Astrosecond: .5 seconds
Nano-klik: 1 second
Klik: 1 minute
Breem: 8 minutes
Cycle: 1 hour 15minutes
Solar-Cycle: One day (20 hours)
Lunar-Cycle: One night (20 hours)
Deca-cycle: 4 weeks (one month)
Mega-cycle: 96 hours (four days)
Meta-cycle: 12 months (one year)
Stellar Cycle: 6 months
Vorn: 83 years
Mega-vorn: 83,000 years (1000 vorns)
60 mega-vorns: 4,980,000 years
Logically, Sam knew he had saved the world a couple times.
Of course, the only reason he survived long enough and fought hard enough to do the aforementioned saving-of-the-world, was because of his friends and family. 'Friends' being quite a few people who were also instrumental in protecting Earth and held the title of 'ally' (or at least, useful). And 'family' being composed of two slightly-older-then-middle-aged parents, a former car-thief turned specialized mechanic, one technical-inclined conspiracy-theorist, a good handful or two of military personal and their immediate family and five, count'em, five alien lifeforms.
Back to the saving-the-world bit.
When the consequences of your actions have an ending result of saving your planet, yes, obviously, that means that the planet of Earth was saved because of Samuel J. Witwicky's actions on two separate occasions. However, going to back to normal life (with the addition of said alien lifeforms) was simultaneously astonishingly easy and unbearably difficult.
The nightmares, sudden desire to take up track, flinching at loud noises, staring suspiciously police cars, military vehicles, large trucks and even expensive cars with pricey paint jobs was bound to be noticed. By your parents, other parents, teachers, fellow students…and your best friend who you weren't legally allowed to tell anything.
Sam's reactions to perfectly ordinary things were poked and prodded at by various people, mostly those looking to laugh at him, or the odd one or two who recognized the similar patterns in friends and family who worked in…dangerous fields.
The healing injuries had been stared at while Sam had laughed them off as a fight, but the scars that remained told a different story. Those silvery lines on his hands never did fully fade and, well, if his grades in math and physics gradually climbed up to Bs and As…that was just him studying seriously.
The final cherry on top, was that Mikaela Banes didn't mind hanging out with him and seemed to enjoy his company. Considering that they had save each others lives, the lives of Lennox and Epps, Bumblebee and Optimus Prime (not to mention, you know, the planet) with their combined efforts, they had a lot to relate to one another with. Which lead to a deeper relationship. Not to mention a sweet job helping out Rachet on the weekends.
Again, the saving-the-world bit.
Which happened again with the whole AllSpark, pyramids, Optimus dying, Matrix of Leadership, having your face blasted across the world with a capture-alive order, dying, meeting the Primes, Optimus living again and the Egyptians being slightly more grateful the Harvester didn't consume their sun than pissed off one of their several thousand-year-old pyramids was…dismantled.
Yeah, Sam considered himself to be somewhat knowledgeable in doing stupid, reckless, dangerous stuff that nearly got him killed, actually got him killed or almost killed everyone around him, while managing to do even more of the aforementioned stuff that ending up not resulting in an alien invasion or their sun being used as energy.
This, however? This, Sam was so far into unknown territory, he could barely breath. Not that he needed to breath anymore, but if he could, he would hyperventilating. Or throwing or passing out, just generally, out of his mind with fear and ohmygodwhyisthishappeningtome.
The reason for this, what had lead the past events to the currents events could be place squarely on Sentinel Prime's shoulder pads. Sam knew, Primus knew, it was all Sentinel's fault.
Megatron was at fault as well.
All those other Decepticons probably had something to do with it too…
Basically, it wasn't Sam's fault, just Sam had to fix it.
At least, he hoped he could fix it.
Still. Saving-the world.
Or rather, it would be more accurate to say…saving the worlds.
Being actually told he was going to do it, was drastically different from doing the best you could while running for your life, praying people you cared about would live to see another day.
It started like any other day.
