A/N: So I have finally gotten this ambitious story of mine off the ground. This is, my dear readers, the first story in what I am currently dubbing the "TWO WORLDS, ONE FATE" storyline. An extremely AU retelling of the Transformers mythology from before the Great War, to its end, with an added twist: We, humans, are there from the beginning. I hope you'll all enjoy this, and join me on what is probably going to be a longgggg journey!

Okay, so when I say this fic is an EXTREME AU, I really do mean it. So let me go ahead and fill you in on what's important:

1. Cybertronians and Humans have lived together for years now. They live between Cybertron and Earth, and the war between Autobots and Decepticons is waged by both human and Autobot members of the faction. So the whole history of the war is somewhat changed.

2. Unlike most fics where Cybertronians age by vorns, here they will age just like humans, for the sake of the story I want to tell. But their lifespan WILL be greater than humans none-the-less.

3. Again, for the sake of this fic, the war takes place before Orion is Optimus and Megatronus is Megatron. Just to clarify.

4. Much like my fic "A Whole New World" humans can live on Cybertron due to alterations to its atmosphere.

5. At this point in the story: Prowl is not second-in-command or head tactician yet. Optimus is already Prime, but only for fourteen years. And the war has been happening for fifteen years.

This takes place near the end of the first (unreleased) story of the timeline I am slowly building. So expect to see younger versions of all of the characters you know and love. My use of a Prowl story to kick off this hopefully "universe" is a way for apologizing for the untimely demise of the "Jeffrey Devlin" stories. It may be a bit of a soft reboot but this is mostly based on an RPG storyline I had a looonnggggg time ago.

PAIRINGS: Mentions of Optimus PrimexElita One and IronhidexChromia, but mostly, this story has no real pairings.

WARNINGS: This story deals with darker themes such as child abuse, slavery, and child soldiers. Just a fair warning.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Transformers. Only my OCs. Everything else belongs to Hasbro and Takara.

So without further ado, let's get this story started!

...
PROLOGUE
The Child Soldier

Jacob Conners felt weak at the knees as he looked up at his handler.

That was what they'd called the mech that had trained and conditioned him the last nine years. His handler, his trainer... They might have thrown his "master" in there but at the end of the day, they all had only one master: Lord Megatron. Jake remembered that mech well, from the first day he'd been snatched as a four-year-old street urchin from the streets of Praxus and carted to the Decepticon base with another dozen or so children, human and Cybertronian.

They'd been exactly what the Decepticons wanted; all young, friendless, family-less, kids that the Autobots would never see coming. Not until they'd stolen the secrets that Megatron wanted them to take. Not in time to see that the Decepticons had used the future generation, the very thing they were fighting to protect, against them.

At least, that was the vision Megatron had for them. What was expected of them, what they were trained for. And failure, like it or not, was not an option.

He remembered all of this as crimson blood cascaded down his lips. His bruised blue eyes flicked from the tall, black-armored form of his handler, then to the man that had issued the beating. He wore the uniform of a military private. Brown eyes met Jake's own, taking in the red that now caked his dark blonde hair.

"Hit him again." His handler replied.

"Sir, he's barely breathing."

"I said hit him again. From where I'm standing he's still on his two feet. I want the Autobots to think they're saving him from the brink of death." The mech, Stratos, as he was called, snapped.

The man seemed to waver in his composure, looking unsure. "Sir, if I beat him more, he could end up dead."

"Just hit me."

Jake looked at the man, who he knew was trying to protect him. He didn't want that though. He couldn't want that. If the man didn't do his job, they'd kill him. They'd kill him, and then they'd bring in someone colder to do the job of making Jake look the part.

"Jake..." The man's voice caught in his throat.

Jake looked at Benny once again. The man had been one of the older spies taken with him, which was what had made the whole thing so messed up. They'd grown up together, even though Benny was already nearing his twenties now. And here he was, being forced to make his best friend look the part of someone the Autobots would rescue. After all, that was his story, or at least the one they gave him.

He had been trapped in a smoldering building. Decepticon humans had attacked, and he'd tried, in vain to fight them off. Since they had specifically targeted him (for reasons he wouldn't provide, and would claim not to know), they'd beaten him until he was near death. Then left him there in the rubble—the same rubble they all stood in now, of a small city just outside of Iacon.

The Autobots would take him back to base, as planned. They'd nurse him back to health, and ultimately, give him protection. And that's how he'd get the information: earn their trust, infiltrate their files, learn their secrets.

"Benny, look at me." The man got a hold of himself, staring at Jake as he asked. "They're going to be here soon, Benny. I need to be ready... Please. Just do it."

Benny's own handler, Pritcher, stood to the side, watching his charge quietly. Jake knew what would happen if he didn't do what he was told. Benny would die. He'd seen it happen to so many of them. The kids would get too scared; they'd refuse to do things, they'd fight back... And they'd be killed. Because a child that wasn't compliant was no good to the cause.

