URGENT NEWS: 6 SURVIVORS FROM SOCCENT MILITARY BASE HAVE CONTACTED THE GOVERNMENT, ON THEIR WAY HOME
(National Broadcasting Corporation) – After two days of silence following the mysterious tragedy at the Soccent military base in the Middle East, a glimmer of hope has finally appeared: six American soldiers have been confirmed alive and are on their way home.
According to the Pentagon, the soldiers managed to escape from the danger zone and establish contact from a civilian house located far from the base. A rescue mission was immediately launched to bring them to a safe location. They are now on their way back to the U.S. and are expected to arrive within the next 24 hours.
A military official commented:
"This is a miracle amid the loss. Their return not only brings hope but may also help us understand exactly what happened at Soccent."
However, the biggest question remains unanswered: what really destroyed the Soccent military base?
Declassified satellite images show that the base was nearly completely wiped out, not by conventional bombs, but by an unidentified force. Initial reports describe strange ruins, unusual scorch marks, and radio signals filled with interference just before the base lost contact. Some witnesses in the surrounding areas even claim to have seen a blinding light in the night sky, followed by roaring sounds unlike any known military technology.
What really happened that night? Who—or what—attacked Soccent?
The Pentagon has launched a full investigation, while the surviving soldiers may hold the secret that could change everything.
We will continue to update as new information becomes available.
——
As the broadcast ended, Sarah Lennox's phone vibrated in her hand. A new message appeared on the screen.
"I'm still alive. I'm on my way home. I love you and our child."
Sarah froze, her heart seemed to stop. Her breath caught in her chest as her eyes locked onto the words, as if afraid they would disappear at any moment. Her trembling hands touched the screen, scrolling over the words—reading them over and over, struggling to believe that this wasn't a dream.
Then, like a dam bursting, tears streamed down her face. For days, she had lived in worry, sleepless nights, and the fear that the worst had happened. But now, a short message had washed away all the burdens weighing on her heart.
Sarah pulled her daughter into a tight embrace, burying her face in the soft hair of the little girl. Her voice cracked as she whispered through sobs:
- Your Dad's coming home…
The child didn't fully understand what was happening, but she could feel the tremor in her mother's voice. Her small hands gently touched Sarah's tear-streaked face, a clumsy yet loving gesture of comfort.
Outside the window, the night sky was still dark, but in Sarah's heart, dawn had begun to break.
——
INTERSTATE HIGHWAY – 9:42 PM
In the dead of night, the headlights of speeding cars stretched across the dark road. The air outside was still, but inside the old yellow Camaro, Sam's voice continued to fill the silence.
— Listen, Mikaela, if you really think about it, every civilization leaves its mark on future generations. Like the ancient Egyptians—not just the pyramids, but also the sewer systems! Or the Babylonians—they had one of the first legal codes in the world! And the Romans—they invented—
— Sam… — Mikaela interrupted, resting her chin in her hand, looking at him with a mix of curiosity and annoyance. — Do you really think these stories help with our trip?
— Of course! — Sam replied excitedly, absentmindedly placing his hand on the steering wheel, though he wasn't driving. — I mean, those great civilizations left something behind for future generations. Who knows, maybe thousands of years from now, our descendants will look back at the 21st century and say—
Beep.
Bumblebee suddenly made a small sound, as if reminding Sam that he was talking too much. Sam sighed, glanced at Mikaela, and shrugged.
— Alright, alright… I just wanted to make this trip a little less stressful…
Mikaela chuckled. She was about to say something when Sam's phone lit up with a new message.
Miles Lancaster: "Yo, where you at? Got some girl, and you're ditching me? Planning to leave me hanging?"
Sam laughed and quickly swiped across the screen.
Sam: "You were the one who started it, hang in there and I'll visit."
He set the phone down, suddenly remembering something.
— Speaking of which, there's Miles. He once told me that the Egyptians might have used some kind of technology we still don't fully understand to build the pyramids. He reads a lot, like a genius.
Mikaela furrowed her brow. The name sounded familiar.