Actually, no, that's a lie, it started off pretty great, but things went to pieces a short time later in a FUBAR situation that would go down in history books if it wasn't classified to hell and back. Sentinel Prime was the mentor of Optimus. The one who taught him a lot of the important things that he holds sacred. So Sentinel being a fragging, murdering betrayer was unexpected and incomprehensible. To the Autobots, it was devastating.
It just made him angry. Considering the loss of life in previous years, the soldiers, Jazz, Skids and Mudflap, Arcee, Wheeljack, Ironhide, and Optimus himself (twice, however briefly) there wasn't much in good things in the Autobots' day-to-day life. Having an old mentor/father figure, long thought dead, come back? That must have been the greatest happiness all of the Bot's had in a long time.
Before the Prime killed Ironhide by brutally shooting him in the spark while revealing his alliance with Megatron, that is. The Space Bridges were pretty important for the Decepticons to invade Chicago with, so Sam put that as priority one, in the control matrix taking down. He desperately hoped that when this was all over he could try and use the Matrix of Leadership to revive Ironhide and he prayed to any higher being that was listening that he would be able to save his family once more.
Because they were alive and they came back, thank Primus.
He set off, to the building with the blue light shimmering in between the pillars and the fraggin' space portal hanging over it. The Decepticons tumbling through it were focusing on the other Autobots, so he had a relatively clear path to traverse. Of course, the act of getting up to a place where he could actually do something, required climbing and being careful to avoid attention from the 'Cons who were patrolling, along with a handful of humans.
Fighting ensued when his stealth failed. His winning on the fights was mostly due to the alien tech that he had that Wheeljack had given him before the 'Cons-
Forcibly turning his thoughts away from that, he looked his gaze to the one pillar that was the control matrix. He should have known, right then, that this wasn't going to turn out well.
The thing was, Sam realized looking back on this moment, was that he had an odd relationship with Matrixes of any kind. Also, Primes, there were connections between Primes that he didn't understand.
Primes, Matrixes and the human Samuel J. Witwicky.
Also, saving-the-world. So naturally, there were explosions and buildings crumpling and people screaming, Autobots screaming, Decepticons screaming all in the shadows of the space portal and blue light. It was terrifying and he was so scared because Lennox and Epps, Ironhide- no, he had a job to do and he was going to do it and it didn't matter that Sentinel was blocking his way, he could do this. Later, Sam couldn't tell anyone what happened exactly, beyond Sentinel's furious yelling and the steady stream of curses running through his own head, yet he remembered with clarity the words he heard before everything lit up in a blinding light.
Sam Witwicky. You will save the world.
When he opened his eyes next, it took several minutes for him to process his memories and current status. The last words he heard were in the front of his mind, burning brightly with power that took a bit more time to understand. Next, was the state he was in. Which was quite peculiar as he couldn't see anything. Or feel anything. Deliberately, he attempted to twitch any part of his body.
Okay, panic was setting in and his heartbeat was rising and his breathing was speedin-
He was not breathing.
Nor was his heart beating.
He was dead. He had died taking out the control matrix and he distinctly remembered Sentinel being rather close, so he probably took the traitor with him, but holy Primus he was dead. Again.
Unfortunately (or fortunate, however you choose to look at it), Sam, while being a mostly normal-ish human being, was something of an honorary Prime. Considering that he held the AllSpark as it shattered into Megatron's chest, had it in his head, earned the Matrix of Leadership, met the Primes of Old, was revived by the Primes of Old and then proceeded to do the same with Optimus, the human was definitely Prime material. Granted, he was young, human and inexperienced but he did the right thing when call upon. That Sam went willingly to his death, several times, in defense of the Autobots, was noted.
When Sam and Sentinel Prime were caught up in the control matrix with the space bridge the organic tissue of Sam's body disintegrated and the former Prime's spark was forcibly removed. A decision was made, by the Primes in the Afterlife and by Primus, their creator who gave life to all through the AllSpark.
"Samuel James Witwicky. Valiantly you have fought. For the sake of your world, for the sake of your loved ones. Including Our own. Worthy, you are of the Matrix of Leadership. Worthy of the trust that has been placed in you. Your life for theirs, was a choice you made without hesitation. Their Sparks, into your hands We give. A new future has begun, one you will shape.