Lucky for them both, Benny knew better. This time, when the punch landed, Jake felt lightheaded. His body wracked with pain as he cried out, his eyes watering.

"AGAIN! He's still awake!" This time it was Pritcher chiding him on.

That time, Benny must have succeeded, because darkness enveloped Jake faster than anticipated. And in darkness, he laid without movement or sound. His mind raced with thoughts, wondering what would happen. Would the Autobots even find him? If they didn't, would the Decepticons care enough to come back? They had so many kids back at their base trained for the same thing Jake was. If he was gone, he had a feeling no one would notice or care.

That was the scariest thing about laying in the dark: not knowing.

Hours seemed to go by before he became aware of the voices. Or for that matter, of a mask being pulled over his mouth. He could faintly hear the words "pulse" and "emergency". And he could feel a pair of fingers being gently pressed against his neck as if to make sure there even was a pulse. They must have beat him more after he'd been knocked out, Jake figured, enough that he looked like he was dying.

He forced his eyes open in slits; barely managing to get a blurred visual. An older looking, red and white mech hovered over him, blue optics focusing squarely upon him. "Primus, he's awake. Hello, young one can you hear me?"

Jake nodded weakly.

"Good! It's gonna be alright, we're taking you to a hospital where you'll be taken care of. But I'm going to need you to try and stay with me."

Jake found that breathing was becoming easier, but still coughed and wheezed as he tried to speak. They'd done one hell of a number on him, that was for sure. Good, he figured; they'd probably feed Benny more today.

"Don't try to talk. Just nod if you understand." The mech said. Jake nodded once. "Good. My name's Ratchet, I'm a medic with the Autobots." Again, a nod. "Can you tell me if you were the only one alive there?"

Jake nodded, knowing that for sure. He'd watched the Decepticons gun down everyone in the building they'd placed him in themselves. They'd made sure there were no survivors that could recognize Jake as being with them.

"Ratchet, his vitals are really weak. Keep him from moving too much." Another medic shouted.

"I'm trying to get answers, fraggit! He's one of the few people to survive this raid!"

But he'd get no more from Jake, who could barely hear anything anymore. His mind raced. Just how badly had they beat him? Why couldn't he even move? Why would they do this to him? He pulled himself from those thoughts as the haze came over him. That wasn't his place to question. He was property, not someone important. He simply needed to give in, to play the part.

He had to keep himself alive, or his whole, meaningless life would truly be for nothing.

...

He came to again in a hospital berth.

Jake could tell that from how soft the cushions of the bed were. At the Decepticon base the twelve-year-old had been raised on, he'd been given cold, hard metal to sleep on. Nothing so soft, or comforting was ever afforded to those who were there. Only a small, barred cell, and a cold metal slab with blankets. They were treated like the hardened soldiers they were being raised to be. The comforts of home were nothing more than a myth that people made up.

He could feel the stitches on the side of his head, and the cast on his arm. But most of all, he felt the brunt of the pain inflicted on him previously in full force now.

"You're sure that this is one of them?" Jake could hear from outside his door, his ears perking up. "He said teenagers... I didn't think they meant kids THAT young."

"They didn't think we'd be looking for bar codes on child survivors." Another, rougher voice spoke. "The boy undeniably belongs to that program we've heard about from Punch. And if the way they left him is anything to go by for the condition of the others..."

"The drones saw an adult male beating him down. It looked like the 'Cons were egging him on, too."

"This really is one bit of intel I wish we were wrong about."

"And I thought he was just a survivor of the raid..."

Jake tried to comprehend it, what were they talking about? Did they already know? No! No! No! He couldn't have already failed! They'd put so much cover-up on his bar code; the Autobots couldn't have seen it, could they? He tried, weak though he was, to pull himself from the bed but quickly found his efforts fruitless. Even the smallest of movements sent pain through him like scorching fire.

"Slaggit, don't move!"

Jake immediately had two fingers gently pushing on his body. Not to hurt him, as giant fingers usually tried to, but rather to restrain him.

"Let me go! Let me go! Stop! I'm not who they think I am! I'm not!" Jake thrashed.

There was a pause as the still-unseen owner of the fingers spoke up. There was a very gentle, but none-the-less stern nature to his voice. "Your name is Jacob Conners. You've been missing since you were four years old from your foster home. Up until now, we believed you were living on the streets." Jake tried to get words out, but they all fumbled over each other. "It's alright, Jacob. We know everything about the program... You're just the first proof we have of it existing."

Jake felt as the fingers were removed from his body. Now, he could see the mech who'd done it. He was tall and mostly white and black, with a red chevron and doorwings that suggested he was Praxian. He was young, probably somewhere in his late twenties. The Enforcer logos on his wings suggested he had once been an officer. The Autobot logo on his chest being the only indication this was no longer the case.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Jake finally managed to say.

The Praxian was silent for a moment before shaking his head. "Jacob, it's alright. We know everything and you're not in trouble. Even with the Decepticons. We removed the tracker they embedded into your skin." He explained. "And unlike originally intended, we did not take you to Iacon. The mechs who took you from the streets have no idea where you are."

