To the Past
Summary: Rodimus and Tailgate accidentally end up is the VERY distant past.
"Now where are we?" Rodimus asked aloud, once they'd reached the end of the cavern they'd decided to explore. A Rewind-sized crack in the far wall allowed them a glimpse of what lay beyond their reach.
"There's nothing here. Just vast emptiness," Tailgate announced, gesturing to the barren landscape of cold metal that extended beyond the mountains.
"Boring," Rodimus groaned.
"Should we search in another direction?" the minibot asked curiously.
"Might as well. There's clearly nothing…"
"01001000 01100101 01101100 01101100 01101111 00100001"
The cybertronians spun around, rebooting their optics in shock at the sight of the orange-plated mech standing behind them. He was both familiar and mysterious at the same time.
"Is that binary code?" Tailgate asked, tilting his helm. "I mean, I know what it is, but I've never heard it spoken before."
{Apologies. I said, Hello,} the slim mech answered, this time speaking in ancient cybertronian.
"Primal vernacular now? I haven't spoken that in thousands of vorns," Rodimus grumbled, rubbing his forehead.
"Why are you speaking in ancient cybertronian, Rung?" the minibot asked.
{My designation is not… Rung, little one. But it is still wonderful to meet you. I thought I was the only one here,} the lithe mech announced, wrapping Rodimus in an unexpected hug.
"Whoa! Good to see you, too, Ring. Getting a little touchy feely there." The prime stepped back the moment he was released. His optics narrowed as the therapist knelt to pull Tailgate close, cuddling him happily.
"I like hugs," the little blue and white mech decided, returning the embrace. Glancing over the taller mech's shoulder, he spotted a pathway in the rock that they clearly hadn't noticed on their way into the cavern. Beyond the path lay what appeared to be a pool of liquid metal. "What is that?"
The therapist stood, turning his gaze to the easily overlooked path within the cavern's walls. {That is our birthplace, brothers. Come.} Reaching out, he grasped both their servos, and tugged them into the darkness.
Surprised at the mech's strength, the pair followed in silence as he led them to the edge of the pool. The sun glinted down from a jagged opening above, shimmering across the surface of the sentio metallic pool. Tailgate jerked back in shock, wrapping his startled arms around Rodimus' leg as a long fingered hand burst from the surface of the liquid. The hand sunk back down, only to be replaced by a robotic head.
{Another brother!} the therapist cried, clapping his servos in delight. Reaching out, he grasped the new mech's now outstretched hand, and helped him onto the ledge overlooking the pool. Liquid metal dripped off his protoform, even as his azure optics came to focus on Rung.
{I… am… Mortilus,} the newborn cybertronian announced, his voice as smooth as glass. He spoke his designation as a symbol, rather than a word.
{Welcome, Mortilus. I am Primus. And our brothers are… what WERE your designations again?} the therapist asked, glancing at Rodimus and Tailgate. The pair were unable to speak, their gazes riveted to the new mech's face. As they watched, the liquid metal solidified into proper features, leaving behind a very familiar figure.
"You're the necrobot!" the prime suddenly shouted, pointing at the new mech in amazement.
{What is a necrobot?} the crimson-faced mech asked, glancing at his orange-plated companion.
{I'm not sure, brother dear. Oh, and we have another sibling on the way. How exciting!} All optics focused on the larger mech that was heaving himself out of the silver liquid. Following closely behind him, two more mechs emerged from the sentio metallic, each with similarly melted features.
{Greetings. I am Adaptus,} the now-blue plated mech, with a warrior's build, announced. He reached out and clasped both Rung and the necrobot by the servos, clearly eager to greet them.
{My designation is Epistemus,} the mech with the single-opticed face stated. He did not attempt to shake anyone's servo, and instead turned his gaze to the mech who had crawled out of the liquid only moments after him
"Tyrest?" Rodimus choked, once the last mech's features set.
{No, brother. My name is Solomus,} the green-plated mech replied, nodding at him.
"Wait… If I'm translating the ancient cybertronian correctly, then they're…" Tailgate took a deep breath, and pointed at each mech in turn. "Primus, Mortilus, Adaptus, Epistemus, and Solomus. Rodimus, they're the Guiding Hand! Best quest ever!"
