"Knowledge..." She repeated what Optimus said.
If the government didn't know, if the Witwiccans Order succeeded to hide this truth for centuries, who else would know?
Then she looked at the four autobots on my window.
"The Cybertronians themselves..." she whispered so low, as her inner thoughts slipped out from my mind.
That's when her hand feels something. Something thicker than a paper, thicker than a map. She lifted it up. An envelope, with something more than a letter inside it. She looked at the Autobots.
He saw the change in her eyes the moment her fingers brushed against that envelope—like her instincts had already shouted before your logic caught up. Bee leaned forward just a little, silent, his optics narrowing. Mirage stopped fidgeting entirely. Even Ratchet went quiet, his scanners probably locking on the object in your hand without even needing a command.
But it was him who spoke—voice low, edged with solemn gravity.
"Open it carefully."
He stepped closer, the glow of his optics catching the tension in her face.
"If it was hidden… it wasn't meant to be found easily."
"And if it wasn't meant to be found—then it might have been meant… to warn."
He paused.
"Or worse… to lure."
A rare flicker crossed Optimus's tone then—something she'd rarely heard from him. Concern. But not for the danger.
"I'll be right here, Rosie." The words were a promise, and more than just tactical. "Whatever's inside… you're not facing it alone."
She turned the envelope, the seal already broken. A wax seal with a bird symbol.
"Den Riehm seal. It's written by Den Riehm's."
Slowly she opened the fragile envelope, there's just a piece of paper inside, and something flat like a card or cardboard covered by a very old seal wax.
She read what's written in the paper. It's really hard to read because it's written in a very old cursive letter.
"Do not try to dismantle the seal. Other than Den Riehms, will lose their lives instantly, Den Riehms who can't heed the warning, will lose their minds. But if you are Den Riehm who meets a Prime. This is for you."
She looked at the Autobots.
Mirage instinctively shifted his stance. Bee let out a soft, confused chirp. Ratchet's optics narrowed sharply as he scanned the object from a distance—but it was Optimus who stood perfectly still, eyes locked on hers.
"A message only you can open… and one meant for a moment like this," He said, voice deepening with gravity. "This wasn't left behind at random. Your family knew this day would come."
Optimus stepped closer, lowering his voice—his tone now quiet, not for secrecy, but reverence.
"Rosie… in all the stars I've crossed, the thousands of beings I've fought to protect, it is rare… very rare… to find destiny written this boldly."
Then, softer, "And rarer still, that I would be the Prime written into it."
He looked down at the sealed card—old, dangerous, and full of intent. Then he looked at you.
"I won't ask you to open it unless you believe it's time. But if you do… I'll be right here. You carry your family's legacy in your hands, and now…" Optimus' voice quieted into something rare—gentle.
"You may also be carrying our fate."
She turned slowly, and took the sealed card.
The seal is already hardened like glass. Rosie cracked it with her nails, with all her might. Then the seal was shattered exactly like a glass, and when she slowly got rid of the seal fragments. It was a real card board, almost like a very thick paper. With black coarse dust on it. She lifted that thick paper slowly then spilled the dust on her hand.
Something written on that thick paper, another very old cursive letter.
She read it.
"AllSparks Dust..."
That's when she felt the sharp sting from the dust on her hand. An instant her vision gets blurred, and her body feels this wave of electric shock. It feels like she's about to have seizures
She broke down, and the last thing Rosie saw was Optimus's face.
She doesn't know what happened, but it feels like she's been dragged to some point of time that is very far away. Beyond the tunnel filled with flashback events that felt like broken records. Someone or something dragged her.
They saw her fall.
No words. Just motion.
The second her body convulsed, Optimus moved faster than he ever had—a blur of red and chrome crashing through time's stillness. Bee shouted her name. Ratchet surged forward, scanner already glowing, and Mirage was already breaking through the window like a ghost made of light and fury.
But Optimus caught her.
"Rosie—" The name left him like a roar choked down to a whisper.
And then… she was gone.
Not physically—not from Optimus's arms. But her eyes rolled back, her breathing shifted, her pulse fluttered beneath his fingers like a trapped bird caught in a storm.
"It's a temporal resonance," Ratchet growled, pressing his scanner to Rosie's wrist. "That dust—it's not just AllSpark matter, it's raw memory. Pure encoded history."
Optimus stared at her face, peaceful and in agony all at once.
"She's being pulled through time," He murmured, a strange weight in his chest he couldn't name. "Someone's showing her the truth... or testing if she can survive it."
Bee made a worried chirp, his optics flashing. Mirage glanced at Optimus, then at Rosie.
"So what do we do?" he asked.
He looked down at her, his grip tightening, then stood with her still in his arms.
"We wait. She's fighting through a thousand years in a blink. And she's doing it alone."
Then, quieter.
