A/N: Okay, I need to get this out of my head, it's annoying the crap out of me. I used the jumpchain (which will be posted later) for the Bayverse Transformers and took the crossover drawback so I've made it an Aligned/Bayverse crossover. Basically, imagine War for Cybertron and Fall of Cybertron but mixed with Bayverse's...Bayverse-ness (a lot of explosions and brutality); I have also taken the 'Time' drawback so SI-MC will start in the civil war of Cybertron and will not join Earth for quite some time if I feel like it. I have only read a few IDW 2005 Transformers comics (and not in order) so I might incorporate a few things that I like.

"Life is a sacred piece of the universe. It does not matter if you were made in my Well or in a laboratory. You are alive, young one, with the ability to choose. Always remember that. And you shall make a decision that will decide the fate of this world. Follow your heart and your spark, and decide. Until all are one!"

[Operation: Spark Synchronisation…Complete]

'Where…Where am I?'

It was dark. I could not move, a twitch of my fingers touched and prodded around the darkness and the familiar rough texture of metal greeted me. I tried to speak but I could not, as that same metal all that escaped were wordless noises of scratchy electronic noises - filled with an almost inaudible, bone-moving bass and incomprehensible vowels.

'Oh.' I thought to myself. 'That's why I can't speak.' Rolling my lips, I cringed as stabs of needles plundered my mouth.

[Operation: Subspace Storage Pocket Activation…Complete]

[Operation: Language Transfer…25%...43%...77%...100%...Complete]

[Operation: Memory Banks Synchronisation…5%...7%...7.5%...ERROR…ERROR…MEMORY BANKS INFECTED…Commencing Fusion…Complete]

'Oh, I remember now.'

I had completed a jumpchain for the Transformers live-action films that were directed by Michael Bay, or Bayverse as it came to be called.

"Zeta Prime! Optimus! We've found someone! They're buried over here!" Cried out a voice but I could not see its origins.

I remembered that voice.

I groaned again, hoping the owner of that voice could hear me, to pull me out of this tomb - attempting to move only caused the metal shards to drive deeper - as my optics finally activated.

[Operation: Optic Activation… commencing…18%...43%...78%...100%...Complete]

"Then what are you waiting for?!" Yelled another voice, deeper and more involved with authority.

'Oh.' I repeated as I also recognised the second voice. 'I took the crossover Drawback, didn't I? And the…the Time Extension…and the Time drawback. I'm on Cybertron during the war…shit.'

[Damage sustained to 83% of body…activating Stasis Lock Protocol]

I could not tell due to my surroundings but my vision started to turn dark, just as my on-board diagnosis informed me - but just as I completely went underneath my coma, the tomb overhead was unearthed, and I could see the one who launched the metal from me.

Ratchet. Medic of the Autobots.

And behind him were two other Autobots, familiar and my heart, or my spark now, felt over-encumbered at the sight.

Zeta Prime and Optimus, though not yet Prime if my timing is correct, with appearances that were familiar to me as I had watched YouTube videos of the games, they were from.

"A new-forged?" Gasped Optimus, the calming strong but kind voice of red and blue Cybertronian almost calmed my new circuits down as his eyes widened in shock, and concern.

"Obviously one that would've been part of Megatron's rabble." Zeta Prime scowled at me. "Maybe this one will have information in its memory banks. Take him back to Iacon!"

Now my future as a prisoner, or experiment, of war set in stone, I could not speak nor whimper as my consciousness faded.

"Do not worry, young one. Despite your beginnings, you are now one of mine."

Bleeps, beeps and bloops were in my head as I awoke from my stasis lock. My tired limbs were forced to my side as fast-acting bindings stopped any movement. Optics scanned my surroundings and I found myself on an operating table, the lone one inside a dilapidated room - more of a large storage room for janitors to store their equipment. Not a lot of space is what I'm saying, with barely two of my arm lengths of area on either side for someone to move around me.

My mind was slowed, and could not remember the reason why I was strapped down by the good guys.

