#the matrix of Leadership

[lets-try-some-writing]

I woke up and chose angsty violence on everyone.

What if Optimus survived the events of Predacon Rising? Sometime after everyone left, he crawled up from the Well but was no longer the same person he was. Housing the Allspark inside himself had destroyed his mind than just the Matrix of Leadership and what's left is a very feral bot that looks like Optimus.

No one finds out until reports from refugees come in about a strange Cybertronian running amuck in the wastes that attacks anyone who gets too close. Optimus' former team would absolutely be split on what to do about him. Leave him alone in nature under protection, try to snap him out of it or put their once leader down?

They can't ignore the problem as someone will recognize Optimus at some point.

You. You my good individual are evil. I adore your twisted little mind (affectionate).

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

There were... reports. Quite a few of them in fact.

Each and every one of them claimed that there was a feral mech living out in the wastes, the land that was formerly Iacon's great forest before the war razed it to the ground. No one knew what to think of it, but then they saw the pictures. And those pictures changed everything.

"Ratchet, he can't seriously still be alive? Can he?" Bumblebee's voice was filled with disbelief as Ratchet looked over the image projected on the holodisk. The rest of the table seemed to share Bumblebee's thoughts as they watched. It was a quick series of pictures put on a slideshow. They were grainy, but the blue and red was unmistakable. The exposed Matrix even more so.

"It seems that we were wrong to label Prime as out for the count." Bulkhead added his two shanix, earning him a murmur of agreement from an equally uncertain Wheeljack.

"If he's feral, do you think we can bring back?" Arcee spoke up as well, earning a series of comments from the team. Bumblebee seemed hopeful, as did Smokescreen. Even Ultra Magnus seemed marginally interested in a potential plan to help Optimus if he really was out there.

Ratchet was not so optimistic.

"I will go and assess the situation personally. For all we know, it might not be him. We can't get our hopes up." Standing up, Ratchet collected the holodisk with a purposefully blank expression. The team regarded him with various expression of surprise, but they didn't stop him.

Good. They didn't need to see what was going to come next.

"Ratchet, if it is him, you'll let us know." Ultra Magnus put a servo on his shoulder, a knowing expression plastered all over the Commander's face. Ratchet gave no confirmation, instead tightening his grip on the holodisk as he made his way out.

Ratchet couldn't explain it, but when he saw the photo, he couldn't help the feeling of wrongness that filled his very spark. The team wouldn't understand. They hadn't known Orion. All they saw was their Prime's face. They didn't see the vacancy in his optics or the way he hunched in the picture like he was struggling just to stand. The mech they once knew was not himself. He was hardly alive.

Ratchet refused to let his friend's legacy be destroyed by a cruel twist of fate.

"I'm sorry." He murmured into the early morning light as he gathered his things quietly, taking great care with his most important tool as he began the trip out into the wastes. It was not a long trip, not terribly so at any rate. A few joors into his journey, he found himself wandering the wastes in silence, his optics set on any crevice where the husk of his friend could have possibly been hiding. He didn't bother calling out. It was a useless endeavor.

One joor. Two joors. And then, he found what he was looking for.

"Hello, Orion. Its been a while, hasn't it?" A lanky figure pulled itself out of a small cave. Cycled down optics met his, curiosity registering somewhere in their empty stare. Ratchet didn't dare move as the husk pulled itself out of its hiding place, its helm tilted ever so slightly in confusion, or perhaps interest.

"I had hoped that you'd made it out alright. But I don't think that's the case." His words were faint as the husk finally stood. It was thin, gangly from what was likely months of less than sufficient energon. Its armor was cracked and broken, the jetpack that Optimus had once enjoyed now all but ripped off. The husk's face was covered in gashes and marks, the rest of its frame not much better. It looked... pitiful. But above all else, the shining Matrix in its chassis made Ratchet frown.

"No normal mech should be able to survive these wounds." He practically whispered as he took a step forward, holding out a servo in a friendly manner. The husk froze, almost looking ready to scuttle back into its hiding place. But Ratchet remained firm, standing still and speaking quietly.

"That thing... it won't let you die, will it?" He received no verbal answer, but the glowing white of the husk's optics told him everything he needed to know.

White was the color of divinity, but also of sickness. A mech with white optics was said to be doomed to die. Ratchet was not normally a mech to care about superstitions. But that one... he could get behind.

"It must hurt." He couldn't disguise the faint shakiness of his voice as the husk finally inched closer, looming over Ratchet with height that had once been comforting. The husk's optics cycled down and then went wide. A wide and almost sparkling like smile spread across its face as it dropped to all fours, crawling nearer on just about Ratchet's level.

It hesitated a moment, and then pressed its face up against Ratchet's servo like a hound would. Ratchet almost winced, but seeing the husk's genuine affection, he couldn't bring himself to do anything more than sigh and run his free servo along the crest of its helm. So similar to his Prime, and yet so very different.

"The others want to bring you home. They want to fix you." The husk's engine rumbled in delight, pleased as Ratchet caressed broken finials with light touches. The husk looked so very happy as it came closer, seating itself at Ratchet's pedes to lean into every place his digits touched. So unlike Optimus. This thing was a mere echo, a sad and painful echo.

"I don't think you want to be fixed, if that is even possible." His venting hitched as he cupped the husk's face, sensing the animalistic instinct in it. The husk didn't fight back as Ratchet pressed the crest of his helm to the husk's, enjoying the momentary interaction.