Welcome to the ranks of Prime, Janus, protector of Cybertron."
The awe-inspiring voice that tasted of ancient power, invaded his suddenly functioning senses and his entire being, yet as quickly as it came just as it faded away. Awareness slammed into his being painfully and he lurched up, uncoordinated and hurting as he dry-heaved. His eyes darted around in the darkness as he tried to see any familiar surroundings as he catalogue everything he saw. He appeared to be in an alley, a wall at his back and two on his sides, stretching up into the darkened sky. Everything, dull and dingy as it was, had a metallic sheen and he could see movement at the alley's mouth. The sound of moving machinery and distorted words. His thoughts were working so quickly, he could swear he could hear gears whirling and fans kicking in as his processors worked- wait what?
Slowly, Sam shuttered his optics, flexed his digits and clenched his servos. He took a deep breat- no he vented.
He wasn't human anymore. Dear God, what was he? Where was he?
Images flashed, two side by side, one showing a planet glittering like an obsidian in the light shining from its surface, the other, the design of the frame he was. He would have gasped for breath at the sight of the planet which resembled a picture Optimus had once shown him as he spoke of the days before the war.
Cybertron, I am on Cypertron. I am a Cybertronian on Cybertron…before the war?
He spent a moment dwelling in sheer disbelief, recalling the voice that had spoken to him, had that been Primus? The Cybertronian deity Bee spoke about?
Sam shook himself, forcibly turning his attention to the second image, the one he suspected answered his second question. He blinked, slightly put off by the small similarities with Sentinel the blueprints showed. Granted he had a more streamlined look and he could see something of Optimus, but he looked like a modified version of a Prime mix. . He rather liked the paint job, all sleek and polished black with artistic lines of an AllSpark blue and he looked somewhat deadly with, was that a sword?
It was, the schematics helpfully informed him. He didn't have the middle-gripped, double blade and shield combo, that traitor had used, it was a rectangular piece of a dull black metal with a hilt that could be used as both a single and double-handed hold. There was no other weapons... although…it appeared he did keep the blasters. Which were smaller and in his arms…save they weren't called arms anymore. Because according to data text scrolling across his vision, he was a fully-functioning, one-of-a-kind piece of Cybertronian machine. With a new-found knowledge in both language and how to take proper care of himself.
He needed a mirror.
Carefully, he heaved himself to his feet, deliberately ignoring the familiar sounds that he never expected to be the cause of and lifted a…ped…to take a step closer to the metal wall that held enough of a shine to see himself in. He stared in silence at his reflection, struck dumb at actually seeing himself.
His ey-optics, were blue instead of the brown his…human self once had. His frame lacked the flaring out shoulder plates Sentinel had and there weren't any wings or boosters that he could tell, so he was pretty sure he was closer to Optimus's build, rather than Sentinel's.
Which, thank Primus for small mercies.
Several little screens popped up into his…vision, the glyphs of Cybertronian language suddenly making perfect sense to his…brain module. One was pointing out his current location (the city of Simfur) followed by a list of major cities that were nearby. The other was going into further details on the specifications of his bi-pedal and his alt-mode. His alt-mode was wicked. Something that on Earth only the ridiculously wealthy could afford and a visionary engineer could only dream of. It was some combination of a helicopter/fighter jet hybrid and some high-end sports car.
There were no words to describe what he was now feeling.
I…am a robot, Sam thought fuzzily to himself, even as he could hear Bumblebee's offended radio-speak reprimanding him.
Bee's not here and even if he was he wouldn't be my Bee, he realized in horror, I'm not even human anymore and everything is metal and dead and I am alone, oh God, I can't do this! I can't-
A surge of something cut off his thoughts before they could trail into incoherent babbling and his hands- no they're servos now- came up to clutch at his face-plate. His battle mask slid down in an almost instinctual reaction to his rising adrenaline- he didn't have a human body anymore- and he could feel as every function slid from non-combative into battle-ready.