— Miles… Wait, is he the one who tried to invite me to join you on the ride?
— That's him! — Sam laughed. — He used to hang out with me a lot. Oh, and… he dropped out of school in middle school.
Mikaela turned to look at him, slightly surprised.
— He dropped out? Why?
— Not sure. Miles was smart, his family was rich. But he said he hated how the education system forced students to learn things that he thought were pointless in a boring way. I think he convinced his dad to let him quit school.
Mikaela raised an eyebrow.
— So what did he do after that?
Sam shrugged.
— Stayed home, read books, tinkered with random stuff, occasionally called me to hang out or get together with his other friends. He's also really into history, has his own little group, and I… kind of got in.
Sam smiled lightly, his gaze drifting across the dark horizon ahead.
— Oh, and he's the one who told me not to drop out of school.
Mikaela seemed surprised.
— He dropped out, but told you not to?
— Yeah. He said I wasn't "miserable enough" to quit.
Sam laughed, then suddenly remembered something.
— By the way, Miles is a hard person to figure out. Sometimes he's really lively, but other days he just stays at home and won't come out, even if his friends ask. One time, he disappeared for a few days and then came back, sometimes saying he was learning something, sometimes saying he was traveling.
Mikaela gently shook her head. He sounded more interesting than she thought.
— So, is he still around here?
— Yeah! Still in Los Angeles, sometimes comes over to my house. But I haven't seen him much lately, he's probably busy with some project. Oh, right, one time—
Mikaela leaned back against her seat, continuing to listen to Sam's story, her eyes on the night sky ahead.
She had never really thought much about things like this.
Her life had always been focused on family, school, work—things she could control.
Stories about ancient civilizations, about the strange friend Miles—those all sounded like a different world—a world she had never paid attention to.
AND THEN…
A new Camaro zoomed past from behind.
Its headlights reflected off its glossy yellow paint. Its sleek, modern design completely different from the old Camaro they were in.
Sam almost choked when he saw Bumblebee suddenly zoom past the car.
Blue data streaked through the air.
AND THEN—
THE WHOLE CAR SHUDDERED.
Mikaela screamed, gripping the armrest tightly as Bumblebee began transforming right in the middle of the road.
The old worn-out shell slid off, metal pieces moved and restructured in a frighteningly precise automatic process.
In less than a few seconds, the old Camaro had transformed into a sleek, modern version right before their eyes.
Mikaela stared, her mouth open in shock, unable to say anything.
— WHAT DID HE JUST DO??
Sam was also frozen.
— I DON'T KNOW!!
They both sat there, stunned, watching Bumblebee in complete awe.
He had just transformed.
Right in front of them.
And neither of them was prepared for it.
——
EMPTY LAND – 10:15 PM
The new, shiny Camaro slowly came to a stop in the empty field, its headlights illuminating a wide open space around it. No more engine noise, only the soft sound of the night wind sweeping across the dry grass.
Sam and Mikaela got out of the car, still looking shocked. Mikaela crossed her arms and glanced at Bumblebee with a puzzled expression.
— Alright… Buddy. — she tilted her chin towards him. — What was that? We were just driving and then you upgrade out of nowhere?
Sam crossed his arms, took a deep breath, and nodded.
— Yeah, and more importantly, why did we stop here?
Bumblebee didn't respond immediately. Instead, he turned on the radio.
A deep male voice, laced with static, came through the speakers:
"The guests… above the sky."
Mikaela frowned.
— What?
This time, the voice came through clearer.
"They're coming… The guests above the sky."
Sam's eyes widened, and he turned to look at Mikaela, then up at the night sky.
In the distance, behind the gray clouds, a faint light flickered.
—-
From the edge of the infinite void, where darkness devours all light, four blazing red streaks tore across the night sky like missiles fired by the gods themselves. They shot through Earth's emerald atmosphere, burning fiercely in the sky like furious stars, carrying with them mysterious patterns—symbols not of this world, marks of an ancient civilization older than humanity itself.