"I wanted to hope... I wanted to think that maybe you'd evaded death yet again." He could feel coolant threatening to gather in his optics as he quietly reached to his satchel, pulling out an injector. The yellow liquid within glowed faintly in the dying light of the evening, but Ratchet paid it little mind as he memorized the faint sounds of the husk's engine and the giddy smile upon its face. It hadn't even noticed Ratchet's tool.

"I prayed for your return. But I think that may have been a mistake." Blazing white optics gazed up at him, innocent and yet vacant. It hurt more than it should have.

Why? Why did it have to look so alive and yet so dead?

"Perhaps it would have been kinder if death had finally taken you." Pressing a kiss to the husk's helm crest, Ratchet enjoyed the warmth of a living, venting mech for a moment longer. His spark spun in agony, but now was not the time to stop. This... this was a mercy.

"Rest Orion. Return to Codexa, to Alpha Trion. Go to those who love you... and know that one cycle I will join you there." In one swift motion, Ratchet dug the injector into the husk's neck. Its optics blew wide, its vocalizer spitting static as it stared up at him in sheer terror.

"Shh... it's alright. It will be over soon." The husk went limp, falling into Ratchet's arms. He knelt quietly, letting it rest against his chassis as its frame began to seize. The Matrix flared, sending shocks through the husk to try and keep it active. The husk wailed in response, its shattered vocalizer producing pained cries that could have caused the dead to quake. Ratchet held firm, keeping the husk held against him as the Matrix's shocks ran their course, eventually ceasing.

"I'll tell the others you were dead upon my arrival. Don't worry. They won't see you like this... I promise." The husk spasmed a moment longer, its optics momentarily returning to a bright and healthy blue. For a half klik, Ratchet could have sworn he saw understanding in those optics.

And gratitude.

"I'm sorry, Old Friend." The term of endearment slipped past his derma before he could stop it. In response, Optimus smiled and then fell still, his optics going dark and his frame losing all life.

Ratchet held what remained of his oldest friend for a long while, not speaking or moving.

It was done.

Now Optimus could rest.

[transingthoseformers]

Optimus there are aus where that's considering rather impolite

He didn't even fucking hesitate to crack open his chassis the moment he was asked what the matrix is

It took me a minute to stop wheezing ngl

[loveandscience]

Kind of dig Optimus' lack of belief that The Matrix is a special divine thing, in this series

[sturthepotofmadness]

Huzzah, a gift for Awesomepotato2016 on Ao3 via @secretsolenoid-revived! Enjoy!

[macadam]

Optimus gets a lot more interesting when you subscribe to the headcanon that the matrix falls under the cursed artifact left by ambivalent gods category

[ut-girl666]

Idea: The Matrix, being a parasite that uses the Primes as it’s hosts, slowly turns the Primes into eldritch horror-ific beings, and the forms they hold in front of people to make them appear normal are actually just a ‘cloaked’ form for their ‘true’ form (Maccadam from CV for example). This happens to all the Primes, it just usually takes a long time even by their standards to build up enough, and usually the newer/younger ones are like baby horrors.

Another idea: Rodimus, having been born in the primacy essentially as Optimus’s son, has grown up with them, and seen them in their true forms from a young age. It is now impossible to freak him out with them, because before Hot Rod could walk, he looked Nova dead in the face in it’s true form as it cradled him in it’s arms, and cooed up at it. Optimus now says that to Rodimus, they’re not horrors, they’re eldritch wonders. He genuinely looks at them and believes some to be quite pretty. Or he calmly/casually asks if Op thinks Quintus’s Subnautica octopus ass could fit in a flower vase, because octopuses don’t have bones, and this is long dead ghost, so it’s gotta be possible, right? (Op just wants one normal conversation about the Primes with his son. one. that’s all he asks (while snorting laughs but that’s beside the point-).)

In short: The Primes are eldritch horrors in their true forms + Rodimus isn’t bothered in the slightest about this fact.

[lapisdraws01]

Reminder that my Etsy shop is OPEN! If you're interested in some Transformers stickers, be sure to check it out!!!

https://www.etsy.com/shop/Lapis01

[flipping-the-coin]

[CLASSIFIED: The Final Will and Testament of Optimus Prime]

[Authorization Required: Alpha]

[Document status: Sacred - 87% preserved]

[Listed Authorized Individuals: Primal Steward Ratchet, Head Elite Guardsman Smokescreen, Head Archivist Pax, Chaplain Paradox, General Ultra Magnus, and Earth Diplomate Bumblebee]

[Notice: Those not listed who wish to read this text must speak with Head Archivist Pax to obtain rights to handle this document and present the appropriate qualifications beforehand]

═════════════════

I am Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots and reigning Prime of 47619 vorns and 987 cycles. My authorization code is [REDACTED: CLASSIFIED] and my signature should be listed on this document upon completion. I write this text in the event that I pass without time to expand upon my dying will and wishes.

In the event that I fall and have designated no prior heir or if the proposed heir is found unworthy of the Matrix, Ratchet is to take up the mantle of Primal Steward and watch over the Matrix until a new bearer is found. He is to have the full rights that would be offered to a reigning Prime, including the loyalty of the elite guard to serve as personal protectors and guardians. He has long proven worthy of attending to my greatest of treasures. I have no doubt he will perform well in this role should the need arise...

