I drove past him every day, a derelict wreck parked near a tornado destroyed set of storage barns. The paint was dulled from the original red and the windows shattered out and staring like great vacant eyes. It was tilted up so that the steel grill was skyward, as though it were fixated in a death gaze. Where the arms should have been, it had been busted away, tanks laying nearby on metal beams that once served more than just a stepping stool for feet. Optimus Prime wasn't exactly my favorite Transformer like a lot of other fans of the series, but the resemblance was uncanny as I drove by and stared at the wreck. Small thoughts edged at my mind for years, "What would it be like? Wouldn't it be cool if imagination were that powerful? What if I went and checked in the glove compartment, would there be a set of gold bracelets in there for me? If there were, would I put them on? What would it be like to stand near something so big, to be a part of a sentience greater than my own. Even though I'm a girl, could I be a headmaster?" Then I would grin at my thoughts and giggle at just how absurd they were. I didn't really like the Masterforce series that much to begin with, but it was an entertaining thought. Then, one night, I had a dream. As I laid in my bed I twisted and turned within the vividness of it. The war, it was so real, so very real. I could see the war torn surface of Cybertron where once shining metal was now dulled by constant warfare. All around me there was laserfire, occasionally puncuated by a far greater sound of heavier artillery. The smell of lubricants and seared metal hit my senses, as my sight traveled to those who were fighting nearby, on both sides. Their cries echoed over the landscape, some in triumph and intimidation, more in pain from wounds they had inflicted upon each other. Darkness fell and soon only their optical lights in a rainbow of color were left, each one individual and reflective of its bearer's current thoughts and what they were feeling, then that was gone and only the sound remained. Light glimmered all around me, blindingly now, bluish white and warm. Immediately, I sensed what it was. I could feel my jaw drop at the reality of this dream. "The Matrix..." But, I hated the idea of 'The Matrix'. That awe inspiring globe of sparkly light that it seemed no one could do anything without. At least, the Autobots were like that. Rodimus Prime put all his hope on 'The Matrix' and it always seemed without it, all was lost. I rejected the idea as invalid and had always put it off as something akin to simply a storage unit, not a mystic object, but now, it was here within my dreams ... and it was speaking to me. 'It is to those whom see that the Matrix is not an end in itself that we chose.' "What are you talking about?" I questioned nervously, feeling myself floating now, facing toward the warmth, being flooded by knowledge, compassion and the emotions of millenia old beings. 'We need a new spirit to arise and take the place of the old that has been destroyed, a new mind.' There were voices, so many voices, all echoing within my head. I sensed what they were alluding to, but didn't want to accept it. 'We choose you.' I could feel myself scream, but it was a detached experience at those words. The last thing I wanted was to be attached to some huge piece of metal, and in a dreamstate, ideas are so much more powerful and overwhelming. Darkness fell again as the light faded, but the whisper of many voices still ran through my head. 'We choose you.' With a startled yelp, I jerked awake, sitting upright and breathing hard. That was weird, one of the weirdest things my overactive imagination had come up with, but I was relieved to see no light in my room, only the crimson flicker of the light on my computer. I've never been one to attribute much meaning to dreams, so I laid awake for a few minutes, then fell asleep, dreaming no more that night. The next morning, there was an uneasy air lingering around me. I stared at the walls of the house toward where the semi rested in its mechanical graveyard and could almost feel it calling to me. On a whim, I made a call to the local bodyshop. Sure, they were open and within the hour, someone was out there with me to look at the wreck. He hmmmed and walked around it through waist high golden grass, kneeling and checking the parts, "Well, ah think we can do somethin' about this. It's not really as bad as it looks. See, look here, nothin's broken, it's just tilted. Needs new wheels, new paint and these parts bolted back inta place. You're looking at around four thousand worth of work, maybe more." I nodded dumbly, almost in a tranfixed state as I imagined it all fixed up and gleaming. The trailer section was missing and I wondered where it went, but didn't think about where I was going to get the money to pay for repairing him. It struck me I kept referring to the semi as a 'him'. I had to get back to reality, bad, but I just couldn't pull myself away. I watched as later they came and loaded him,... it ... onto a tow truck so it could be towed into town and repaired.
The call came in the next week to go check on the progress and I talked my sister into driving me up there since I was low on gas. What was I DOING?? I couldn't afford the bill to pay for fixing the semi up. Once there, I was shown the finished project. The metal gleamed under a fresh coat of red paint, while the chrome had been detailed and everything was in the right place. The undercarriage was even blue. I was astonished at just how much it looked like Optimus. I couldn't resist opening the driver's side door and sliding onto the leather seat. It hit me that I had no idea how to drive a semi, but didn't stop me from turning the key in the ignition. There was a dull roar that escalated into a powerful purring sound, causing the seat below me to vibrate for a few moments until it smoothed out. Just for kicks, I reached over and unlatched the glove department. There was a light click and snap as it dropped open, but as I figured. There were no shiny gold headmaster bracelets. Oh well. I closed it up and sighed in disappointment. That little daydream was really to big for me and it was nothing but a dream. I started to turn off the engine so I could get out and tell the mechanic I couldn't pay for it, when I was frozen in place. The voices of the Matrix again spoke. 'Foolish human, the Chosen don't need such things thought up by human imaginations.' With that, my eyes were blinded briefly by bluish light and I could feel the cool of metal enclosing my body into almost a form fit, while my body itself was changed. What was going on?! I slid out of the drivers seat and landed with a thud on my butt, looking up at a startled mechanic. His jaw dropped open and the cigarette he'd been smoking dangled for a moment from his lips, then fell. He started to say something as I wobbly got to my feet, too stunned to really think and panicing at what was happening. Hey, where was MY choice in this?! 'You choice, deep down, is to do this. Arise and take your place in what you've imagined for so long. You've always entertained the idea of being one of us.' Actually, I'd rather have been a Transformer with a more graceful form than this. It hurt badly as I felt the semi behind me go into transformation sequence and my own body transformed with me protesting loudly. I soon realized that it was because I was not cooperating that it hurt since there was a merge going on. I was lifted up and felt the snap and sudden flood of thought throughout me, shared thought. This was all ... too weird for me, and for the mechanic. He yelled and turned to run as there was now a 35 foot tall robot standing in the middle of the parking lot. We started walking while I conversed, "Why... why?" 'We have had our time, it's time for someone new. The war is being resumed as we speak. There are more, around the world going through similar of what has happened to you and it is now your job, in your new body to go and seek them out. You are no longer a human, you are a Transformer and can never go back.' You know, I really do hate the Matrix.