"But she won't wake up alone."
And Optimus kept holding her.
Until she came back.
She was in a desert, or what she thought was a desert. A stretch of sand, a very hot sun. Mountains of sand and cliffs.
"Am I dead?" She asked. It felt lighter than when she felt seizure from the dust of AllSparks earlier.
"Of course you're not dead." Suddenly she heard a woman's voice.
When she turned around, she saw a woman in clothes that were either Victorian or Edwardian, definitely clothes of people from the past.
"Huh?" she asked.
"I've been waiting for you, my child. You must be the promised child. Come here..." The woman had black hair and also black eyes like her. Has a thick accent that she has never heard.
"And you?" she asked.
"Delilah Den Riehm. Your ancestor."
Then they walked in the desert as if they were walking in a park. She took her hand.
"So you've met a Prime?" That woman asked.
"Yeah." Rosie replied.
They stopped. Still very much the same desert.
"This is where I first met a Prime. Alpha Trion." She said, Rosie furrowed her brows. Her ancestors had met a Prime? She thought.
"Here. In this desert. I was a scientist and I was exploring Egypt when I met Alpha. Alpha who was badly injured and almost lost his sparks. I knew he wasn't from this earth and there was no way I could help him. But he told me something." Delilah explained.
"What?" She asked.
"For that, you should ask him directly." Then the figure appeared in front of her, a Cybertronian that she couldn't tell who was bigger, him or Optimus.
"What is your name, little human?" His voice rumbled heavy, deep and old.
"Rosamund." Rosie answered.
"Come here Rosamund, I will tell you everything you want to know." He said.
"My name is Alpha Trion and I am one of the thirteen Primes. One of my purposes is to guard, record, the history and archives of Cybertron." He said with all his might. Then suddenly Rosie saw things like a projection of memories on the sand.
"We can reach all universes and it has been written, in any universe, Cybertron will always intersect with Earth. Your Earth." He really was like a grandfather telling a story to his granddaughter. Only more authoritative.
"...and it has also been written, in any universe, the thirteenth Prime will come to Earth and protect humanity. However, I must tell you in this universe, the thirteenth Prime has already faced Primus and returned to the Cybertronian core three million years ago." He explained.
"What do you mean?" She asked.
"The thirteenth Prime was dead. Protecting Cybertronians." He paused for a moment.
Then the other memory projection appeared on the sand, showing the metal hi-tech planet that was in war.
"In our last civil war it was caused because I found evidence of corruption and betrayal of one of the Primes. Sentinel Prime. I gave the evidence to two young Bots. The civil war broke out. The two young bots, Orion Pax and D-16 became Sentinel's targets." It shown two metal being. One of them, called Orion Pax, looks a bit like Optimus Prime.
"Sentinel wanted the AllSparks for power. He killed many Cybertronians. The moment Orion Pax who would become the thirteenth Prime got the Sparks of Leadership, the sentinels and their subordinates attacked him." His voice softly told the tragedy.
"The sentinels attacked and took the thirteenth Prime's closest friends hostage, and did not hesitate to kill them unless the thirteenth Prime surrendered and gave him the AllSparks and the Sparks of Leadership." He paused,
"It was also written that the thirteenth Prime would be the strongest of all the Primes. But the price paid was too great. The death of all the Autobots and his friends. I found out about the AllSparks and intended to take it away to hide it. But the thirteenth Prime gave him the Sparks of Leadership, and he died."
It's horrific.
"Then what happened?" She asked again..
"Sentinel did not understand that the Sparks of Leadership were to be earned, not taken. The Sparks of Leadership turned to dust in the unworthy hands. Sentinel was furious, the Autobots left Cybertronians to save themselves, and I, I went to Earth to hide the AllSparks and guard them until the end of my life. D-16 who was now known as Megatron, filled with anger because of the death of his friends, also went looking for the AllSparks to avenge the death of the thirteenth Prime."
He said again.
"But I am old, and I can no longer repair my body from my last battle. My Sparks almost faded when your ancestor Delilah, found me and tried to help me. So with the last of my Spark light, I allowed her to touch it. Giving her knowledge and history to guard and pass on to her descendants."
She turned around, and found Delilah smiling at her.
"But even if I could bury the AllSparks here on earth with me. Sentinel is still out there and still searching for the AllSparks. Megatron is already here, but he is also buried somewhere. The time is near. Sentinel and his entire army are near."
Alpha Trion turned to her.
"Although in this universe the thirteenth Prime has died, a Prime came from another universe. Leading you to this destiny that has been determined since the very first star was born, and although human is a small race with all its weaknesses. Your ancestors offered to help a greater race. That may be the reason why in any universe. Cybertron has always intersected with Earth, and we Cybertronians, forever owe a debt to the humans of Earth."