He is very strong. He will endure without me. I fear for him though. My host is not fond of him, I feel his wrath toward Ratchet in every move and motion. It is a p̴̘͗ä̷̻́i̶̤̍n̵͚̿ I am long used to... but it h̴͎̓̃u̴̼͠r̸̛̘̣t̶̢́s̵͕̯͑̾. I̶ ̸c̸a̶n̴ ̸f̵e̵e̴l̵ ̶i̴t̶ ̵a̸t̷ ̷e̵v̶e̸r̶y̴ ̵m̴o̵m̴e̴n̴t̶ ̵o̷f̸ ̴e̴v̸e̴r̸y̴ ̴c̷y̸c̸l̴e̴,̶ ̶̠̓t̸͙̐h̸̫͛a̴̻̓t̴̜̆ ̴̫̏w̶͉̃r̷͓͗a̵̩͂t̵̞́h̷͇͊ ̴̖͗a̴̧̓n̸̖͊d̸͈͐ ̵̨̈́ẗ̸͎́e̷̜͊r̵̝͒r̸̳̅ǫ̶̑r̶̨͝ ̶̢̐w̵͉͋h̵̘͑ì̸̞c̸̢̈́h̷͎̎ ̵͍̈́ȑ̴̟ä̴̯́c̶̋ͅȅ̶̝s̶͍͛ ̵̱̂ā̶̢c̸̯̐r̵̝͝o̸͖̕s̵̤̃s̶̝̆ ̵̯̍m̵̮͌y̵̡͌ ̵̰̽s̶̪̎p̵̻̉a̴͆ͅr̶̳̆ķ̷̾ ̸͉̈́a̵̱͘n̸̠͝d̵͙͑ ̶̻̏w̷͉͂ŗ̴͗e̷͍̋a̸͉͗k̷̮̚ş̴̽ ̵͖͗ȟ̴̟à̷͔v̸̢̓ȍ̴̻c̵̮̿ ̶̣͗ö̸̯n̶̍͜ ̵̧͛m̸͖͒y̸͈͂ ̵̺͠f̸̩̉ȑ̶̮a̸̳͑m̸̺̑ë̷̘́.̸͈͆ I̷̛̖̖̖͚͐ ̶̛̭̺̆̂͝c̷̨͎̰̄͐̎̓a̸̢͍͕͐ͅn̶̯̭̫̓̎n̵̪̪̚o̴̧̳͊͋̂̆ṱ̶̨̒̀ ̷̯̔͌̿ͅt̸̼̝̘͌͐ẖ̷̢̝̖̋̇͌ḭ̵̖̿̇͒͗ṋ̷̤̺̕͜k̶̼̝̓͗̆.̷̱̱̋͌̊͆.̶̢̻̟̈́.̷̬̦̲͛̚ ̵̼͉̐́̓í̷̥̺͉͜ţ̸̨̬͛̆ ̸̧̱͙̅̓͜H̶̥͖̻̠͛̒̋̂U̵̗͛R̶͓͙̼͍͋̈́̐̓Ţ̶͖͗́S̴͔͑̕.... The guard must watch over him, keep him safe from my host. He must not be harmed. Watch over him, ensure he is well, and heed to his guidance until a new Prime is forged.

The guard... the guard must be restored as well. They are loyal to their Prime. They will ensure the new Prime is watched over until the little one is strong and ready to lead. They will keep the new Prime safe from the woes of the living realm and can help ease the pain when it comes. Perhaps they can ensure the new Prime's host c̴a̴n̷'̷t̷ ̸h̷u̶r̶t̶ ̸t̴h̴e̸m̸ ̸k̵e̵e̶p̴ ̸t̷h̶e̴m̸ ̸f̷r̸o̸m̷ ̴a̴c̶t̴i̶n̴g̵ ̸b̵u̷r̵n̸ ̶t̵h̶e̷i̷r̴ ̸b̵e̵i̸n̴g̵... Smokescreen would be best, he is skilled and has been trained well. If the resources are available, he is to restore the guard to their former glory and alter their functioning as required. So long as they maintain their values and continue to serve, they may be whatever they need to be. I trust Smokescreen in this regard.

My young centurion is dutiful. I trust he will continue to act without my guidance. I wish I could have had more time to train him and to prepare him for what is to come, but I know in my spark that he will perform beyond my expectations. He would be a good vessel I think... no NO D̷O̷N̴'̸T̴ ̴M̷A̴K̴E̵ ̶H̵I̷M̵ ̶A̷ ̵V̴E̸S̸S̵E̴L̴ ̴N̸O̵T̷ ̷H̶I̶M̶ ̸N̶O̴T̷ ̵H̸I̵M̴_̶!̷ No, I do not wish for Smokescreen to bear this burden. If possible the Matrix is to be kept far from him. I will not condemn a sparkling of mine to this torment. Never Smokescreen, NEVER Bumblebee. It will destroy them, the Matrix will take them away and they will be f̴͚͠o̵͕̎r̷̝̚g̷͖͒o̶͉͌t̴͖͂t̵͇͌ē̵͈n̵̝̔. They are pure, clean, innocent... not them, Primus please not them...

This burden is not light... it is a cruel thing to pass to one so kind and innocent. My host was perfect, he was made perfect, but he suffered so that I might come into being. He h̸̩͐ǘ̸̙r̷̪̾t̸̮̓ me, but I do not blame this on him, rather the madness that came from millennia of war. He was, or rather is far too soft sparked. His calls for mercy were something I desperately wished to heed. However when I did, the battles grew worse, the bodies piled higher. It could not be, it was not meant to be. This war, this endless, useless, suffocating war... it was to be. I know this, I know this in my spark it HAD to be. I was forged for this purpose, to fight for Primus and die in his name. I was made for it, it is my singular function. Orion Pax though? No, he was never meant for war. He was to be my teacher, my guide I think. I do not know anymore, its been so long since I last heard the whispers that spoke truth.