Before I could the door in front shifted its lock open and sheets of metal morphed out of place to allow Ratchet to walk in - a Cybertronian equivalent of a medical clipboard in hand. He swiped and pressed a few buttons and tabs, only to spot my optics staring at him.

"Ah, you're awake." He near-smiled in relief. "Don't worry, New-Forged. Your stasis lock fixed most of the damage and the rest is just superficial. A quick examination should tell me what to fix."

"But why? What have I done?" The answer was answered by my memory banks finally speeding back to normal. "Oh…your…superior, Zeta Prime."

Guilt quickly showed itself on Ratchet's face and he reluctantly nodded. "Yes…Yes, you were made in a…lab. I am unsure what information was uploaded into your memory banks but…I might as well tell you." He turned and took a seat at my side and regaled me with the well-known story. "Cybertron is embroiled in civil war, New-Forged. The Decepticons, led by Megatron, have started this war in the name of 'liberation' but this is a lie. Megatron is a tyrant, a mad one at that, that wants to lead Cybertron to conquer the universe." Ratchet twitched and growled in frustration. "His only opposition is us." He paused to pat his chest, the logo of every child's favourite group of autonomous robotic organisms. "The Autobots." The medic closed his optics, clenching them so tightly I could hear the living metal squeal. "And you were created, built by Megatron's right hand and a scientist - knew whose intelligence is only matched by Megatron's ego - Shockwave."

"And so, your superior thinks that because I was built by the enemy; I must have information about them." I gritted out, anger and sadness retched from my vocal processor.

"Yes. I offered to do the memory download myself, but…Zeta declined, and called in someone else."

The chuckle at my fate escaped without much struggle, Ratchet did not speak up nor stare with confusion; he understood. "And you call Megatron a tyrant?"

The medic turned silent and almost folded in sadness as I continued chuckling in madness. Finding out Shockwave was effectively my parent did not move me, nor did the fact that I would be more than likely tortured for information, that I might not have, in a few minutes - so many revelations were being blasted into my memory banks at such speed I could not take a breath to make sense of it all.

'Maybe when I'm being tortured is when I finally go insane.'

Well, you think about the prospect of living in a universe of talking robots fighting a civil war with Earth being space, robot Satan, and a magic metal cube somehow giving life. I was genuinely surprised Energon wasn't already dripping from my mouth, or screaming gibberish about the All-Spark or Unicron.

My chuckles stopped stone, dead cold as Zeta Prime entered my prison cell - followed closely behind by five other Autobots: four were clearly bodyguards with Energon spears, and one came with a large crate, and I recognised none of them.

Which was obvious in retrospect. I only know a handful of Transformers compared to the probably near hundred, maybe millions of Autobots and Decepticons that were on Cybertron.

"I see our prisoner is awake." Zeta Prime said. His scowl was nowhere to be seen on his shining body of azure and gold. "You may leave Ratchet, I have some questions for him."

"Sir, I must protest, he has just come online from a stasis lo-."

"Do not worry, Ratchet." Zeta waved off the medic's objections like swatting a fly. "I have my own personal medic here to make sure any…complications are resolved."

Ratchet sighed. His chassis was covered in soot, and shards splintered from the dirty white and red body; shoulders down and expression overwhelmed in defeat.

Something changed, however, in his chassis, memory bank and spark, when our optics met in the middle. I imagine I looked like a pitiful child, though in terms of the Cybertronian time scale, I am a baby, because Ratchet - who looked ready to roll and die, breathed deep, despite not needing to breathe, and stood straighter than a skyscraper before hurriedly leaving.

"Now, Decepticon." Zeta loomed over me as if the Prime thought he was God or, more accurately, Primus himself. "You may have fooled Ratchet and our scans, but you and I both know that you are a mongrel that seeks to kill anyone that doesn't agree with you. Whether you want to or not, you will give me the answers I seek."

I leaned back. A flinching punch in my gut as the situation finally caught up to the rational part of my brain. "P-P…Zeta Prime. I am-am a New-Forged, how can I k-know anything?"