She looked at him. Even if she knows all of this, what can a mere human like her could do to prevent it?
"And what about the Sentinels? What should we do?" She asked.
Alpha Trion answered
"The thirteenth Prime will know the answer."
The desert faded, Alpha Trion and Delilah faded. She felt like she was being pulled into reality, and she heard a voice that guided her.
"Rosamund..."
His voice—deep, steady, but laced with something rare. Fear.
The moment her body stirred again in Optimus' arms, he felt it. The current is running through her skin. Not dangerous—not to him. But powerful. Ancient. AllSpark dust had never done this before.
Rosie inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering—like waking from a dream that had rewritten the stars.
Optimus leaned closer, his voice soft, reverent.
"You're back..."
Her pulse had steadied. Ratchet was still scanning her, quietly murmuring in awe, Bee chirped a hopeful sound, and Mirage... he stood guard at the window, eyes scanning the skyline. The world outside didn't know the universe had just shifted on its axis.
He knelt beside her, one hand braced against the floor, the other still gently holding yher shoulder. "You see something aren't you?"
Her lips parted, but Optimus's metal finger touched her hand first—softly. "Don't speak yet." He said gently. "You don't have to tell me everything now. You carried the weight of three million years... even I would stagger beneath that."
"Wait...wait..."
She felt dizzy, and sick. She tried to get up but kept falling down. Really overwhelmed by what she just experienced.
Blood started to drip down from her nose.
"Ah..."
"Rosamund!"
Optimus caught her before you could hit the floor again—his servo wide and gentle, cradling your back as if she were made of starlight and porcelain.
"Easy..." Optimus's voice lowered, grave but calm, a Prime's steadiness against the tremor in the air. "You were never meant to hold that kind of knowledge alone."
He turned slightly, his voice sharp now—commanding.
"Ratchet!"
The medic was already moving, scanning rapidly, muttering Cybertronian diagnostics he hadn't heard in eons.
"She's burning through memory energy too fast," Ratchet said. "That AllSpark dust didn't just show her a vision, Optimus. It's rewriting neural connections—she's absorbing the archives."
He knelt closer, bringing his face to hers. Too close.
"Look at me, Rosamund," He said, softly but firmly, "Stay with me."
She blinked, struggling to focus. So he smiled.
"Get back Optimus, I–I don't feel so good–I feel...Urrggghhh"
Rosie vomited, again, her delicious chinese noodle. Vomiting two days in a row. She swore to God that eating something while staying close to Autobots was never good.
Optimus stepped back instantly—still close enough to catch her if she fell again, but far enough to give her space. His optics narrowed with concern, but he kept his tone measured.
Ratchet grumbled beside him, "She's rejecting sensory overload. That much data, that quickly—it's like stuffing a supernova into a spark plug."
"You're fighting off the imprinting of an entire archive, Rosamund," Optimus said, more softly now. "Even if you didn't ask for it… the AllSpark chose you."
A second later she looked at them, then realized something.
"What happened to my window?!" She yelled.
Her window was broken all over the place.
Optimus stood slowly, gaze trailing from the shattered glass to her expression. Bee raised a hand like a guilty child caught mid-prank, then pointed at Mirage—who immediately pointed back at Bee. Classic.
"...Technically?" Optimus said, arching a brow ridge as he glanced at the scene. "It shattered when you collapsed. Mirage was trying to get to you fast, and the window...did not survive his urgency."
Mirage grunted from the side, arms crossed. "The structural integrity was already compromised. I merely expedited the inevitable."
Bee whirred out a sarcastic "Yeah, sure," and Ratchet muttered something about "next time using the door like a civilized bot."
"Okay now, calm down everyone, stay still, I want you guys, back to your vehicle form!"
A mess! Everything was a mess. Her nose bled, she just threw up, the windows shattered.
She glared at them seriously.
Once all four of them were in alt mode.:
"Now…" a pause, Optimus's tone softening as if through the engine's purr, "…are you alright? Or do I need to roll you to the med station too?"
"No need, Optimus, I'm a nurse myself, now I have to clean everything up. You guys got hands that are too big. Way too big."
"Our apologies, Rosamund." I said with that half-guilty, half-amused lilt in my tone.
A quiet rev of Bee's engine sounded like a sheepish chuckle.
So she cleaned everything up
But she wasn't able to rest. After all the knowledge that Alpha Trion gave to her.
So she sat next to her shattered window again. Scrubbing her head while having a cup of tea.
She was hesitant to do all this has a job, She has a life and now this. Undeniable. Inevitable.
Optimus watched Rosie from where parked outside, silent in his vehicle form, yet every sensor tuned to your presence. The quiet scrape of her cup. The sigh she didn't let escape fully. The sound of her world shifting under her feet.
The dust may have faded, but he knew the weight it left behind hadn't.