He is to go free. If my frame is not destroyed, I will return it to him and in it he may do as he pleases. He may take it, I do not care anymore... I want it all to ë̵̥́n̸͖̄d̷̡̽. I want this to come to a close, for Primus to lift me up from this misery and grant me grace. Can he hear me? I've pleaded for his forgiveness, I've done everything that could be asked of me. I don't understand. W̵͓͗ȟ̸̙y̷̛̩ ̴̡͛w̵̭̋ì̶̥l̵̺̉l̵͈̉ ̷͎́h̶̛̞ë̷͔ ̷̠̈́n̷̺͘o̸̰͘t̸̩̃ ̸̢̐l̴͕̄i̷̜͌s̵̗̍t̴͇͑e̴͔̅ń̷̻?̶̳͑ ̸͇̃F̶̮̿a̴͔̐t̸͈͝h̴̹̀e̵̺͒r̵̳̊,̴̥͛ ̵̭͐p̶̭̚l̶̞̒ȅ̵̝a̷͉͂s̷̩͗ẽ̶̤,̴̫̔ ̵͖͠w̸̟͂h̴͆ͅy̷̜͒ ̶͈̈́w̷̹͊o̴͉̅n̵̡͗'̸͑͜t̸̩͛ ̶͙͋ý̴̝o̴͕̅ṷ̵͝ ̸̦̾l̴̋͜î̵̬s̵̭̈́t̴͙͐è̵͇n̷̢͗?̷̫̏!̷͎̊ Yes, Orion Pax is to be left alone. He has my blessing and can do as he wishes so long as it does not harm the people of Cybertron. Let him speak freely, for I am well aware my voice has drowned out his own since the very beginning. Let him move, for I am certain there is much he wishes to see. Do not impede him in his efforts to heal from these wounds that have befallen him. For that I believe he will need the one who I would prefer perished.

I do not know why he cares so deeply for Megatron. I will never understand. Megatron slaughtered, he hurt our sparkling, he tore our planet apart. I could hear Cybertron weeping. I thought the memories of the Primes were but figments of their imaginations, but they weren't... I could and still can feel my maker's pain. It is quiet now that we are so far from home. But it is present, and amidst this torment it only serves to drive me m̷͓̈a̵̖̿d̴̙̿. So many weeping wails of the fallen... I can't rest easy anymore, in fact, I never have. If my host was not making his opinions clear, I could hear the voices crying out, the creations of Primus demanding justice. Never once was I left with just my thoughts, no, there was always something else... someone else... crying for me to act.

He doesn't deserve this, he doesn't deserve life after all those he has taken. My spark cries out even as I write this... but I will leave the fate of Megatron of Kaon in Orion Pax's capable servos. It will not reverse the damage done... but I have seen the truth while hidden away behind my host. I know what he saw, I know what he believed, and I now know that despite my reservations, so long as Megatron has what he holds dear, he is no threat. Orion Pax will decide. The fate of my greatest foe rests with him, even though I loathe this outcome after all that was done on both Cybertron and Earth...

I could not feel the cries of Earth as I did on Cybertron, but perhaps due to the whispers of my maker, I felt a strange connection to the world. I like to think it was because of the little creatures living there. The small sentients there, the 'humans' as they call themselves... they are so very young. Their entire lives comprise barely a cycle of our lifespans. They are but a passing thing, a fleeting creation bursting with joy and creative nature that our kind have never known. They are so small but capable of so much. Even in their old age, they possess a spark of something that fades within our own kind. There is a certain... hope within them. I have seen it within our young, especially within my little warrior. The hope for something better, the ever present desire to chase it. The humans never lose that desire, but we do.

I lament that. I once held that hope, if only for a brief time. The horrors of reality destroyed that simple pure ideal, and yet the humans never seem to have it fade, even when enduring trials that would make even our kind quake. Almost everything can kill the little things, and yet they fought with us when we required aid. I recall it well despite the fog that has flooded my mind these past few vorns. Jasper Nevada was the name of the settlement closest to us here on Earth. It is such a small place and the humans living there are neither extraordinary or particularly fascinating. Somehow though, three of the little ones within that settlement found their way to us.

The little ones... such sweet things, hardly more than sparklings even by their own people's standards. Even still, they somehow managed to do more for us than even our allies have at times. Miko, Rafael, Jack... all of them so curious and hopeful. They fought so bravely alongside us for the sake of their home. They love their world dearly, especially their small settlement despite its seeming insignificance. Jasper Nevada... even my host found the landscape pleasing for a time. It is very different than Cybertron, too many organic constructs and far too much light. The skies of Cybertron are barely lit even during the bright season. But on Earth? Almost every part of the world is flooded with light for a Joor or more at a time. There was a certain place in Jasper I found pleasing to rest at simply because I could watch the light fade at the end of an earth solar cycle.

Earth is peaceful, it is the cradle of an infant race I feel will one day roam the stars in an attempt to make an empire of their own as we did so long ago. It must be guarded, not only because of the little ones living on its surface, but also because of the evil that rests below. Liaisons must be kept on Earth if possible. They must watch and ensure the humans do not take our technology and turn it to something dark when combined with their machinations. Their world must be observed by a creation of Primus so that should the evil below begin to stir, we might have word.

