadlock ended the call before Bug Bite could finish his rant. “Boy, what a pain in the exhaust pipe,” he muttered to himself. “Anyway, where were we?”
“Getting away from my quarry.”
All three turned at the sound of the harsh voice and Deadlock was struck square in the chest by a blast of energy, sending him crashing to the ground. Emerging from behind a rock formation was a hulking mechanoid being (but not Cybertronian, from what Sari could tell) with a grill-like face structure and a fully loaded arsenal of weapons. Steam exhumed heavily from the robot’s vents as red eyes blazed furiously.
“Now then,” Death’s Head said. “Time to finish what I started, yes?”
Mojoworld
Gears couldn’t tell if his head was spinning, or if that was just the way the world worked.
All around him, Transformers and superheroes of all kind clashed with the massive robots known as the Sentinels. Other-Gears had already successfully punched his way through the chest of one with some sort of pressure-powered fist. Spider-Girl and her fellow superheroes seemed to fending for themselves pretty well, likely having experience with these machines.
Some of the others, however, were not so fortunate. The small Autobot Silverstreak had already been crushed beneath the foot of a Sentinel, which was now being attacked by a vengeful Fallback. Whirl had tried to attack the Sentinels from the air in his helicopter mode, only for one of them to grab him and crush them with its hand before throwing him into some of the organic heroes, no doubt killing a few of them.
And then… there was Decimus Prime.
Gears still did not know what to make of him, but he now knew for a fact that Decimus Prime was definitely not Cybertronian. At least, not like any he had ever met.
As soon as the battle had started, Decimus Prime had changed shape, but not in the way most Transformers did. Instead, he glowed with some sort of bright green energy and morphed into a hulking, four-armed organic creature—a Tetramand, if Gears’ limited knowledge on xenobiology was anything to go by. The Tetramand had then lunged at a Sentinel and started pounding at its face with all four of his fists. Once he had done a considerable amount of damage, the Tetramand then leaped away and morphed into an Arburian Pelarota, rolling up into a ball and smashing into the head of another Sentinel.
Gears had watched all of this in a state of utter shock and disbelief; a state that he was only roused from when a Mini-Con flew into him to get his attention.
“Hey!” the small light-blue bot snapped. “Don’t just stand there or you’ll get crushed!”
“Thanks, I figured that,” Gears grumbled back. He then gestured at the Arburian Pelarota that was now bouncing between Sentinels. “I’m sorry, but am I the only one who thinks that’s bizarre?”
“I doubt it, but is it any less bizarre than everything else that’s going on?” Not waiting for an answer, the Mini-Con transformed into a blaster and forced himself into Gears’ hands. “Now shut up and start blasting!”
Gears quickly moved into action, firing the Mini-Con at the Sentinels. His partner seemed to pack quite the punch, blasting considerably large holes in the Sentinels’ chests and tearing off their arms and legs. It wasn’t long before the tide of battle was turned, and several dozen Sentinels quickly became just three.
The remaining machines slowly backed up as Autobots and superheroes began to corner them. One of them raised a hand to fire a blast of energy at Spider-Girl but Gears moved quickly, firing his Mini-Con partner and blasting the Sentinel’s head to pieces. The second one was swiftly torn apart by a red-and-purple clad heroine who seemed to have control over metal. This left the third and final one to Decimus Prime, who morphed into a massive white and red giant that grabbed the Sentinel and raised it high over his head, ripping it apart like it was a mere doll.
“Seriously?!” Gears cried up to the giant. “You mean this whole time you could’ve changed into that?!”
“Hey, man,” the giant replied. “The Omnitrix isn’t always super-reliable. Believe me, Way Big was my first choice, but—”
“Look, I don’t know what any of those words mean. Just… just forget it.”
As Gears rubbed a hand over his faceplate, his Mini-Con partner detached himself and transformed back into robot mode. “Hey, not bad! We make a pretty good team. What was your name, again?”
“Gears,” he mumbled.