Below, humankind remained completely unaware. They continued their daily routines—a small family gathered around a warm dinner table, a group of young friends laughing on the sidewalk, couples strolling hand in hand under the streetlights. None of them noticed that the sky above was slowly changing. No one knew that in just a few minutes, this peaceful moment would be torn apart forever.
They did not know that...
They were coming.
Beings from a distant world.
Visitors who would forever change the fate of Earth.
Travelers from beyond space—descending upon the blue planet.
They slashed across the sky, leaving behind endless streaks of fire. In that moment, humanity looked up, frozen in awe before the majestic yet ominous spectacle. People stopped in their tracks, gazing at the sky with expressions of horror. Shouts rang out, car horns blared desperately as drivers tried to slam on their brakes. On rooftops, balconies, and squares... hundreds of eyes were fixed on the blazing spheres plummeting down, as though witnessing the wrath of gods descending upon Earth.
A boy stood by his bedroom window, the dim glow of his nightlight reflecting in his wide, astonished eyes. A man who had just exited a bar tilted his head back and dropped his cigarette from his lips. A group of soldiers at the Soccent military base fell silent before the radar screen, watching four unknown objects fall at an impossible speed.
They did not know that...
Earth's history would change forever.
---
The four meteors struck in four different locations, each marking a unique arrival, as though the hand of fate had preordained it.
The first impact tore through the wind, crashing down onto an open field at the city's edge. The tremor was so strong that the ground shook, dust flying up like a small sandstorm. As the smoke cleared, a towering figure rose, eyes gleaming with a pale blue light like a solitary star. He stretched, like an ancient warrior awakening from a long sleep, and gazed up at the sky with deep, calculating eyes—the gaze of a leader, one who would carry the fate of all.
The second impact landed near a residential area. The collision wasn't too violent, but enough to shake the small street. Roof tiles of several houses shattered, and windows rattled violently. A woman screamed, clutching her child tightly as she saw the red-hot meteor vaporizing. Then, amidst the panic of the crowd, a deep voice emanated from within the meteor. The voice was not threatening, but calm and soothing, as if it belonged to a healer, a guardian.
The third impact slammed directly into an empty soccer field. The grass was scorched, chunks of earth were hurled up, creating a massive crater. Amidst the smoke and dust, a soft laugh echoed—not exactly arrogant, but filled with mischief. A pair of glowing green eyes flickered in the night, and a lithe, quick figure emerged from the ash.
[Not bad. But landing doesn't seem to be my strong suit.]
The final impact landed in a quiet villa area, crashing directly into a private home's swimming pool. Water splashed everywhere, waves surged onto the shore, and amidst the homeowner's astonishment, a towering figure slowly rose from the steaming water. The man inside stared wide-eyed out the window, dropping his beer can. The dog next to him started barking loudly, and the children screamed in terror. A deep, gravelly voice rose, tinged with annoyance:
[Next time, I'll choose my landing spot.]
---
In the invisible space of radio frequencies, a signal was transmitted—not in common speech, but through an ancient form of communication, one only understood by those of their kind.
[We have arrived.]
A deep voice rang out first, carrying the weight of one who had seen countless battles, a voice of a guide.
[Everything alright?] Another voice chimed in, calm but full of concern, like someone who always put the lives of their comrades first.
[It's fine, just a bit of water in the processing system.] The raspy voice responded, a little irritable.
[Haha! If there was a prize for the best landing, I'd definitely win.] A lively voice rang out, playful and teasing.
The four strangers, the wandering warriors, had now set foot on this land.
The night remained silent, but Earth was no longer the same.
They had arrived.
And the story had only just begun.
---
After landing, amid the fading sparks and the dust that covered the night sky, the four travelers slowly began to move. Each of them knew—this was not the time to reveal themselves.
Mystic blue light swept through the space, mechanical eyes observing the world before them with perfect calculation. A massive figure, clad in heavy, silver armor, stopped before a black pickup truck. He paused in contemplation, then silently shifted. The metal structure on his body shifted and realigned, mimicking the form of a sturdy transport vehicle.