Panic set in. Jake's handler didn't know where he was? He was going to be angry. He was going to be so angry—what's more when he did find Jake, he'd suspect the worst. Abandonment to the cause, abandonment of him. He'd take him to Lord Megatron for execution! "No... No! NONONONO!" Jake snapped. "They have to know where I am! If they don't they'll kill me. They'll find me and they'll kill me!"

"Not going to happen. We'd have to give you over to them and that is an illogical and immoral choice." The mech spoke honestly, his optics softening. "I know that you've been taught to trust them. But you said it yourself, they are of the mindset to kill you."

"I deserted the cause!"

"You're thirteen years old, you shouldn't be fighting for a cause." The Praxian paused a moment, looking upon the terrified face of the boy. "Maybe I should introduce myself. My name's Prowl, I'm a former Enforcer in Praxis and current tactician in—"

"I don't care! Let me go! If you let me go now, they'll forgive me!"

Primus, Prowl couldn't believe what he was hearing. Most kids would beg to be let go from the Decepticons; this boy was begging to be taken back. Just what had they been putting into his brain the last nine years? What threats had they made? "Jacob, look into my optics. Even if I let you leave here, they'd never let you live now that you're no longer their asset. We both are logical enough people to know that." Jake stammered over his words. "Please, calm down, and let us help you."

Jake looked at the mech with the darkest face of dread Prowl had ever seen. "You're killing me."

"No, we're saving you." Prowl replied as the door slid open. "If that isn't Ratchet, you may want to get him in here. The kid's putting up a fight."

Jake could see the mech that he'd heard called Ratchet before making his way forward. The red and white colored medic watched him, as he tried, despite the pain, to get off the bed. "Figures he'd put up a fight. You didn't think after all this time he'd be brainwashed?" Ratchet questioned sharply to Prowl, then stared over at a human assistant. "Give him a mild sedative. The one usually marked for these situations."

Jake really began fighting at that. He yanked at the IV drip chord and pulled at the bedding. He even fought as Prowl put his two fingers on him again. Ratchet used straps to pin him down, though keeping his injured arm elevated.

"I'm sorry to do this to you, youngling. But you were horribly injured." Jake stared over frantically as a needle poked into the IV drip, and the sedative was pushed in. "We don't want you to hurt yourself."

Jake could feel the dark coming again, but this time, it was almost beckoning him. No, NO! He couldn't be taken by the dark... They were dooming him. They'd... They'd... His last thoughts drifted off to sleep the same as he did.

"Primus almighty... Whatever they did to that kid... It really did a number on him. You'd have thought I'd tried to kill him." Prowl mused darkly.

Ratchet shook his head silently. "You read the report same as we all did. These kids are supposed to be specially conditioned... Of course they conditioned them with fear." Ratchet grunted back. "And this is just one example. He couldn't have been the youngest there."

Prowl was silent as he watched the now-unconscious form of Jacob Conners. He could only imagine now what these children were going through. They'd had no idea what to truly expect, no matter what Ratchet said. Punch had barely heard any murmurs on the subject. Only something about an underground trafficking ring, going around and snatching creatorless sparklings, human and Cybertronian. Turning them into soldiers, spies, anything that served Megatron's purpose.

And now, for the first time, they had one. And it was clear that these children, even after years in their situation, weren't even doing it out of blind loyalty. No, they were being terrified into submission.

The thought of it utterly sickened Prowl.

"You can go now, Prowl. Optimus is asking for an update. I need to work on him more." Ratchet nodded his head slightly, his optics turning to look at the door. "He's on the video com, and has only a few hours. So I'd suggest you do so rather quickly."

Prowl's optics lingered on the boy for a long moment. He didn't want to leave his side, not with how much of a nightmare that was. This boy was going to need all the help he could take. And since Prowl was known for being one of the calmer mechs, he could imagine it was a good idea that he help here. "I'll be back. We can try this again when he wakes up." Prowl replied, starting for the door.

Ratchet shot him a look that already told him that wouldn't be happening. "It's clear he needs as few faces around him as possible right now. I'll take it from here, Prowl. You can visit in normal visiting hours if you must, but I suggest waiting until I've at least convinced him the Decepticons cannot find him here." He explained. "After all, I take it you regretted to inform him he's in a hidden, underground base."

"I don't think he'd listen to me if I had. Hopefully he will listen to you."

And with that, Prowl left, eeminding himself mentally to return again when Ratchet permitted it. After all, it was true that now was probably not the best time. But all the same, he still kept that feeling. This boy, Jacob, was so far gone that he'd need all the help he could get.

And even then, Prowl worried whether or not they'd be able to provide it.

...

A/N: And there's the prologue! I hope you guys enjoyed it. I have been trying to get it done for soooooo long now so I hope it works out well.

On a side note: A Window Into the Past is sadly on-hold. Muse is just being a pain in the butt and I needed to do this for my sanity.