"Ahh," Zeta smiled cruelly. "But memory banks can be tampered with, I imagine you know this, Decepticon, and you also know that memories can be brought to the surface when…encouraged." Prime then nodded to a bodyguard. "Darkblight."

A noise ripped from my throat. It echoed, it was muted. It was far away, it was close by. It howled. It whined. Looking down, I spotted the source of my agony. An Energon spear had pierced my chassis - not even an inch from my spark chamber with the added benefit of electricity bolting through my circuitry and wiring, pulsating higher and higher until I saw nothing but white - my optics malfunctioning as hundreds of thousands of volts penetrated my on-board systems.

[ATT-TTT…TTT…ATTEMPTIN…..IIIIINNNNGGG….REEEREEEEBOOTE****...FFAA*123=631IKURE]

"Plethhhhh!" I spluttered out; my body twitched, my mind blanked, vision fuzzed. "Stophhhhhh!"

"Enough."

The pain stopped, but the phantom aftermath did not.

Whimpers and hisses were all I could manage. My body, unresponsive when I attempted to curl up, shook from the voltage when the cuffs spluttered and shouted as they were tightened to their extreme, more noises came from me as Zeta Prime called out.

"Again."

"S-Stop." I pleaded. Optical and nasal lubricant leaked. I was sure if I was still human, my bowels would have definitely voided. Shame was the first feeling that birthed in my spark, I wanted to be strong, for a Prime to recognise that I was telling the truth; anger was the second, why did Zeta do this? He's no better than Megatron; then came dread and fear.

"Pleas-Please. Stop. I do-do-don'tknowanything."

It then finally hit me.

I was in Transformers. I was on Cybertron. I was a part of the civil war and the Autobot leader was killing me.

'Help! Someone please, help me!'

The spear was lifted. I closed my optics and tried to prepare for the oncoming agony.

"Zeta! What is going on here?!" Demanded Optimus, his walk rushed and Ratchet was just behind the future Prime.

Zeta huffed to himself. "Just extracting information about the enemy, Optimus."

The indifferent words to his actions seemed to get underneath Optimus' chassis.

"And we become the enemy in the process."

"This is war, Optimus." Zeta countered, turning to his subordinate. "If we are to win, then we must beat the enemy, and if we must dirty our hands to succeed. Then so be it." Zeta once again silently ordered his bodyguard to electrify me again, and Darkblight raised the weapon and quickly thrusted down.

Turning my optics off in fear, I whimpered like a wounded animal being struck by its owner.

"No!"

A clang. A grunt of surprise.

"Optimus!" Yelled Zeta Prime.

Optics now back online, I saw a sight for sore eyes. Optimus stood over me, Energon spear in hand - taken from Darkblight who was now across the room - as Optimus pointed the blade point at Zeta.

"We must not become like those we are sworn to fight. If we do then we are no better and we might as well have lost." Optimus lectured, cool and calm. "Cybertron is ravaged, do our sparks follow in its footsteps?"

My prison cell was silent. Not a single Cybertronian spoke nor moved, shifted or hummed. Optimus had defended me from his leader, from further pain. Giving off a short speech in a voice that always struck deep in me when I was still a young human.

"Tssk." Zeta made a disgruntled noise as he turned to exit - his bodyguards and medic following behind him, with Optimus wordlessly tossing the spear back to Darkblight. "Your morality is admirable, Optimus. Don't come begging when you find yourself surrounded on all sides because of it."

With that warning, Zeta Prime left.

"Ratchet. This new-forged needs repairs." Optimus ordered.

"Right away, Optimus."

"T-Thank y-you." I whispered.

[Damage sustained to 63% of body…activating Stasis Lock Protocol]

"Please, don't thank me, New-Forged." Optimus waved away, though much more humble than Zeta Prime. "Thank Ratchet. He was the one who warned me what was happening."

For the second time that day, from my perspective, my vision was fading to black and my mind became addled once more.

"Even..still…thank you…Optimus…Prime…"

I didn't hear what Optimus said except for a muffled talk between himself and Ratchet as I fell into another stasis lock.

Thoughts on this so far? Good, bad? Criticism is appreciated.