Not far from there, another figure, lighter but with a commanding presence, took notice of a dark blue and red shape. A powerful yet classic-designed truck, a symbol of stability and leadership. The data scanning completed, and he silently transformed, the outer layer folding neatly to form a perfect shape—a figure who had witnessed many battles in the vast universe.
By the moonlit waters, another, more agile form chose a different approach—emphasizing speed and flexibility. A sleek, shiny sports car, its silver gleam shimmering in the dark. Flashy on the outside, yet with the readiness to face any challenge within.
Finally, a figure bearing the calmness of a healer stood before a specialized vehicle, one that not only helped him conceal himself but also reflected his very nature—a guardian, a protector of life.
The transformation process was complete. They were no longer alien beings in a strange world. Now, they had their outer shells—a form suited to this place.
The four beings moved, engines humming softly in the night. None of them knew what awaited them ahead—only that, from this moment on, their journey on Earth had truly begun.
The night sky, silent and vast, reflected upon the earth like an endless mirror.
Bumblebee quietly drove Sam and Mikaela to a secluded clearing hidden behind some trees. It was a quiet place, far from the city lights, where only the darkness and the stars above would witness what was about to unfold.
The wheels slowed down and eventually came to a stop. Bumblebee's engine fell silent, replaced by an eerie quiet. Sam and Mikaela exchanged glances and slowly stepped out of the car. A gentle breeze blew through the forest, carrying the chill of the night, but what made them shiver wasn't the air… it was the feeling that they were standing before a moment that would change their lives forever.
Before they could say a word, a series of mechanical sounds suddenly echoed.
Bumblebee moved first.
The Camaro car's shell detached, each part sliding and rotating in perfect order like a complex clockwork mechanism. The wheels retracted, the engine shifted, the armor panels separated, flipped, and fused together. In the blink of an eye, a towering figure stood there—its bright blue eyes glowing in the dark, reflecting a strange light like distant stars.
But that was just the beginning.
From the darkness, the other vehicles began to transform as well.
The red-and-blue truck shuddered, then forcefully opened, thick armor plates sliding down, curling like an ancient suit of armor awakening. A massive form gradually took shape—tall, majestic, with the air of a warrior who had fought countless battles. His eyes were deep, as if holding the night sky, and each movement he made carried the weight of history.
Not far away, a heavy-duty truck roared to life one last time before the outer shell expanded, the steel frame interlocking and folding into arms as powerful as if they could crush a mountain. As his form completed, the sound of metal clashing echoed like thunder in a clear sky.
Beside the forest edge, a sleek sports car flung its armor panels open and slid with agility like a dancer in the night. Each part merged together, sharp and decisive, forming a quick and nimble warrior, his bright eyes gleaming like reflections of the star-filled sky.
And finally, the white ambulance trembled, emitting deep mechanical sounds. The inner parts moved with absolute precision, assembling into a tall figure, yet calm in demeanor. His sturdy posture radiated patience and wisdom—a watcher, a healer, always ready to protect his companions.
Sam and Mikaela stood stunned.
These colossal beings, with armor crafted as if from an ancient civilization, now stood before them. Under the moonlight, the lines on their bodies glowed faintly, and ancient symbols flickered like the breath of the universe.
One of them spoke.
His voice was steady, echoing like the resonance of a lost civilization, carrying the weight of time and history.
—Hello, humans.
Sam swallowed hard. His heart was beating so fast it felt as if it would leap out of his chest.
Mikaela instinctively took a step back, but her gaze never left the beings before her. They were unlike anything she had ever seen.
Not monsters.
Not gods.
But something in between—warriors from another world, bearing mysteries the human race had never known.
They had come.
And the world would never be the same.
He took a step forward, his deep blue eyes gazing down at Sam and Mikaela.
There was no threat, but an invisible gravity emanated from him—a presence that even the strongest could not ignore. He slightly bent forward, moving slowly but with authority, as though every word he was about to speak carried great significance.
—What is your name?
His voice was deep, resonating like metal striking metal, filled with unwavering determination and an unshakable belief.