His back-plate hit the wall and he slid down to take on his skidpad as some distant thought remarked that it was a good thing no one would seemed to notice him so whatever was happening, an update to his software, a panic attack, whatever, it would happen with some privacy. He was almost grateful.
Right before his processors informed him of an emanate shutdown to prevent damage due to a sudden influx of a massive amount of data. Going by the familiar feel of energy running through him, he was pretty sure he knew what it was. Nano-kliks before he crashed, Sam, now named Janus Prime, wondered why, when the AllSpark was most assuredly destroyed, did it leave pieces of itself, everywhere?
Sam didn't know how much time passed before he was waking up, but when his optics came online, he registered a tiny face staring squarely at him. His jaw dropped open in disbelief. A tiny Cybertronian was standing on his chest plate, wide red optics fixated on him. It chirped at him, a wordless question as it cocked his head to the side. A small noise escaped Sam's mouth, or rather intake, as he reached up to prevent the sparkling from falling as he sat up.
It was adorable.
He noticed worriedly that it was remarkably small even compared to his servos, also his paint on its frame was dull and scrapped in several areas. Sam had no idea what a sparkling was supposed to look like, non-Con and healthy, and he certainly had no idea to take care of one. However, according to the vivid blue glyphs now scrolling across his view…it would appear that he had some help.
Sam flinched at the wave of energy that flexed its invisible hands into his processors. A curse dropped out of his intake, as the sparkling in his han-servos shifted to grip his digits more securely.
Slag, that's the AllSpark and it's in my head.
"Oi! Lookit wha' we've found here!"
Unfortunately, before Sam could get over this bit of information without descending into hysterics, a voice echoed from the opening of his current hiding place. The once-human instinctively turned up his senses, caught the motions and distinct energy field of spark-chambers of several bots. The little one made a fearful whimper and cowered in his palm. Sam was resigned. Of course, it was always him.
At the girlish-sounding voice tinged with fear and false confidence, something ping'd in his chest. His optics narrowed as he reached for his sword, carefully setting the sparkling on his shoulder as he gathered his pedes underneath him. With a twist of his digits, he wrapped them firmly around the hilt and leaned far back enough into the shadows that passing glances should slide right off of him. He made a hushing sound to the child clinging to his grooves between his shoulder and back plate, which, thankfully, was understood.
Just in time as a small feminine bot entered the alley way, followed swiftly on her heels by five other larger mechs. While the supposed femme's frame was mostly clean and gleaming with a glittering shine, the mechs were dull and dented, obviously worn with several mismatched armor plates. They also carried weapons, blasters and one held some kind of staff that included a ball of visible energy on one end.
Now that they were closer, as the mechs were advancing as the femme was backing up, her optics frantically scanning the impossibly high walls and the thick shadows she was rapidly approaching, Sam could see them more clearly.
It was obvious to him, the mechs were some kind of thugs with weapons training and confidence in their power over the femme, who was both significantly smaller and untrained, while the femme kept looking for assistance from another absent bot. The designs on her frame greatly resembled his own, only they were in a much darker blue and were concentrated on her shoulder plate, gauntlets and her arm guard.
Sam internally sighed and mentally poked the bundle of AllSpark sitting comfortably in his processors.
What did you do?
Not-alone. Future-Servant. Protect.
His vision switched to a rapid download and comprehension of temples, priests, priestess, those in training, those in apprenticeship, differences in the two and all the places where a temple stood in correlation to his current location. No matter that robot-him understood it, human-in-the-robot-him needed a minute to understand. He squinted at the screen. There was a temple not that far away, at least by Cybertronian standards, maybe ten or fifteen miles or so? Or whatever they called their measures of distance.
Still, the situation was appearing to be escalating. Besides the fact the AllSpark wanted him to help, the femme looked pretty young. Not to mention Sam had a soft spot for saving alien robots and the fact that he was now magically of them, really didn't change that. So when the smaller bot went down, throwing her arms up to defend her head, Sam leapt forward, one servos gripping the hilt of his sword, the other going to scoop the sparkling off his back and dump the little one into the girl's lap.
