PROLOGUE
Cycle 9678 (Earth Year 1878), Sigma VII
“Status report. Now.”
The desolate landscape of Sigma VII surrounded the team of Decepticon scientists and their various pieces of equipment. The howling winds filled Gigawatt’s audio receptors as he leaned in to study his assigned monitor.
“Still no signal, Shockwave, sir,” he said, trying to sound calm and composed like the rest of his crewmates. He failed utterly and even had a bit of a stutter. While this earned him a few glares from the others, Shockwave did not seem to notice as he began pacing around the camp.
“Clearly there is an error to our calculations,” the purple cyclopean Decepticon said. “The first subject that we sent to the projected cycle of 9815 was a logical outcome, given the distance of time… but that does not account for the others we have lost so far.”
“I hate to sound like a pessimist, but I think that they’ve simply died,” said Brushguard. His wrist-mounted claws made him look almost out of place among the assembled Decepticon scientists. “The probabilities of them being torn apart by the transwarp energies was already projected to be forty-seven percent. We might have simply underestimated that percentage.”
“Perhaps,” Shockwave replied. “In any case, I believe the results of today’s test have been conclusive enough. We have already exhausted all of our test subjects anyway. Store away all of the equipment while I prepare a report of the results for Lord Megatron.”
While Brushguard and the other scientists began to put away their equipment, Gigawatt looked back at his monitor. While there was indeed no signal or transmission being picked up from the last test subject they had sent through time with a transwarp drive… there was some sort of oddity of fluctuations showing up on his screen. He had meant to mention it to Shockwave, but the embarrassment he had felt from trying to speak earlier had caused him to clamp up. He looked around the camp, hoping to catch the optics of one of the other, but it seemed as if everyone was trying to avoid his gaze, pretending as if he didn’t exist.
He had to speak up, surely. Who knows, maybe what he was seeing was really important and could turn this whole project on its head. Maybe he would be rewarded for bringing such an important development to the Sigma Project. Maybe Megatron would even promote him and—
“Hey, goggles!”
Gigawatt jumped and he turned around to see Shockwave’s assistant drone Fistfight rolling up to him, waving a claw angrily. “Are your audio sensors malfunctioning?” the diminutive bot snapped. “The boss said to pack things up already!”
“I—I’m s-sorry, Fistfight. It’s j-just that….” Gigawatt waved a hand at his monitor. “Th-there’s s-something on here th-that… that—”
“Well, why didn’t you say anything earlier?” Fistfight rolled over to his station and extended his pistons to raise himself high enough to see the monitor himself. “Did you pick up a signal from one of the subjects?”
“Well, n-no,” Gigawatt admitted. “But s-some of these f-f-fluctuations indicate that maybe… th-that maybe—”
“Maybe what?” Fistfight snapped. “Speak up, goggles, before I get your voice box rescrambled.”
“Th-there’s really no simpler way of saying this, but I b-believe they’ve ended up in another universe.”
Silence fell over the Decepticon camp, save for the howling winds, as Fistfight and the others stared at Gigawatt. Even Shockwave had stopped where he had been headed and was now staring at the silver-plated mech with his single yellow optical sensor.
“Please repeat that last statement, Gigawatt,” Shockwave said coolly.
Gigawatt felt his entire body freeze up, his voice box threatening to go mute entirely. Through sheer will alone, he managed to turn around and face Shockwave, barely managing to find and speak the words he wanted to say.
“Th-the energy fluctuations f-from the last f-few t-tests indicated a sh-shift of t-temporal ener-energy,” he stammered. “They were… they were d-different from the tests in which we-we m-managed to retrieve a subject from a time p-period.”
Brushguard scowled at him. “What the frag are you trying to say?”
“I b-believe that we have s-somehow managed to break through the barrier between—between universes and s-sent our subjects to another reality—”
“Bah! What a load of scrap! Hate to break it to you, kid, but alternate realities have long been debunked by bots who have been at this longer than you. And are smarter than you.”
“Not necessarily,” Shockwave intoned. “While you are correct that the Autobot scientist Perceptor published a work prior to the war that supposedly debunked the existence of alternate realities, his reasoning was based on assumptions rather than hard proven facts. While he may be correct about alternate realities not existing, it is equally likely that he is incorrect in his own assumptions.”
“Um, right,” Brushguard muttered. “So does that mean what Goggles is saying is true or a load of bunk?”
“That depends.” Shockwave looked over at Gigawatt’s monitor. “What is it about these so-called ‘fluctuations’ that leads you to the conclusion that they have been sent to another reality, as opposed to them simply having perished as Brushguard here theorizes?”
“I… I…” Gigawatt looked away awkwardly. “It’s hard for me to say, sir. I just don’t think they indicate their d-deaths. I think that they… that they may still be alive.”
“That very well might be the case,” Shockwave said. “I suppose there is only one way to successfully prove either your or Brushguard’s hypothesis.”
Gigawatt looked up at him, confused. “H-how is that, sir?”
“Fistfight, retrieve the last of the experimental drives. Flatline, prepare for the necessary operations.”
The next several minutes happened in a blur. Before he knew it, he was on the ground, pinned by a cackling Flatline as his chest plating was torn open. Fistfight then rolled in and shoved a clunky device into the cavity that Flatline had made, which the Decepticon surgeon then fully integrated with a few last-minute incisions. Throughout the whole process, Gigawatt cried in confusion, unable to form coherent words as he struggled in vain against Flatline’s grip.
When the operation was finally done, Shockwave was now standing over him, his yellow optic blazing.
“If you can successfully travel to and from one of these supposed alternate realities, then it will be clear that your hypothesis is correct.” He leaned down and pressed a switch on the transwarp device installed into Gigawatt’s chest. It glowed as it hummed to life. “If you fail to return… then I’m afraid we will have to assume the worst-case scenario.”
“Y-y-you can’t do this!” Gigawatt pleaded.
“I am afraid it is the only logical course of action to resolve this little debate.”
Anything else Gigawatt could have said would have been immediately silenced, as a wave of bright blue energy enveloped him and sent him tumbling through an eternal white void.
CROSSING OVER
Part 3: When Worlds Collide
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