Wack   Starscream with his own cannon for doing something so stupid.

    "Ack ack!" Starscream shouts, holding up his foot. "MY FOOT HURTS!"

    Why don't you fly seeker? His wings are perfectly intact.Bayverse logic sucks. Wait. that constrictor thing must be blocking his engine-wings from flying into the air, he could-- The Quintesson soldier turns away so fast I can almost compare it to the spinning playground thing. "Duurrrr ummmmm, you do know that assimilating me won't  increase the number of  troops." and I mouthed: "Help me." right at the Con's direction.

      Truth to be told, a fangirl can be scared of the Quintessons.

      I'm scared.

      Quintessons possibly might have  a way similar to The Cybermen making somebody one of them.     "It will increaze the detazhment and rezentment towardz thoze 'Conz." The Quintesson all so silently mutters, moving away from the pit that has the Decepticons  waitting to be...eaten or melted, but no, that won't happen. Correctly calculating how messed up the future will be it can be a good guess that if Micheal Bay was planning for Transformers 4 Then that wouldn't happen.  It's almost like I'm in the movie being written and given rough drafts until they come to a rather -like-a-able-ending-where-Optimus-is-so-out-of-character. The quintession leaves the shallow pits that has at least two other gaurds.

    Dot.dot. dot.

  "You know, it's not impressive FAKING A GENINUNE GERMAN ACCENT!" I scream at the quintesson. "A moment ago you were not speaking a with a German accent--...No...do you sound Russian?" I earn this confusing glare from the quintession. "I ddon't know your accent anymore!" I shook my head. "In a way, you remind me of a ...Octopus Blitzwing."

  I eyed this octopus Blitzwing, best to put it.

"Don'z care."

    How and why this happens to me, is way beyond thought.

    There's several hallways going down and down,the walls have these strange cybertronian structures made probably  by wires and screws among things. Hearing whirrs and clicks from his armor made the mysterious hallway even more....Transformerish. Something in my gut told me something bad could happen in here.

 "Now,pleaze don'z zquirm."

   I'm totally confused. Does he have a Russian accent or a German accent? Then he shoves me into this chair-like device that clamps onto my wrists very, feeling rough and unpleasant. A clear and vivid reminder of what that stretcher guy from Fantastic Four had been froze on thanks to this ice-clear material thing. The gigantic Quintesson's arms wiggled  as did his octopus-like  feet sending ripples up and down his armor that for some reason...reminded me of gigantic octopuses, always wondered what they could transform into.

   "Beary interesting."

    "Are you inzulting my inzeligence human?"

     I snicker.

  "No." I squeak. "Unless you know The Lion King, Star Wars,and Lord of the rings....if you do not then I am insulting your intelligence. Seen galaxy Quest?"  

    The wrappy tangles pressed a button.

    Something sharp pierces through my skin.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" I scream. "Stop it!"

 The octopus Blitzwing snickers.

     I somehow could see it is injecting what seems to be...little round spherical balls into my right arm. They look so small and turtle-like in shape just how The Omnitrix crash landed on Earth in Ben 10 The Original series. EXCEPT, this really hurt. it hurt. painfully going through against my bones almost skidding past. I broke my left foot when I had been four or five, I fell from the tall monkey bars. I lost my left shoe after falling. I wanted BOTH shoes on, go figure, it made my life more uneven-ed  unbalanced and so..not right. Better to put it; I felt like Adrian Monk. Only in greater pain.

  Enough about me.

 "..Pop...corn."  I gasp, my finger tips somehow still clung around the edge of the bag. "Wanna..have some popcorn?"

  An unusual question, but, it's almost a 'must do' in the presences of others.

 "No way." He shook his helmet.He pauses..."Juzz one."   If he had a digit then he would have at least raised one.

 His curling tentacle grabs a piece of popcorn.

 "Who'z Blitzwing?" He asks, while my  mind is starting to become completely blank.

   Great...asking a girl in pain....That's a real epic fail.

 "Too...much...to explain." I start to lose consciousness....

 *                                             *                                                           

Next thing that happened....I awoke on something hard and rough. Two pairs of red optics sent shivers up my back. This redness glow reflecting on hallow area's and three protruding-rack-like parts sticking out from the helmet made it obvious this is the Fallen.  A low, deep growl replaced the eerie silence.

 "Thanks to you, I have an army of Decepticons, just waiting to take the sun harvestor." A old, cackily voice finally emerged from the low-deep growl. "I know what you are."

Was he expecting a reply from me or--wait. He's likely to try getting rid of me so I won't be able to stop him.

"....A Transfan who's incredibly devoted?" I ask, confused. "Or were you expecting something different?"

  I notice he couldn't move.

   "Don't kid yourself, traveler." His long, sharp razor-like digits tapped on the edge of his chair.  "You will tell me where the Witwicky kid is."