Sam hesitated for a moment. He felt as though he were standing before a king, or a legendary warrior from ancient tales. Swallowing hard, he took a deep breath and replied:
—Sam… Sam Witwicky.
He nodded, as if committing the name to an invisible list in his mind.
He stepped back, scanning his teammates, and then turned back to Sam and Mikaela.
—We are Cybertronians. A people from a lost world called Cybertron.
He pointed to the towering warrior with broad shoulders like a steel wall.
—This is our most steadfast protector. A weapons expert, a warrior who never backs down from an enemy, always ready to stand on the front lines to protect those who cannot protect themselves. They call him Ironhide.
Ironhide slightly bent down, his cold, sharp gaze like a steel blade, his voice gravelly and deep like the sound of a combat engine.
—As long as you're not the enemy, I won't shoot.
He then turned to another warrior, smaller but swift, his mischievous eyes reflecting intelligence and energy.
—And here… a being who has never backed down from any challenge. As fast as lightning, sharp as a knife, always ready to rush into battle. Jazz.
The warrior named Jazz tilted his head, giving a sly grin.
—Yo, looks like we've just made friends with a fascinating human, Prime.
Sam couldn't help but laugh in surprise—Jazz was nothing like the cold war machine he had imagined. There was something very… lively about him.
He continued.
—And here… the healer, the wise one, a warrior who understands not only the battlefield but also the fragile essence of life. Ratchet.
Ratchet nodded, his sharp eyes assessing Sam from head to toe.
—Very strong, you can still stand tall when you see us.
Finally, he turned to another warrior, the one who had accompanied and protected Sam, smaller in stature but exuding strength. His bright green eyes, battle scars on his body, but what stood out most was his friendliness—a rare quality among battle-hardened warriors.
—And finally… a warrior who has been with you from the start. The guardian, the protector, and the most loyal friend anyone could have. Bumblebee.
Bumblebee stepped forward, raising his hand in a cheerful salute. But right after that, as if to affirm the words spoken, he gently placed his hand on Sam's shoulder, a protective gesture full of determination.
Sam laughed, feeling a strange warmth fill him.
Bumblebee didn't speak, but suddenly his speakers played a line from an old song:
"You got a friend in me."
Finally, he placed his hand on his chest. A moment of silence, as if carefully considering every word before speaking.
—And I… I am Optimus Prime. I lead this group of Autobots. And we are here… to seek the last hope for our kind.
His voice lowered, carrying a deep sorrow, a pain that, though unspoken, Sam could feel.
The silence lingered for a few seconds.
Mikaela glanced at Sam, her eyes filled with unspoken questions.
Sam looked up at Optimus, feeling his heart pound in his chest.
He didn't know what awaited them ahead, but one thing was certain:
His world had changed. And he would never be the same again.
Optimus Prime remained silent for a moment, as if weighing whether to continue or not. Finally, he raised his head, his voice carrying the weight of history and destiny.
—We are here not only to seek refuge... but to find a sacred artifact lost for tens of millions of years.
Optimus paused for a moment, his gaze reflecting ancient memories, scars that were not only etched on his body but also within his mind.
—We are not here just to search for one thing. We are here... because our home has been lost.
He took a step back, as if wanting the whole group to share this story.
—Cybertron was once a glorious world. A planet where living machines like us were created, where peace and knowledge flourished for thousands of cycles. But then, war broke out.
Sam looked around, seeing Jazz and Ratchet bow their heads slightly, while Ironhide clenched his fists.
—Megatron, who was once one of the greatest warriors of Cybertron, changed. He no longer believed in peace, but in absolute power. He believed that only the strongest were worthy to rule, that our evolution must go through violence and domination. And so, he gathered those who followed him—the Decepticons.
Optimus clenched his fist, his voice lowering.
—I once called him brother.
A heavy silence filled the air. Mikaela shuddered slightly. She had never imagined such a deep story—these giant machines were not just mindless warriors, but had a history behind them.
Optimus continued.
—The war lasted for millennia. Cybertron slowly died. The air became toxic, cities collapsed, and the light of our civilization gradually faded away.
Sam swallowed hard. He could feel the sorrow in Optimus' voice.