"No slaggin' way," the prime whispered, slack-jawed. That meant they had traveled back in time. WAAAAAAY back in time. And their ship's therapist was actually Primus himself. The necrobot being the god of death wasn't too much of a stretch, even if he didn't seem the type to start a god war. That Adaptus guy though… his chin could put Impactor to shame. Epistemus reminded him way too much of Shockwave, and Solomus looked exactly like Chief Justice Tyrest, minus the cape and crown. Must have gotten those later.
{Hello, elder tiny brother. Come to my arms!} Adaptus grabbed Tailgate by the waist, and lifted him onto his broad shoulder. {Now you can see what we see, little one. We seven shall be known as the Guiding Hand!}
~Did I hit my head or something? That's got to be it. There's just no way any of this could be true~ thought Rodimus, shaking his head. A sudden pulse of electricity in the air caught their attention. A glimmering portal opened behind them, blocking off the passageway even as a familiar scientist stepped through, raising a curious brow at the group before him.
"Geeze, there you are. We were looking for you. Oh, hey there." Brainstorm waved at the other five mechs.
{Another brother for the Guiding Hand!} Adaptus shouted, striding forward to clap the scientist roughly on the shoulder.
"Yeah… wait, what?"
"They're the GUIDING HAND!" Tailgate nearly shouted, practically bouncing on Adaptus' shoulder.
"Hang on a nano click." Brainstorm shoved his upper half through the portal, and yanked another minibot into the cavern. "Quick, camera bot. Take a picture!"
"My name is Rewind, and you know it," the little black-plated mech grumbled, but his helm camera shone brightly as he took in the group on the ledge. "Alright everyone. Say 'Optimus Prime!'"
Rodimus rolled his optics, but posed for the camera.
"Optimus Prime!"
{Optimus Prime!}
{What is an Optimus Prime, and why is that little mech flashing his light at us?} Mortilas whispered to his elder brother, forcing his lips into a smile.
{I have no idea,} Primus admitted, shrugging his shoulders once the light had faded. {But our new companions are so darling, aren't they. I feel like we should be protecting them.}
{I agree. They do seem far more fragile than we are,} said Mortilus, glancing at the other three mechs that had crawled out of the pool after him.
"Okay! We've got to go now. See you later, guys! And, you know, till all are one!" shouted Rodimus, even as he shoved Tailgate through the portal after Brainstorm and Rewind.
{Till all are one… what a curious saying,} Primus muttered to himself.
"What did you two do!"
"Heh, heh. Funny story, actually," Rodimus chuckled nervously. Ultra Magnus loomed over them, clearly upset.
"They went to the past, and met the Guiding Hand, it seems," Megatron sighed, staring at the picture Rewind was casting upon the viewing screen.
"Yeah… and it turns out that our little therapist is actually Primus. Surprise! Oh, and the necrobot is Mortilus, and Tyrest is Solomus. I've never actually met the other two," Rodimus said, shrugging his shoulders.
The door to the bridge swished open, and a slim, orange mech made his way into the room. His gaze was focused on the datapad in his servos, and he only looked up when he realized that the room had gone deathly silent. "Ah, Ultra Magnus. I have a question for you about… Is that a picture of me?" His gaze traveled over the group on the screen, his helm tilting curiously.
"Why didn't you TELL US that you were Primus!" Blaster demanded, his field radiating excitement.
"Er… What? I'm old, but I'm not THAT old," the therapist insisted, his gaze drawing back to the picture on the screen. "But those mechs do seem strangely familiar."
"Maybe he's so old that he lost his memory," Rodimus suggested.
"Yes. I remember Verity mentioning that her grandfather had something called 'dementia' that caused him to forget a great deal about his life," Ultra Magnus insisted.
"Um, no. I'm sure I would remember being Primus," Rung stated calmly, shaking his head. "Now, about that question, Ultra Magnus."
"Pssst!" Tailgate whispered loudly, waving Rodimus, Rewind, and Brainstorm closer.
"What's up, legs?" the prime asked, crouching down.
"We have to make Rung remember who he is. But, um… how do we do that?" the minibot asked, glancing over at the unassuming orange mech.
"No idea. Maybe Ratchet will have answers for us," Rodimus sighed. "Alright then. Operation: Get Rung Back His Memories of Being a God, and come up with a better name for this operation later, is a go!"