Bumblebee has shown great love for Earth. He would make a fine tender to it for a time. I do not wish to see him watch the squabble that is to come from whatever faction gains control of Cybertron. He would do well on Earth training younglings in the art of diplomacy and disguise. He has seen the worst our people have to offer as well as the best. He knows how to think rationally and to judge as a Prime would, but unlike me, he understands and feels the pains of others in a way I never could. He will do well creating an organization, of that I am certain. If possible I would have his diplomatic efforts receive a degree of priority. Although I will say that when it comes to earth, I would have our efforts be quiet. MECH has proven that humans cannot be trusted with our technology or biology. Keep given information to the bare necessities. I̶ ̵w̸i̵l̴l̶ ̶n̷o̸t̷ ̶s̴t̸a̸n̵d̷ ̸f̷o̶r̴ ̵P̴r̴i̶m̵u̶s̶'̴s̵ ̸c̷r̸e̵a̶t̸i̶o̴n̶s̸ ̶t̷o̶ ̴b̸e̷ ̴m̵o̴c̷k̷e̸d̵ ̶s̴o̴ ̵o̸p̸e̵n̸l̸y̸.̸

Yes... t̸h̷e̵ ̸c̷h̸i̸l̶d̵r̴e̸n̸ ̴s̵h̵o̵u̶l̴d̵ ̶r̷e̴c̴e̴i̵v̷e̷ ̶s̴o̶m̵e̸ ̷s̴o̵r̶t̶ ̴o̵f̶ ̶r̵e̵w̵a̸r̵d̵ ̶f̵o̷r̷ ̴t̴h̸e̷i̸r̸ ̸e̸f̸f̶o̶r̶t̴s̶. The older veterans... they should receive benefits of some sort for their service. Shanix if they need help getting on their pedes, medical care without fear, therapy, and certain rewards for their service. Those who fight and die in Primus's holy name should be honored. Whatever faction... it is only right they be honored. They should all receive recognition. We- I do not agree with the Decepticons, but there are good mecha among them. Let them receive honors too should it be the Autobots who win this war. If not, I ask that the fallen of my mecha be granted that same treatment.

We cannot forget, never can we forget. It has hurt us too much to lose sight of what we had. We didn't know and so it hurt us. We didn't know. W̶e̸ ̶d̷i̶d̵n̵'̶t̸ ̷k̵n̷o̸w̸ ̸t̵h̷a̵t̵ ̷t̸h̶i̸s̸ ̶h̶o̷s̸t̷ ̴w̴o̸u̸l̴d̵ ̷h̴a̶r̴m̴ ̵u̷s̸.̵ ̷W̷e̶ ̵d̸i̷d̶n̸'̸t̵ ̸k̷n̴o̶w̸ ̵t̷h̸e̵ ̷h̶o̴s̷t̵ ̸w̶a̶s̸ ̸b̶o̵u̸n̸d̴.̵ ̷W̶e̶ ̷D̸I̷D̸N̸'̷T̵ ̷K̴N̴O̷W̷.

Never again. We need to remember... the Archivists must be restored. They must ensure we never forget. They must keep our records safe, of all our people, not just Autobots or Decepticons. It MUST be a priority. The new Prime will need knowledge. The People will need guidance. They will not be able to keep themselves in line until a new Prime is forged without wisdom. Keep the knowledge guarded, but ensure it can be shared. We will not tolerate another unruly offering. The next one must be aware. N̴o̴ ̶n̷o̵ ̴n̵o̷ ̵n̸o̷ ̸N̸O̷ ̷M̶O̴R̸E̷ ̶O̷F̴F̸E̷R̸I̴N̶G̴S̷ ̷I̶T̵ ̷H̸U̷R̶T̷S̸ ̶U̵S̶ ̷D̵O̵ ̵N̸O̵T̴ ̸D̴O̸ ̶T̴H̵I̵S̶ ̸T̵O̵ ̸A̴N̴O̸T̶H̵E̸R̴ ̸P̶L̵E̸A̷S̴E̴-̵!̷

Keep the history, keep the faith. Do not falter. I trust that those I have chosen will honor my wishes, if only in spirit. I pray this will need not be used, but with how this war has progressed and with all that I have learned... I fear there is not much time left. My host is not pleased... it won't be long. If Megatron does not kill me... HE will.

My life was not a happy one. I knew nothing but war and pain. However amidst the agony and torment of living, I caught glimpses of the light.

Stay strong my precious ones. I know you will endure.

[minniethemoocherda]

When I heard this song I immediately thought of Optimus Prime.

[bloodilymerry]

Bird of Prey: The Primes and the Matrix

Like a lot of things about Cybertronian society, the role of a Prime is surprisingly fluid and therefore defining what it is, is not an easy task. Historically, the one constant seems to be that Primes take an active role in a crisis: starting with Prima’s failed rebellion up to the current Prime’s role as the military and political leader of the Autobots. 

However, once the crisis is over, Primes tend to step down, allowing Cybertronians to govern themselves, and take on the role of a teacher and a guide. Guardian Prime’s primacy starts with a decision to remove himself from active governing of Cybertron and assuming an advisory role. Similarly, once the second civil war is over, Sentinel Prime makes a similar choice to remove himself from governing Cybertron and remains reclusive until the rise of Megatron.