—But there was still one last hope—AllSpark.
Optimus turned to look at Sam.
—AllSpark is the source of life for Cybertron, the thing that created us, the soul of the planet. If we could reclaim it, we could revive Cybertron, end the war. But Megatron understands this as well. He wants to take the AllSpark to create an invincible Decepticon empire. And thus, a race began.
Bumblebee suddenly crouched down, lightly touching the ground as if sensing something.
—We failed, Prime...—Ratchet murmured.
—Megatron has disappeared—Jazz added, his eyes serious. —Along with the AllSpark.
Sam furrowed his brow.
—You mean... completely disappeared?
—No one knows what happened to him—Ironhide said, his voice heavy. —He vanished from Cybertron with the AllSpark through the stars. But then... no one saw him again. No signals, no traces. He, just like the AllSpark, evaporated from the universe.
Sam sighed, feeling a heavy sensation in his chest.
—And now... do you think the AllSpark could be on Earth?
Optimus nodded.
—Through our reconnaissance team's communication channels and some captured Decepticons, we've learned that a significant number of them have been arriving and are already on this planet, so I fear that both Megatron and the AllSpark are here.
Bumblebee suddenly emitted a warning beep, as if reminding them that time was running out. Optimus looked at Sam, his gaze no longer just serious—but pleading.
—We need to find the AllSpark before Megatron... or anyone else finds it. If he returns... Earth won't be able to withstand it. Even though we are not the only Autobot group to have set foot here.
The whole Autobot team fell silent for a moment, as if ancient memories were rising in their minds.
Then Sam became confused and broke the silence by asking:
—Wait... If you're aliens from a distant planet, how can you speak English?
Optimus looked at Sam calmly, then explained:
—Before we arrived here, some of our reconnaissance teams had come to Earth around half a year ago. Their mission was to study the human culture and scientific development.
—We used an advanced translation system that can learn languages from the data gathered.
Ratchet continued:
—Your internet is a huge repository of information. Our reconnaissance teams accessed it to analyze millions of conversations, texts, and media, from which they created a language platform to communicate with humans.
Sam raised an eyebrow:
—You mean... you learned English by going online?
Jazz chuckled:
—Exactly. And because of that, I learned something... Humans seem to really like cats playing the piano.
Sam stood there stunned for a moment.
—Damn... You guys know about that stuff too?
—Yep. —Ironhide murmured quietly. —And we also know you have way too many weapons... but don't use them properly for self-defense.
Optimus slightly tilted his head, his gaze growing even more serious:
—That's why we need to understand humans better. Because war is not just about strength, but about understanding.
Suddenly Optimus paused, remembering something very important:
—But there is one thing... even we didn't expect.
Sam blinked, a strange feeling began to creep into his chest. Optimus spoke slowly:
—Our planet holds other ancient artifacts besides the AllSpark, and only those who are worthy can summon them through a specific incantation. But it belongs to a language system so ancient that no living Cybertronian can translate it, except for one artifact.
From Optimus' arm, a book with a metallic platinum cover, intricately engraved with detailed patterns, flew out, hovering in mid-air as if suspended in zero gravity. The pages were not made of ordinary paper, but a thin metallic material, containing ancient Cybertronian symbols and cosmic secrets yet to be uncovered.
—This is the only artifact that anyone can hold, but no one understands it. It's called the "Covenant of Primus."
—That's right, the knowledge in it is written in a forgotten language, so it's practically useless to us. —Ratchet responded.
—However, there are some prophecies translated from this book. Among them is a prophecy written long ago... A prophecy about one who was not born from Cybertron, but has the ability to understand our language. This person... will be the one to lead, the one who will liberate the Cybertronian people from their chains of suffering, bringing hope and rebirth to us.
The space seemed to freeze.
Those words echoed in Sam's mind, making him feel like he had just been pulled into something much bigger than himself.
—Wait...— He let out a nervous laugh. —You mean—
—It's no coincidence that you're here, Sam Witwicky. —Optimus' voice rang out, deep and certain. —Fate has brought you here.