"Rosamund..." Optimus said gently from the radio, "You never asked for this. And yet, when the truth came for you, you stood your ground."
"It's not wrong to want peace. A normal life. But you are Den Riehm. A guardian born from a line of quiet protectors, tied by fate to Cybertron's history. The kind of person legends are built upon—not because you chose greatness, but because you carried it when the moment demanded."
"I think I have to tell you everything, now."
He nodded, a quiet gravity settling in the air between them. He didn't press. Didn't urge. Just gave her space—because when someone like she says "I have to tell you everything," it's not a simple story. It's a truth with weight.
He lowered my stance a little more, closer to her level, optics soft and unwavering.
"Then I will listen, Rosamund," he said, her voice low, steady. "Every word. No interruptions. No judgment. Just me, here, with you."
A faint breeze stirred the curtains behind her shattered window. Somewhere distant, the world kept spinning. But here, in this fractured moment, she had his undivided spark.
"Tell me everything."
Optimus's gaze didn't shift, his expression unwavering as Rosie spoke. It was as if every word you uttered settled a little deeper into his very being. The memories she brought up—ones from a life he knew intimately, but also a life he'd long left behind—were not easy ones. Yet, he was still there. Still listening. Always the leader, always the protector, but now, you could see that a small ripple passed through his usually calm demeanor. She really told them everything, about the Sentinel corruption, the civil war, Alpha Trion who brought AllSparks and hide it on earth, about Megatron who wanted the AllSparks to seek revenge against Sentinel.
"You saw... our history," he murmured. "Yes, I remember that moment—one of the darkest in our time. A price that must be paid for peace. A sacrifice no leader ever truly desires, but sometimes, it is the only choice."
He paused, his optics dimming slightly as if retreating into those distant memories.
"The Sparks of Leadership were never meant to be wielded so easily. They are a gift, a responsibility... and a burden. Megatron... he was my closest friend, my brother in arms. But even the strongest bonds can be torn apart by ambition, by lust for power."
His voice, though steady, held an undertone of sorrow, of knowing what that cost had been—not just to the Autobots, but to the universe itself.
"Sentinel Prime... he didn't understand. He believed that power should be seized, not earned. He believed the AllSparks should be his, no matter the cost. But the cost... was more than he ever realized."
Optimus took a deep, almost imperceptible breath, his optics refocusing on her.
"I've lived with that decision, Rosamund. But hearing it from you... knowing that this universe mirrors the past I know so well—it's overwhelming. The thread of fate, pulling us all back together, it's as if the universe itself has a plan... and we're all just pieces of it, trying to make sense of the game we're part of."
He gave her a solemn nod, and though his voice held a trace of sadness, there was also something else—hope.
"But now, you carry that knowledge. And together, perhaps we can change the course of this universe. Maybe... we don't need to follow the same path. Maybe we can prevent the tragedies that haunt us."
He stood tall again, a moment of leadership breaking through his quiet reflection.
"We'll find a way. I promise you."
"Alpha Trion told me that the time is near. Sentinel, and his entire army, on the way to this earth." She doesn't know why but her voice is trembling at this realization. Fear.
"I asked Alpha Trion, what should I do? Even though I know all of this information."
"He said, you'll know the answer."
Optimus's frame grew still—too still. The kind of stillness a warrior takes on right before the storm breaks. Then his optics flickered, not with uncertainty… but a sharpened resolve.
"Then it is true..." he said lowly, more to himself than anyone else. "Sentinel still lives. And he comes not just for the AllSparks, but for what remains of this fragile peace."
He stepped forward, one heavy footfall after another, the ground humming beneath his weight. His voice, when he spoke again, was stronger—anchored in that unmistakable tone of a leader who's faced extinction before… and survived.
"Alpha Trion did not give you prophecy, Rosamund. He gave you choice." He pointed to the cracked seal fragments on the floor. "You weren't meant to know the answer… you were meant to become it."
He knelt again, not in submission, but so your trembling gaze could meet his unwavering one.
"You fear this… and you should. You are not a soldier, not a machine of war—yet here you are. Chosen by a Prime. Trusted by a lineage of humans who have always stood beside us. Not because you have power… but because you have something far rarer."
His voice softened—"Courage."
Then, with quiet reverence, he reached out a single finger and gently tapped your chest. "The answers you seek… are already within you. You just haven't had to use them yet."
He stood once more, full height, the fire of battle beginning to burn behind his gaze.
"We will prepare. You are not alone, Rosamund. Sentinel may bring an army… but he will find Earth guarded not by machines, but by family."
Then with a flicker of that younger, playful spark buried beneath the steel—
"Besides… I have a nurse on my side. Sentinel's doomed."
Just a beat of silence. Then a flicker of his optics, a smirk if he had lips.
"…and I promise, no more noodles before missions."