Another point of confusion for some humans, is the fact that the role of a Prime is not wholly secular, which leads them to assume they are “robot Pope”, “robot Pontifex Maximus” or a divinely appointed king, none of which are actually all that close to what Primes are. While some Transformers, like the Reversionists, see them as divinely appointed by Primus, this does not mean the same Transformers view them as infallible oracles of Primus and will recognize their authority. Other Transformers may believe in Primus, but don’t see Primes as in any way divinely appointed by Primus.

Specifically, the retiring Prime selects the next Prime. The wisdom contained in the Matrix can steer the choice, but a Prime can select someone whom the Matrix will not support. Such a case would have been Zeta, who may have been a reliable follower of Guardian Prime but lacked the qualities that the Matrix responds to. To receive the Matrix’s support, a Prime must not just be ready to fight a losing battle, they must believe that the fact they are fighting for the right cause means they can win despite that.

To further the confusion, the First Cybertronians are sometimes also referred to as Primes (e.g. Solus Prime or Nexus Prime), despite none of them bearing the Matrix in Cybertronian legends. And if that were not enough, the bot who had been elected as the leader of Cybertronian government after Nova retired and Guardian stepped down assumed the name Nominus Prime.  

The other point of confusion here, which may lead to the “divinely appointed king” comparison, is the fact that Primes carry the Matrix of Leadership. It should be noted that “leadership” is not the same as rulership in this context and seems to shift meaning depending on the political situation on Cybertron. A Prime does not have to rule Cybertron or the Autobots to remain the Prime. Only the Matrix is required, and even that might be completely inactive for a specific Prime.

Compared to human religions, Primes who can use the Matrix are most similar to shamans. Through the Matrix, the Primes have access to the wisdom of their predecessors, something that no other Transformer seems to have. They can access this wisdom by going on a vision quest, in which they will be guided by one or more of their predecessors and receive advice on how to solve a given crisis.

Finally, a Prime’s authority is purely customary. There is no official document that states that a Prime is the head of the Cybertronian government or even the leader of the Autobots. In fact the only Prime whose leadership was uncontested by all Cybertronians would be Prime Nova, her authority derived    from the fact that she was the one who led the Cybertronians to overthrow the Quintessons. 

The Matrix-bearing Primes are:

Primus - the first to wield the Matrix against the Hate Plague

Primon - Cybertronian constructed by the Quintessons early on

Prima - leader of a failed rebellion of military hardware against Quintessons

Prime Nova - leader of a Cybertron-wide rebellion against Quintesson turned explorer. 

Guardian Prime - Nova’s successor

Zeta Prime - Guardian’s follower and the bearer of the Matrix after him. The Matrix did not respond to Zeta, other than guiding her to choose Sentinel

Sentinel Prime - the Prime who won the second Cybertronian civil war

Optimus Prime - the current Prime

First Cybertronians/deities sometimes also referred to as Prime:

Other Cybertronians to use the title Prime, who did not bear the Matrix:

Nominus Prime

The Matrix

The Matrix of Leadership was created by the pre-Quintesson Cybertronians to stop the Hate Plague - a way of converting the wisdom of those who bore it into a weapon. It was then wielded by the first Cybertionian - Primus. 

It was then lost for a time, when Cybertron was taken over by the Quintessons. Eventually, it was found by Quintessons, who decided to find out what it does by putting it into Primon. Once his body was rebuilt, the Matrix was also placed in Prima, and then later in Nova. 

If the Matrix approves of its bearer, it allows them to access the wisdom contained in it. This has two forms: 

Conscious - a Prime can go on a vision quest into the Matrix and pose questions to it. Usually, a guide in the form of one of the previous bearers will appear to act as the conduit.

Unconscious - a Prime has access to the skills of the previous Primes, i.e. Optimus Prime has not only his own combat experience, but also that Prima, Nova and Sentinel, etc.

If the Matrix deems it necessary, it can also make a Prime bigger, stronger and harder to damage. The Primes benefit from the effect to varying degrees: some get a much more obvious boost then the others.

[lets-try-some-writing]

A Brother In Need

A gift for @nova--spark and a partial continuation of this post by her (ft. my fic blurb for it).

Sometimes, when things are dire, the Matrix can tear through the very walls between worlds. It can call out to others, summoning Primes to aid a brother in need.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

Optimus grunted as another shot scorched his armor. The upgrades he’d received were doing nothing against the raging force of nature that was Megatron. A jetpack was useless against a forged flyer. The Magnus hammer, which he’d not so quietly borrowed, was doing slag all do deter his foe.

Being taken prisoner had done nothing to calm Megatron or make him less of a deadly opponent. With Ultra Magnus out of commission, all Optimus could do was try to buy time while the Autobots got themselves organized. The battle had already raged for almost five minutes, a near eternity for Optimus, who, as much as he hated to admit it, was certainly not built for war. He could only hold off for so long, and with no allies en route, he was essentially a sitting duck.

Every dodged attack slowed him down. Each hit he managed to land seemed to bounce right off of the warlord. Even with the Allspark resting within its casing around his neck, providing him with energy he sorely needed, he was still losing. Bit by bit, he was pushed back closer toward civilian regions. It had never gotten this bad, not even on Earth.

“Foolish Prime. You will learn the meaning of suffering for daring to put me in chains.” Megatron flew at him yet again, and all Optimus could do was struggle to keep his frame from overheating as he forced himself to dodge. Unfortunately, Megatron was faster, hitting his jetpack with a well timed strike and finally sending him careening toward the ground. Optimus adjusted mid-fall, slowing his descent and landing on his pedes. However, as he attempted to get back into the skies in the hopes that it would limit civilian casualties, his jetpack failed to function. It puttered uselessly against his back, reminding Optimus again of just how dire things really were.