Mikaela placed her hand on Sam's shoulder, her gaze just as confused.
Sam swallowed hard.
He never imagined that the sci-fi stories he once read could become reality. But right now, with the giant warriors standing before him, with Optimus Prime's eyes looking straight into his as if he had already seen the future...
Maybe, he truly was no longer an ordinary human.
Optimus Prime nodded slightly, his gaze filled with both solemnity and curiosity.
—I've heard from Bumblebee... about your grandfather's notebook.
Sam froze.
—Notebook? You mean my great grandfather's notebook?
—Yes. A notebook containing ancient Cybertronian characters. Not only that...— Optimus' voice lowered, carrying an undeniable weight. —You can read and understand it.
Mikaela looked at Sam, her eyes full of questions.
—Sam... do you know their writing?
Sam opened his mouth to protest but stopped. He remembered the times when he would unconsciously draw strange symbols, those moments when looking at the notebook felt like it was explaining itself in his head. He had never thought it was strange...
But now, things were different.
—I... I don't know. —He stammered, a vague fear creeping into his mind. —It's just... when I look at them, I understand what they're saying. As if they're a part of me.
Optimus remained silent, watching him. There was no doubt in his eyes, only deep concern.
—If that's true...— He spoke slowly, his voice filled with both respect and caution. —Then you are no longer just a human, Sam Witwicky. You are a piece of destiny.
The air grew heavy.
Sam swallowed.
He had thought everything was over when the alien robots appeared. But perhaps… this was just the beginning.
The heavy atmosphere enveloped the Autobots. They had heard the prophecy—about an individual not born from Cybertron, yet capable of understanding their language, the one who would bring freedom to their people.
And now, before them, was the human mentioned in the legend.
A clumsy, panicked teenager, awkward in his movements, with no trace of a savior's demeanor.
Ironhide muttered softly, his voice as deep as the roar of a cannon.
— This is the chosen one? He looks like a lost soul.
Jazz crossed his arms, his gaze uncertain.
— I thought it would be something… more special.
Ratchet tilted his head, assessing Sam, his sensors scanning over him repeatedly.
— Biological structure is completely normal. No signs indicating that he carries any unusual bloodline.
Optimus Prime remained silent. Though he didn't show any clear reaction, it was impossible to deny—there was a hint of disappointment in his heart.
Still, he couldn't dismiss this possibility.
— There's only one way to confirm. – Optimus spoke in a deep voice.
He lowered his gaze and looked straight into Sam's eyes, his blue eyes shining like beacons in the dark night.
— I will present you with a riddle in the Cybertronian language. If you truly understand it, answer me.
Sam froze. His heart raced. He didn't know whether this was a real challenge or just a way for them to prove that he was just an ordinary kid caught up in this mess.
Optimus slowly spoke, each word echoing like an ancient incantation:
— Megh'ra vosh, tal'raan ix kaon, tri'vius aeon vash.
The room fell utterly still.
Mikaela furrowed her brow. She couldn't understand even a single syllable.
Bumblebee anxiously glanced at Sam.
The Autobots' eyes were all on him.
Sam swallowed hard. A vague voice rang in his mind, like an echo from forgotten eras. He didn't know why, but those words… he understood them.
His voice came out dry as he spoke:
— The exiled, the darkness will always come, but only the light can imprison him.
The silence in the room became eerie.
A cold wind swept through.
Ironhide blinked. Ratchet stopped scanning data. Jazz stared at the teenager in front of him, as if seeing something beyond his comprehension.
And Optimus… he no longer doubted.
Sam Witwicky was no ordinary human.
The atmosphere was filled with sheer astonishment.
The Autobots stood still for a few seconds, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
Ratchet immediately activated the scanning system, this time more carefully and thoroughly—not just checking the biological structure but also examining every microscopic frequency in Sam's body.
A series of data appeared in his memory. Lines of light scanned across Sam's body again, causing him to flinch, but Ratchet said nothing, focusing only on the information he had just received.
Then he froze.
— This is impossible…
Jazz glanced at him.
