KrissyKat91: For those of you who don't bother reading the author bios (I know I rarely do), this is a warning: I'm a crossover fanatic. I have forty-one stories on my laptop (finished and unfinished), and twenty-two of them are crossovers. I am of the opinion that almost anything can be crossed with anything else as long as one has the proper amount of the three i's of authorship: imagination, inspiration, and insanity.

IknowIknowIknow I need to finish Prime Awakening, but I really want to post this.

Ch. 1: A World Undone

Krypton, 1983 by Earth's calendar

Krypton City

Jor-El sighed as he walked through the sliding door of his home, located on the outskirts of Krypton City.

Today had been a waste of precious time. Not only had the Grand Council laughed at his findings, they'd actually had the gall to have him forcibly removed from the Hall, presumably for disrupting the peace.

Disrupting the peace, my eye, he thought bitterly. Disrupting their meaningless debates is more like it.

"Lara?" he called as he stepped into the living room. "Are you here?"

"Coming, Jor!" his wife yelled from somewhere in the back of the house. A moment later she came into the room, a sleeping baby cradled in her arms.

Jor-El's heart clenched painfully at the sight of his son. Little Kal-El wasn't even a year old. The thought that he might not live to grow up was unbearable.

Seeing the look on her husbands face, Lara frowned. "I take it the visit to the Council Hall didn't go like you wanted?"

"They're a bunch of vain, hardheaded cowards, the whole lot of them," he growled, taking Kal-El from her.

"We'll make them see reason. We'll run some more tests. Maybe that will—"

"There's no time for more tests, Lara," Jor-El said softly.

"...How long?"

"Days. Hours, perhaps." He studied his son for a moment, then added, "Do you remember what I told you we'd do if—if worst came to worst?"

The color drained from Lara's face. "No!" she gasped.

"We have no choice, Lara. Not if we want any kind of a future for Kal."

Lara nodded, looking miserable.

"I'll go prep the rocket," he said, handing Kal-El back to her. "You need to sedate him, so he won't wake up on the trip."

"Okay," she whimpered.

As Jor-El took the lift to his underground lab, he heard Lara start to cry. The sound broke his heart.

A few minutes later, as he was putting some data crystals into a special compartment in the escape rocket, Lara came into the lab.

Kal-El was still sleeping in her arms, but now it was the sleep of the heavily sedated. Lara had wrapped him in the blanket her mother had given them the day Kal-El was born, the one with the El family crest on it.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"I'll never be ready," she sighed, then asked, "Are we sending him to Cybertron? Optimus always said he'd be glad to take him."

Jor-El made a face. "Optimus meant for a short visit when he's much older. Besides, I can't even stomach the thought of sending Kal into that war zone. No, we're sending him to a planet the inhabitants simply call Earth."

"Will he survive there, Jor?"

"Survive there? He'll thrive there! The planet's very environment will be his armor! Earth has a yellow sun, Lara! Yellow radiation! He'll be able to do things no one else can do!

"He'll be able to see through solid objects, burn things just by looking at them, lift more than any other man! He'll be able to run faster, jump higher, see farther, and hear better than anyone else can! Nothing will be able to hurt him! He'll be able to fly! He will be that world's Man of Tomorrow!"

"That sounds wonderful, Jor," Lara interrupted, "but it won't matter if we don't get him going!"

"R-right, o-of course," Jor-El stammered. Taking Kal-El from her again, he handed her a data crystal. "Send this to Optimus, please. I don't want him thinking the Decepticons had anything to do this."

After sending the message, Lara joined Jor-El at the rocket's control panel.

"Are we really doing the right thing, Jor?" she asked.

"We have no choice, Lara. We have no choice."

"How far away is Earth?"

"...Far. Very far."

As the engines on the rocket fired up, the ground beneath them started to shake.

"Another one?" Lara asked.

Face white, Jor-El slapped the button that sent Kal-El's rocket into the air.

Wrapping his arms around Lara, he whispered, "No. The last one."

And as Kal-El's rocket broke through the atmosphere and shot off through a wormhole, Krypton exploded.

Cybertron, 1983

Iacon

Optimus Prime looked up from his datawork when his personal computer beeped, optics flickering in confusion.

Odd, he thought. I wasn't expecting any messages.

Accepting the message, Optimus was pleasantly surprised to find that it was from his old friend, Jor-El of Krypton. As he scrolled through it, however, his pleasure turned to disbelief, then horror, and finally grief.

The message read:

Dear Optimus,

By the time you receive this, Krypton will be gone. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, and in retrospect, the Council might have listened to you when they wouldn't listen to me. They say hindsight is 20/20.

Anyway, I wanted you to know that the Decepticons are not to blame for this. Krypton's core has been unstable for years, and the planet just couldn't handle it anymore.

But it's not the end of Krypton! I have sent my infant son, Kal-El, to a planet on the far side of the galaxy, a planet the natives simply call Earth.

With him I sent a data crystal containing all the knowledge of our world, as well as one with some personal messages, so he will always know who he is, and the legacy he holds within him as my son, the Last Son of Krypton.

Farewell, old friend. May you win your war with as few casualties as possible.

Your Friend,

Jor-El, son of Lan-El and Nira, born of the House of Mu into the House of El

Earth, 1988

Tranquility, Nevada

Ron and Judy Witwicky were driving home from Mission City Memorial Hospital when it happened.

They had been trying to have children for some time now, and had finally gone to a doctor to find out why it wasn't working. The man had tried to be nice about it, but there was no nice way of saying barren. The Witwicky's were understandably upset, so the mood in the truck was quiet and subdued. All that changed when they were nearly run off the road by a small rocket.

"HANG ON, JUDY!" Ron shouted as he tried to get the truck back under control. The vehicle twisted and turned until it was finally stopped by a conveniently placed tree.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked his wife after he'd gotten his breath back.

"I think so. What was that thing?"

"I don't know, but I'm gonna find out. Stay here."

Judy's eyes narrowed. "Not on your life, buster! I'm going with you!"

"Fine, but stay close."

Getting out of the truck, they made their way towards the impact trench the strange craft had made.

Climbing over a small hill, the Witwicky's were surprised to find, not the crash site they were expecting, but a small ship floating placidly in a pond, almost as if it were waiting for them.

"Maybe we should call the police, Judy. Judy? Judy! What are you doing?! Come back here!"

Judy had broken away from him and was making her way over to the ship, feet sloshing in the shallow water. Reaching for what looked like a lock, she jerked her hand back when the opaque hatch opened at her touch.

Peering inside, her face lit up in joy. Reaching in, she pulled out a small, crying bundle, holding it as if it were the most precious treasure in the world.

"Judy, are you crazy?" Ron hissed as she came back. "We don't know where it came from!"

"He's not an it, Ron. He's a baby. A little baby. Who'd put a baby in a spaceship?"

"That's just it. He could be Russian, a Sputnik baby."

"Oh, Ron, really!"

He shrugged. "Maybe he's one of ours. You think NASA's missing a kid?"

"I don't care where he came from. All I know is he needs us. Look at how he's reaching out to you."

Ron looked down at the now giggling infant and couldn't help but smile. "Cute little guy," he muttered, letting the tiny fingers curl around one of his. "Got a good grip, too. Ow."

The bones in his finger suddenly crackled. "OW!" he yelped, jerking his hand free.

"What do you think of the name Samuel?" Judy asked as she walked back to the truck.

"Now, Judy, let's discuss this."

"Or how about John?"

"Judy."

"I know. We'll use my maiden name as a first name, and your father's name as a middle name." Smiling down at the baby, she said, "Clark Kent Witwicky."