    Traveler? 

  "Um dude, he's not a kid, he's a man." I scowl at his vocabulary. "Update your vocabulary banks mister-I'm-megatronus-leader-of-all-'Cons and trapped on a chair in Cybertron."  I pause. "No I should have said 'Fallen' instead of Megatronus. Maaaaan, there's a lot of Megatron's in Transforme--"

  The Fallen's move-able claws wrapped around my arm.

Wait.

I'm under his freaking gigantic hand (aka his servo)!

  There are several pairs of red small glowing optics from behind him.

 "My apprentice will offline Optimus Prime, this year, no more waiting."

  Kid myself? Really? I don't see why he's so impatient; humans need long time-gaps between Transformers battles before getting thrown into something like this situation.  As annoying as Sam Vicky is--Wow...I've just started calling him Vicky. Wow. I am turning into a Simmon's-paranoid-transformers-character. ..As annoying as he is, Sam's an important character to retrieving the matrix of Leadership.

  This could be just a dream.

"As much as I'm scared...and terrified," I start. "You are keeping me alive. Because I'm a 'traveler'."

   He cackles.

 "Not just a Traveler, human, you know what it means."

"A time-traveling time lord with a big blue box capable of regenerating up to 12 times in all 13 to be exact--If I am a traveler, where's my telephone box?" I sarcastically ask him. "Or my pocket watch, or a ticket....If I were a traveler, where do I have it?"

The Fallen displays confusion.

Guess he didn't meant Timelord at all.

 "You actually do not understand." He growls. "Psychic-dreamer."

   Oooh IDEA's rolling up in my head!

....Frag!

"Oh frag, you just did something terrible!"

"Do what?"  The fallen repeats.

 "You just gave me a slagging idea for a character who's a Psychic and is from the future and stuff who may become an ambassador or something!" I shriek at him. "Don't say I WARNED you in the future when you see something posted by Speedygal on a website suggesting a long book series of books that spun from this single fragging idea. I'm a OC killer you-...hmm...Paralzied dude!"

He laughs, taking it lightly.

Didn't he understand he may have troubled a universe that could be subject to my torterous writing?

 "Let me clarify this; You are a Cross-deminsenonal mind capable of going into other bodies--"

"Dude, I know, I write a lot. I wrote about the frigging universe connected...to time lines; universe, galaxies, parallels like a spider-web and life!" I snap at him. "Writing and thinking a lot gets you connected to the portal that lends you a peak into the future being vague or either clear.  That happens when I'm sleeping.... But....My mind does not move from my body, I'll believe it when it's been used in Doctor Who in at least one episode. Otherwise, you are a crazy-old-lunatic, Fallen."

  He didn't like what I am saying.

  "That shell...you see over there."

My eyes drift over to a shell in progress.

"You know what happens in the last movie. Don't lie.,"

How can I lie? I have not seen the ending at all!

Guess I have to lie...in the face of a dangerous-prisoned Decepticon.

 "...I understand." I lie. "And is--"    

   *                                                           *                                                                            *

      Great...I had a vision...so..what...I don't understand Bayverse logic anymore .I'm still in the chair: Physically. Maybe that vision...was from the future?  Possibly… There are loud explosive sounds. My arms feel...metal.   My eyes drift down to my right arm that looks practically just  it's same tone and color extremely white. Twilight sucks, Vampires do not sparkle. I sparkle in the sun after coming out a building and there's some window or rear view mirror that makes it seem I am a magically-sarcastic blur.

    The body of a Quintesson hits the wall.

    Yay! Decepticons DID do something productive.....while in constraints. 

    "Megatron, Give me back my heel!" Starscream's voice pretty much rang through the hall. "It's not built to be a blaster!"

  This makes me laugh.

  Apparently Starscream's heel is used by Megatron as a blaster.

   "You have seeker wings, Starscream, use them." I heard Megatron' distictive voice from afar.

     Silence.

      My eyes are so heavy that I could barely see the dark figures coming form the corner of the hallway.

     "Didn't think about that." Starscream's voice easily makes it a 'caught ya' situation I saw him flying two feet or so above the floor.

     Oh starscream,you idioit--

   "Starscream, you are an idioit!" Megatron said,just what I was thinking.....This is so....odd. "We better get off this planet before it explodes--"

    The entire hallway shook.

        "--On us!"  Megatron notices the small unconscious-like human in a chair that has somehow making her appearance almost metal-like. A pool of blood is right under the chair's right arm. The Quintession guard is likely to be in the room standing in preparation one of the Cons comes in. Then again messing with the planet's systems did do a possible near-destruction sequence.

        Starscream wants his heel back, when Megatron is still holding it.

     "Exit, exit, exit, where's the exit!" Starscream panics.