According to the switch from non-combative processors to his battle-computer and the subroutines for thousands of sword styles, Sam was- or rather Janus Prime was very familiar with battle. Sam was too, but he could honestly say he had never used a sword to fight any Decepticons. Not that these were Decipticons, but the point still stood.
With an ease reminiscent of Optimus Prime himself, Sam effectively and efficiently beaten down the four followers and decapitated the leader. He reached out a ped and with an amused twist to his mouth, kicked the metal ball with enough force for it to rocket straight out of his sight. He glanced down at the four as he sheathed his weapon on his back before turning to the apprentice priestess who was gaping at him, the little sparkling protectively held against her spark.
"Are you alright?"
As this was the first time he had spoken, Sam took a moment to appreciate his new voice. Deep and firm, commanding with the concern he felt for the femme gentling the tones. His voice reminded him of Optimus and a surge of emotion in his chest prevented him from saying any more. Had he still been human he would have tears pricking his eyes and a lump in his throat, he was a robot now, but the emotion was still the same. He deeply missed the Prime and even if he were to see hiim again, he would not be the one Sam had grown to care so much for.
The sparkling gave an inquiring chirp, his attention on the once-human, while the femme holding him made a noise that didn't translate into any known language and Sam worried a moment that he would be unable to speak the language (and Dear God, that was another problem on top of the body transplant that he did not want to have a mental breakdown over later!) but when a comprehendible shout from behind them both relived him and sent him on guard.
He bent his knee joints, his digits wrapping around his hilt once more as an older femme, taller and decked out in battle armor with two… warrior-priests? Which were the priests who held a small connection to the AllSpark, not enough for communication or to touch it for longer than a couple cycles, but enough to serve those whose connection was. They both boast similar electric staffs with daggers and probably a blast or two. Whatever threat they saw in him, going by their increasingly hostile movements and the sharp scrap of metal against metal as they drew their weapons, where quickly stalled by the priestess shoving an arm into their path.
Her voice boomed into the reduced space, echoing with power and ringing with authority. She took a step forward and Sam studied her frame. She was shorter than him, less armored, but she carried a single sword, although shorter then his. Her plating was a dark blue with shades of an ice-blue trailing down her sides and disappearing into her black plates, while the familiar detailing were done in silver and covered her entire top half. Her optics were white and there was a metal shroud around her shoulder plates with a pattern of repeating three dimensional squares.
Before he could continue his perusal of the unknown bot, she stepped forward in a powerful stride, drawing his attention to her face easily.
At the audible tones of a beginning accusation, Sam changed his position to a defensive one over the young femme's still prone form, stretching his senses for his sparkling and if the other would make a threatening move. While the priestess herself gave no impression other than severe displeasure, the two at her back shifted their weapons, intending on drawing his attention.
Sam kept his gaze on the femme.
"You," she repeated, "How dare you?! Do you know what you have done? No, you must have, for even if you proclaim your ignorance, your innocence, it will not be accepted!"
Sam totally blanked out.
His confusion must have been visible even through his battle-mask, because the priestess's temper lit up. She bristled, her armor moved and plates shifted and flared as she took a step forward, reaching for her own weapon. Before she could speak another word though, the apprentice scrambled to her pedes and darted in front of him. His sparkling was still in her arms, so Sam moved to a place where he could easily switch places in case the other three got any smart ideas.
"No! Priestess (trailings-of-ice-and-dust-in-the-wake-of-celestial-objects) Icetrail, he is not what you think! He is-"
"Youngling! Do not interrupt me! This one has trespassed against us and must be dealt with!"
Newly identified Icetrail turned a severe look to the little one in apprentice's arms and barely an astro-second later a sword was place at her neck. She would have stumbled back, but Sam reached out, grabbing her chest plate and holding her firmly against the blade, cutting a look to the guards both with blasters aimed at him.
He returned his attention the priestess who was vibrating with fury.
Her voice was barely a whisper, but Sam ignore that and opened his information download on the priests and priestesses and continued to stare directly into her white optics as he accessed the data. It took barely a nano-klik, but when he comprehended it's contents, he smiled. Before Icetrail could further comment into the perceived slights against her, he shoved her back into the arms of her guard, raising his sword to both block the blaster shots and to slice off the ends to render them useless.