“Sweet. You can call me Eclipse.” The Mini-Con rubbed his chin. “Come to think of it, I think I knew a Gears in my reality. I’m from Earth—”
Gears sighed. “I really don’t care.”
“Hey!” He looked up to see Spider-Girl swinging over to him. “Thanks for the save back there. That was pretty badass.”
Despite himself, Gears felt a smile twitch across his faceplate. “Hey, don’t mention it. Wouldn’t be much of an Autobot if I just let you get obliterated or something.”
“Well, that sure was something,” remarked Other-Gears, dusting off his hands. “What happens now?”
His answer came in the form of the ceiling opening up again. Gears braced himself for more Sentinels, but instead only a single machine dropped down. Said machine was also much larger than any of the Sentinels, clad in black armor plating with gray wing panels hanging off its back. In its hand was some sort of red laser sword, which seemed to bathe the entire arena in its glow.
Gears glared at his counterpart. “You just had to ask, didn’t you?”
* * *
“Stage Two has successfully begun, my liege. The DV-1 from Earth-7977 has been deployed.”
“Uh-huh. Great,” was all Mojo said as he stared at his monitors.
Major Domo cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. “Is… is everything all right, my liege?”
Mojo pointed to one of the screens, which showed a rather unimpressive human male (compared to the superheroes and robots he was surrounded by) laying dead on the ground, having been crushed by the Sentinels. “Who the hell is that?”
Major Domo looked down at his datapad. “Ah, I believe that is… hm. A relative of Jean Grey, it would seem. From Earth-21315.”
Mojo’s hairless brow furrowed. “Earth-213…. What intellectual property is that associated with? Doesn’t sound like one of the X-Men realities we usually pull from.”
Major Domo checked his notes again. “I believe it is… something called Fifty Shades of—”
“WHAT?!” Mojo spun around in his mobile carapace, startling Major Domo so much that his datapad flew out of his hands. “Are you trying to sabotage me?! You expect me to put characters from Fifty Shades of Grey in a crossover with X-Men and Transformers?! That will ruin us! I will be the laughing stock of the entire Mojoverse!”
Major Domo shrunk beneath his master’s rage. “But—but, sir! It was at your request—!”
“My request?! I would never authorize such a brain-dead, creatively bankrupt notion such as to….” Mojo trailed off as he noticed Major Domo’s datapad laying nearby. He snatched it up and looked at its notes before fixing Major Domo with a baleful glare.
“Dwayne. I wanted Dwayne Johnson. Not Dakota. Not Don. Not even Boris. DWAYNE JOHNSON! You know, the Rock?!”
Major Domo swallowed hard. “Sir… sir, we can’t afford the Rock.”
“Bullcrap we can’t afford him!” Mojo hurled the datapad across the room. “How can he be in so many cheap generic action movies if he’s so expensive?” Breathing heavily, Mojo ran a hand over his face as he turned away from Major Domo, doing everything he could to calm himself down. “Look, just… just find a Black Adam to throw in. Or a Roadblock. Or even a Cliffjumper. Our ratings are already starting to drop, even after that Sentinel battle. Not even the Vader robot is bringing them back up!”
As Mojo’s apparatus shifted him around the room nervously, his eyes landed on the stationary Expanse, standing in the corner of the room as he awaited deployment for the next stage. Red eyes narrowing, Mojo turned his attention back to Major Domo, who was about to leave to carry out his orders.
“There’s one more thing I want you to do.”
Major Domo stopped and dutifully turned to face his master, as cowed as he was. “Yes, my liege?”
“That new reality we found… the one Expanse and that Autobot are from… what was it called again?”
“Earth-9814, my liege.”
“Bring up everything that’s been cataloged in that reality. And I do mean everything—every person, every location, every MacGuffin, every—”
Before Mojo had even finished speaking, Major Domo had already performed the search and brought up the results on his datapad. He passed it to his master with an apprehensive look and Mojo took the device, gleaming the information with greedy red eyes. A grin slowly stretched across his wide face the further he read through the contents.
“Oh, my,” he said. “Maybe this will be much more profitable than I thought….”
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