“I’m not going down without taking you with me!” He taunted his foe, running as far away from housing districts as possible. The Allspark weighed heavily around his neck, thrumming with strange energy he did not understand. It did little to aid him, but its glow reminded Optimus of what he was fighting for. 

Megatron could not win. Not while Optimus still functioned.

“I will strip you of your armor, one plate at a time!” Megatron roared in outrage, landing with a thunderous crash that left Optimus reeling. He clutched the Magnus hammer, not letting himself focus on the faint tremor of his digits as he raised the weapon high. He checked his comms, frantically letting his optics flicker around the area in hopes that someone, anyone, would come to his aid.

He saw and heard nothing. No one was coming. He was alone.

“I’d like to see you try.” He could sense the stress warnings for his servos running across his vision, but Optimus dismissed them. He needed to keep fighting, to buy more time for Sentinel to get things in order as acting Magnus. He doubted his former friend would actually aid him, but if Optimus could do something to give the Autobots a chance, then he would gladly put his life on the line yet again.

He took a deep vent, the world slowing around him as Megatron unsheathed his blade and leapt forward. Optimus distinctly recalled wondering if there would be anything left of his frame once the battle was done as the warlord’s blade met his hammer. 

The shock rattled his entire frame, knocking his shoulder from its socket. He didn’t have time to cry out in pain before he was forced to try and block another hit, then another, and another. He tried to fight back, but every time he tried to land an attack, Megatron’s blade cut through his armor like it was made of tinfoil. He was covered in gashes, each burning as they bled. He stumbled, trying to keep his balance as Megatron smiled, stalking forward and pushing Optimus up against a wall. 

“This is what happens when you play soldier, Optimus Prime. Now, you will die like the disposable pawn you are.” Optimus spit up energon, coughing as he clutched a particularly deep wound with one servo. The Magnus hammer was held weakly up in front of him, his entire arm shaking from the effort as he prepared to block. Part of him hoped that his team would arrive and save his sorry aft. The rest of him was praying for a decently quick and honorable end, perhaps a blaster shot to the spark.

Unfortunately for him, Megatron had other plans.

The warlord swung his blade, sending the Magnus hammer flying away from Optimus’s grasp. He cursed, getting into a combat position despite how battered and tired he was. His vents were flared wide, his fans running on their highest setting as he panted and tried to play hero. Everything ached and burned, his vision flickering from energon loss. But he was not given a chance to even try to preserve his honor as the hilt of Megatron’s blade collided with his helm, knocking him to the ground.

He cried out in pain, no longer able to stifle the agony of his failing frame. He heard Megatron laugh as a kick landed on his abdomen, sending Optimus flying against the wall behind him and leaving him to purge what little he had in his tanks before coughing up energon that had to have come from something internal being ruptured. 

He shook in terror that he could no longer mask as the warlord loomed above him, his towering frame now no longer anything close to the storybook villain Optimus had come to know. He prayed for salvation as Megatron took his time, hitting him again and again and kicking him around like some sort of training dummy. Every hit broke something else, shattering plating or snapping components that were likely vital. 

Optimus tried to be brave. He tried to keep being snarky, if only to buy time. But as he lay utterly beaten amidst the rubble of their battleground, he could only cry while pulling himself into a sitting position. There was nothing he could do now except try to die with a small iota of dignity. 

“Ratchet, Bulkhead, Bumblebee, Sari… I’m sorry I won’t be coming back to all of you.” A choked sob broke through his tortured venting. As Megatron cackled, Optimus touched the container the Allspark still sat within. He prayed in silence, hoping that the phenomenon that gave him life would heed his quiet plea. 

He wasn’t religious. He had no god to worship as the humans did. But he still hoped… that maybe, somehow, the thing that made him would have mercy on his spark.

“Goodbye, Prime.” Megatron’s blaster powered on, sickening purple and flooding Optimus’s vision as he raised his helm in one final act of defiance. If he were to fall, he was going to do so, looking death in the optic. He would not cower, not even in his final moments.

He stared down the blaster barrel, uncaring of how it made his optics flicker due to the brightness. But as he watched his death come closer, he felt warmth emanate from the container around his neck. He dared not look away from Megatron, but as blue light began to drown out the purple, Optimus could only gasp in awe at what occurred mere nano-kliks later.

A shot fired, but it was not Megatron’s blaster putting Optimus six feet under. Instead, bright blue energy impacted Megatron’s armor, scorching his seemingly untouchable plating and earning a cry from the warlord. Optimus gawked, his agony momentarily forgotten as he followed the source of the shot, his optics setting on a figure that towered over even Megatron.

A faint blue figure flickered in and out of existence, becoming more solid with every passing moment. Optimus’s optics widened as the mech stepped forward, his frame setting into reality as he held his arm up, the limb having transformed into a blaster without so much as a klik of hesitation. He stood proudly, his armor battered and scarred but still strong. His shoulders were sharp, and an autobot badge stood out clearly amidst the scratches and dents. His legs were long and built for combat; his waist was thin but his torso was heavily armored. A crack ran along his windshields, but it seemed to mean nothing for the mech who stood so powerfully on the battlefield.