   Strange...I'm watching from a different perspective...cool!

   Megatron goes towards the room. If she becomes one of them then she'll tell everything that will happen! I cannot afford the plans to be misguided and interrupted.The Quintesson soldier comes out the dark shooting at Megatron. The Decepticon takes out his blade reflecting each –energy-bullet strike then sliced off the robotic-tentacle using his really sharp weapon letting gooey fluid fly out of the sliced area, the squirming Quintession crawls back to the wall only to be sliced in half by the giant Decepticon.

  “The Fallen’s revenge will not be thwarted.” Megatron stated, putting back his blade.     

I can’t pinpoint if he’s actually lying by the sound of his voice or telling the truth. 

  Megatron rips the small, short human from the chair.

    “Starscream, give me some blood preventers.”

   “You mean Band-aids.” Starscream corrects him. “I left them on Cybertron. Didn’t see any use.”

    Megatron glares at him. He rips out a cable from Starscream’s arm—“OWCH!” Then, he wrapped it around the small human’s arm to prevent her from bleeding furiously. The bleeding stops temporally.

     “That is so uncalled for!” Starscream covers his left shoulder that sizzles sending electrical sparks that zapped his long-claw like digits.

    Megatron held the heel-blaster.

   “And isn’t abandoning the fleet uncalled for?”

    The Fleet? Is this a reference to the War on Cybertron? That could be possible; knowing The Ark or whatever it’s really called is on the moon holding several other bots/cons. Hard to trust things that are vaguely described.

    Starscream frowns.

    “I’ll give this back…later.”

    Megatron transforms into his cybertronian jet-mode being sleek and efficiently-fast-looking as some areas glowed a light red color. Starscream transforms into his flight mode. The Small girl is in Megatron’s cockpit (The seating area) unconscious no doubt. The larger flight vehicle shot a hole through the ceiling.  Kabaaalm. The two flight vehicles fly out from the hole as the other Quintessons rapidly shoot at them using their blasters.

~                                                  ~                                                                  ~

    Next thing that happened....I awoke on something hard and rough. Just like how my vision turned out… Two pairs of red optics sent shivers up my back. This redness glow reflecting on hallow area's and three protruding-rack-like parts sticking out from the helmet made it obvious this is the Fallen.  A low, deep growl replaced the eerie silence just like it had last time. It’s weird. This could be really happening or be a dream, again.

  “Urgh…my arm.” I touch my right arm feeling the wire that Megatron ripped out from Starscream. This wire did not feel any heavy than a book bag holding a bunch of books, homework, and likely other material. I have a book bag that does not often get too full, messenger bags aren’t that useful to put in the locker. “Wow…It did the trick.” Not a sign of blood remains.

    Where are Megatron and Starscream?

    "Thanks to you, I have an army of Decepticons, just waiting to take the sun harvestor." An old, ancient voice finally emerged from the low-deep growl. "I know what you are."

    And the first thing from my mouth just can’t help itself.

"....A Transfan who's incredibly devoted?" I ask, confused. "Or were you expecting something different?"

  I notice he couldn't move.

   "Don't kid yourself, traveler." His long, sharp razor-like digits tapped on the edge of his chair.  "You will tell me where the Witwicky kid is."

    Traveler? 

  "Um dude, he's not a kid, he's a man." I scowl at his vocabulary, disappointed that this event is happening again. Come on. Repetition is so…uncool! "Update your vocabulary banks mister-I'm-megatronus-leader-of-all-'Cons and trapped on a chair in Cybertron."

  I pause.

“I will not tell you.” I said, firmly.  The Fallen's move-able claws wrapped around my arm.

   Wait.

   I'm under his freaking gigantic hand (aka his servo)!

  AGAIN.

    There are several pairs of red small glowing optics from behind him.

   "As much as I'm scared...and terrified," I start. "You are keeping me alive. Because I'm a ‘Traveler’ and something else you know. Something that got me into this universe into the first place, I mean it is scary and terrifying in the presence of a freaky Decepticon…But you must have the answers to WHY I am here.”

   This time he did not cackle, The Fallen must have seen my own confusion and frustration,

 "Let me clarify this; you are a Cross-deminsenonal mind capable of going into other bodies--"

   “Dude, don’t give me that slag you’ve practiced countless times,” The large cable around my right arm did not bug me. “Give me the answer to why I am here. How can a movie bring me in? It’s not like I am supposed to stay forever and ever, come on, I’m not an alien, I started out liking this franchise as a little girl. Twelve or eleven years old.  I want to know why…Why me of all people?”

    I did my best begging eyes. He is acting surprised over my reaction.

    “Me…Ivy, the Speedster, am asking you to give me any clues or hints.”  I help myself upright.  “Every Cybertronian has the right to know…so do I.”

     A deep sigh comes from the gigantic robot.