He took a step back and laid a protective servo on the shoulder of the youngling.
"As it so happens to be," he spoke with amusement, ignoring the radiating fury from all three temple-bots, "It is not I who dares, rather yourselves. Allow me to demonstrate."
Sam crackled in his mind as he grasped the AllSpark energy and sent it to the details which were apparently conductive designs specifically made for only High Priests, High Priestesses, Primes and Lord-Protectorates. They lit up like a Christmas tree, bathing the surrounding metal in glittering blue, perfect light for feeling/seeing how almost everyone's entire frame radiated absolute shock.
The previously bold and confidant femme could barely get the single word out as she took several steps back. The guards, on the other han-servo, dropped to the knees and bowed their heads.
Of course, their reaction was mild compared to how Icetrail and the apprentice reacted when he pulled out the Matrix of Leadership from his spark chamber. They ended up both crashing. The youngling was the only one that didn't hit the ground, as he caught her and pulled her to his chest plate amid his sparkling's concerned warbles.
The temple guards were frozen in stillness and when Janus Prime stepped to loom above them, he only commanded them to take the Priestess and lead him to the Simfur Temple. There was no question of disobedience, going to the temple was the best choice. A new Prime, overflowing with the energy of the AllSpark itself! A Matrix! Undeniable prove of another Prime, of hope for the future!
Sentinel Prime needed to hear this!
About halfway to their destination, the youngling woke and identified herself as (echoes-of-song-and-soaring-in-freedom-air) Songbird. Sam only blinked at the voice-over he heard as he gently set her down and handed her his sparkling (which, come to think of it, was probably a result of that blast of AllSpark right after his panic attack. His sparkling, huh?). Of course, when Songbird asked for the little one's name, the one thing that came up in his processor was a vivid image of Will Lennox.
"His name is (one-who-is-determined-and-brave) Ironwill."
Newly named Ironwill chirped happily and made little grabby motions towards his creator. Songbird quickly hushed him when Janus showed no sighs of moving to comply. Also, the fact that Icetrail was waking and had decided to take the lead at a faster pace with only passing questioning look to the discovered mech. Upon reaching the table, Sam made sure to show no hesitation in continuing the journey as his every reaction was intensely analyzed and would surely be remembered later on. Walking up the steps of the temple of Simfur was something Sam never in a thousand vorns imagine he would be doing. Bumblebee had only once mentioned he stood guard over the AllSpark in the temple during Optimus and Megatron's reign.
He was also beginning to realize that since the AllSpark was here, there was no war, that would likely mean that he was in the peace period, the Golden Age somewhere in the early or middle years of Optimus, a beloved ally and someone he was proud to call friend and think of as family, and Megatron, a hated enemy who he directly caused or led to his death, several times, ruling the planet as friends and brothers.
Sam was so screwed.
Still…all he had to do was encourage Megatron to keep on the straight and narrow or limit the damages of his war, or directly kill him without making an enemy of out of Optimus. No big deal. Seriously, easy as pie.
Sam…was so very screwed.
Along with the personality upgrade, level-Optimus in leadership vibes, Sam could do everything better. No awkward flailing, pointless rambling and nervous ticks, everything was controlled and calculated. If he were still human, Sam would wonder if he had a split-personality.
As he was a sentient-robot from a world made probably entirely of metal with a visible soul housed in his body with a certainty of who created him and for what purpose…who had also sent him back in time…most likely…
No, he absolutely had a split personality.
He could live with that.
"Sentinel Prime! Lord High Protector Megatron and Optimus Prime! There is an urgent matter that requires your attention!"
On second thought, as he ascended into the temple, straight into a gathering of familiar future Autobots and Decepticons, having Sam, who-is-Janus, and Janus, who-is-Prime, while not actually being human-Sam, was probably a good thing. If Sam had been standing in his place, he would have offlined instantly as every gaze turned towards him even as the AllSpark began to sing. Both, in his head and the one floating in the middle of the sanctuary.
This is all your fault.