Optimus watched in complete awe as the mech stalked forward, a battlemask firmly in place on his face as he fired shot after shot at Megatron. With grace that Optimus had never seen in anyone before, the mech strode forward, breaking into a steady run as his arms turned from guns to blades. In an instant, the mech, who looked so much like Optimus in color and overall design, met Megatron in combat. Their blades sparked, their grunts of exertion echoed across the battlefield.

Megatron tried to push back, but the mech was swift with his blades, cutting through Megatron’s defenses and slashing his armor clean open with rapid movements. Megatron stumbled back, screaming a curse in a language Optimus did not know. The mech, his counterpart, responded in kind with a quick kick to the chassis, sending the warlord sprawling after a pitifully short fight. It seemed that despite his failure to bring down his foe, Optimus had indeed tired him enough so that his counterpart had little issue bringing him to his knees.

A smug part of his spark flared in glee at the revelation.

“Serves you right, you glitch.” He raised a middle finger in Megatron’s direction as Autobots finally appeared in the distance. His counterpart knocked Megatron upside the helm, forcing the Decepticon leader into temporary recharge. Then, without a second thought, he came to kneel before Optimus, his battlemask slipping away.

“I apologize for failing to assist you sooner, little brother. The call of the Matrix can be slow at times.” Optimus carefully reset his optics, but the scene did not change as his counterpart tenderly picked him up as if he were but a newbuild. The Allspark pulsed against his chassis in response.

“It seems your reality has different rules than mine, but you need not fear. We are one and the same, merely separated by time and a barrier between worlds.” The other mech, the other Optimus, smiled in a soft manner before holding Optimus close. He coughed weakly, the pain slowly overwhelming his senses as his counterpart held him close. He wanted to speak, to ask who this mech really was.

But he found his questions answered as the other Optimus carried him to his team, passing him off to a very worried Ratchet. He stared, still in shock, as the other Prime began to flicker and fade, his existence starting to vanish like smoke.

“Rest well, young Prime. May Primus light your path.” With those final words, the other Prime disappeared as if he’d never been there in the first place. Megatron was bound and carted off, Ratchet strapped him to a gurney and rushed to get him hooked up to an IV. All the while, Optimus stared up at the sky uselessly.

He didn’t know how or why, but through the thing that hung around his neck, Optimus had been saved by another version of himself. A mech who carried his name, his burden, and his rank.

He’d had his life preserved by a brother.

[transingthoseformers]

Jumper cable guy, again!

- No particular continuity in mind, but I've really only seen G1 and read a variety of fics

- The jumper cables idea comes from the fact that all of the fanon sex descriptions focus on *charge* and nodes that pick up electricity, AND physical stimulation, with the charge having more focus. Therefore, a properly sized dildo made from an *insulator* (not conductive) would be mostly unsatisfying, while conductive materials (metal, including other cybertronians, some organic substances, etc) and things that are actually electrified would make potentially good sex tools.

- The fic is an excuse to link together weird sex scenes via dreamsharing between OP and Megatron. This is caused by the Matrix trying to be a matchmaker and end the war. The plan is to start just by inserting sex into real memories and getting more unrealistic as it incorporates their fantasies. Probably too ambitious, lmao

That makes a lot of sense, and now I'm imagining that insulating materials could be useful in keeping mecha from overloading and edging and stuff. Probably.

Also OOO??? DREAMSHARING SEX DREAMS??? THE MATRIX MEDDLING IN MEGOP? Yesss

[shychangling]

Uuuhg. I am thinking about the Matrix doubling as some kind of mystic medical aid again.

The way it pushes down anxiety and fears. The way Optimus (at least from my observations in the UT) is so much more unleashed and hurt without it

It is NOT meant to be an aid. But as things go by it may end up a comfort item in the chest. (lord knows how much I wish i had something weighted around my soul when I get overwhelmed or underwhelmed)

The Wisdom procured channeling through your unique views and traumas... I wish I could elaborate more but I have just woken up and am putting this all down as I think clearest.

But basicaly the Mystic Medical Aid|Connector to Primus is a basic steeple in all my works.

[apocryphage06]

"Freedom is the right of all sentient beings!"

[aggressivedaikons]

Optimus Prime (TFP) Matrix HC: Even though the Matrix of Leadership does allow him to be much wiser and have a lore more insight, due to the combined wisdom of the original thirteen Primes being contained within, it also is somewhat of a burden for him mentally.

Due to the fact it does possess so much knowledge and wisdom, it surely has so know just as much about the terrible and gut-wrenching things as anything else. So I think that Optimus would sometimes have dissociative flashbacks to events he never was present for, or have overwhelming intrusive thoughts about violence. Not in the “what if I hurt somthing” (the traditional type) but more of a “here’s an extremely graphic and nauseating thought you won’t be able to escape”.

He sometimes has episodes where he just goes completely silent, and nobody but Ratchet knows. It’s something he keeps secret so the others don’t worry about him, but sometimes he has to go on recon or other things during these episodes, and he goes nonverbal. The rest of Team Prime just wave it off as him being angsty and moody, but Ratchet tries his best to give Optimus space and to lighten his load.

He usually gets hazy visions of different awful scenes, sometimes real, sometimes a memory from the era of the primes, sometimes a graphic hypothetical. But he can’t really fight it, and any time he tries not to think of it, his mind just leads him back to these uncomfortable and unwanted thoughts.

[lapisdraws01]

I have officially opened an Etsy shop where I am starting off with selling Pride Matrix stickers! Link to my shop below!

Click HERE to order!