    “The end will come,” The Fallen  starts, clearing his throat.  The best way to describe this scenario is some gigantic robot is telling a tale in a dark somewhat-lighted room to somebot or somecon, but this time there’s a human listening. “But not for you. The end to the mess you were brought in, you will return to your body when you least expect it…when you have grown attached to this universe….you will return to your body…as those who venture from their body in reality where we do not exist. Those who can travel from their body to another universe… is a rarity.”

    It somewhat makes sense.

  “So this means you sent Megatron and Starscream and the wreckers and Alice to Planet Earth for Sam Witwicky in 2008…Great dude, you just ruined your entire plan.” I  push myself out from under his-claw-like servo.  It’s a pain to be a Transfan who got a pretty clear memory on some events of all three movies.  

     He didn't like what I am saying.             

   “They will be going shortly.” The Fallen starts.

“To their doom.” I interrupt him, spilling any beans of what a broken time-line could do.

  He didn’t really care a word I said.

   "That shell...you see over there."

My eyes drift over to a shell in progress.

    "You know what happens in the last movie.”  He reminded me. “Do you want to end up dead because of your refusal?”

    How can I lie? I have not seen the ending at all! Guess I have to lie...in the face of a dangerous-prisoned Decepticon.  If those Decepticons are ready to get back on Earth then everyone and I mean everyone is in a corrupted-danger-zone. If things happen out of order…It’s complete mayhem better yet; A broken timeline.  My hands clench into fists. If Megatron and Startscream, including a bunch of others were meant to live...Some tough things would need to be done; by me.

   “Let me tell you a story.” I softly begin. “A fangirl goes back in time and prevents the death of beloved transformer figure, she returns to her future, only to discover the series  has become…dead technically. Things are not right. Episodes are dark, and mellow. She regrets making it and has somebody stop her from doing the mistake.”

   The fallen growls.

   I gulped.

“And then things were back to what they were, the way it’s supposed to go.” I finish, feeling tears going down. “Preventing that bot or con from dying made others die and made the heroes or villains not reach their goalll-s-s. F-f-f-fallen, you won’t reach your goal  if you do this early.” I squeezed my right hand.  “Cybertron may not even be restored after this—“

   His optics brightened.

   “It-t-it’s restored?” The Fallen’s voice rose, lightening up a bit. “In the third movie?”

I wipe my tears.

  “I do not know yet…” I tell him. “I do know…something major happens. And I can’t tell you.”

~                                              ~                                                       ~

    A little one hour and twenty-five minutes after having the meeting with The Fallen, I did not feel tired. Not at all…That shell in progress…what is it for?  I take off the wire that was like a Band-Aid to my right arm and dropped it on the floor.  Of course my right arm starts aching. Not too long after that my right shoulder ached.

     I stood in front of a gigantic mirror. My 3-D glasses are still on, hair is completely a mess, pants haven’t been ripped, my long black-turtle neck T-Shirt with a ‘w’ Emblem and orange shoulder guards does not even look different.  I look kind of blurry, just as an effect of not having my glasses.

   “Wow Ivy,” I note to myself. “You are really lucky for not screaming at yourself this time staring at the mirror.” I laugh at myself. “Now…to get better not speaking--Wait. I’m talking slow. That’s not right.”  

  My persona in the Transformers animated world is at the moment a pretender, as a best way to explain her having the claws like a lion, a tail that could possibly come out, and a heightened sense.

I heard this loud rumble.

“Humans scream at the mirror?”

 I turn around, its no-other than Megatron.

“How often do you scream at mirrors?” Megatron asks me.

I laugh.

“Only when waking up in front of the mirror for an odd reason!” I joke. “Do you scream at the mirror?”

 Megatron has this dumbstruck expression. If he thinks standing like a creep staring at somebody while contemplating is something good then something is really up with his thinking style. Come on, it’s comparable to having the spot-light on me by accident, Hollywood style. Sometimes even the best bad guys get the worst spotlight, screen time, and promotion. Way to go on developing villains, Hollywood!

“…No.” Megatron finally answers.           

He looks so stupid right now.

“Megatron, give me back my heel!”

I giggle.

“Megs got a thing for heels.” I rattle a kid-y theme. “Nah nah nah nah!”

He shot a threatening glare at me.

“Do not call me Megs under any circumstances!” He strictly told me. “Or else you are dead.”

Well he can’t stop me.

“Okay…” I said when he turns around where Starscream is impatiently holding his servo out for the heel. “Megs”

My life is cool: Gigantic robots; Decepticons and Autobots. Cybertron, and the whole boundaries of movies lay ahead. The popcorn bag is not running out of popcorn anytime soon, It replaces the popcorn that was eaten or taken out, learned it could do that after eating some lunch from it for a while.  

     Things couldn’t get any better.