— Hey, what's going on?
Ironhide squinted, his voice more serious than usual.
— Ratchet?
Ratchet didn't respond immediately. His eyes reflected thousands of lines of data, a genetic map slowly unfolding before him.
After a few seconds of heavy silence, he turned to Optimus, his voice deep but laced with disbelief.
— He... is not entirely human.
Sam's eyes widened.
— What?!
Ratchet didn't pay attention to his reaction, continuing his analysis.
— There's evidence of genetic modification, not from natural evolution. His genetic structure has been altered long before his birth… possibly before he was even born.
Mikaela was alarmed.
— What do you mean? Who could have done such a thing?!
Ratchet frowned.
— Not humans. And not a random process. This is a type of coding we've only seen on Cybertron.
Optimus was silent, his gaze fixed on Sam, as though searching for the answer in his very existence.
Then, Ratchet discovered something even more astounding.
— Not only that… – His voice grew heavier, almost unbelievable. — In his genetic code, there's a sequence of symbols… coordinates.
Jazz furrowed his brow.
— Coordinates for what?
Ratchet took a deep breath—a habit he had kept even as a Cybertronian, from his centuries as a doctor.
— It's the location of the AllSpark… But there's an anomaly. Not just one, but five coordinates.
Optimus stood still for a moment. His blue eyes brightened, reflecting the image of the Earth map that Ratchet had just projected from the data system. Five bright points on the map, each in a different location on the planet.
— Five coordinates? – He repeated, his voice thoughtful, not out of doubt but because he was trying to find an explanation.
Ironhide crossed his arms, his voice low.
— Prime, is it possible that the AllSpark is no longer intact?
— I'm not sure if this is truly possible, – Optimus replied, his gaze still fixed on the coordinates.
A thought crossed Optimus' mind, a possibility he had never considered before.
— How many Autobots have come to this planet before? – Jazz asked.
— 13. Including us. – Optimus answered. — Some others are still on their way.
All eyes turned to Sam.
The space seemed to be swallowed by silence.
Optimus lowered his head, deep in thought. Jazz and Ironhide exchanged glances, both understanding that everything had just changed.
No longer just an ordinary human.
Sam Witwicky was the key to what they had been searching for all these millions of years.
Optimus slowly stepped forward to Sam, his gaze contemplative but no longer filled with doubt. Around them, the Autobots remained silent, but everyone could sense it—everything had changed.
No longer just an ordinary teenager. No longer just a person caught in this battle.
Sam Witwicky—his name now carried a completely different meaning.
Optimus lowered his head, his voice ringing with weight:
— Sam, you hold the fate… not just of humanity, but of our entire race.
The wind died down for a moment.
Sam swallowed, feeling the weight of those words pressing down on him. It was truly an unbelievable situation.
For fate had called his name.
---
Meanwhile, at the Witwicky home...
In the soft yellow light of the living room, Judy Witwicky paced back and forth, tightly gripping her phone as if focusing long enough would make Sam call home. Every time the screen lit up, she hurriedly looked down—but it was just a notification from a discount store or spam messages. Nothing from her son.
— He should be back by now! It's already dark! Who stays out this long without calling?
On the sofa, Ron Witwicky held a newspaper, but clearly didn't read a word. He raised an eyebrow at his wife, then chuckled softly, teasingly.
— Judy, maybe he's out with a girl. You wouldn't want to interrupt a historic moment, right?
Judy stopped, glaring at her husband.
— Ron, I'm not joking!
Ron shrugged, putting the newspaper down.
— What, you want him to stay home forever? Men need to explore the world out there. After all… he's the descendant of Archibald Witwicky.
Judy crossed her arms, her gaze still stern. But then she sighed, reluctantly sitting down beside her husband.
— Well… I just worry.
Ron smiled, wrapping his arm around her in reassurance.
— Don't worry. He's our son, he's not the type to get into trouble like that.
But despite his words, there was an unusual atmosphere in the house—a vague sense of unease, as if something invisible was moving in the darkness, shifting the course of the entire world...
---
End of Chapter 7