Chapter Thirty-Five: Heavenly Fire

After changing into ordinary tourist clothes, Wang Jing returned once again to the Transformers universe. Taking advantage of the guards’ inattention, he left Hoover Dam, brought Bumblebee over from the Prime Universe, and then headed for the nearest hospital. Entering the building, he found an empty patient room at random, placed the Director of Sector Seven—whose entire body was encased in plaster—onto the hospital bed, and left without looking back.

Finding a secluded spot, Wang Jing teleported over the negotiation team of more than a hundred people. These teams would travel to various countries, make contact with their leaders, and establish friendly, cooperative relationships. To gain trust and demonstrate goodwill, each team brought along technical documentation for a powered exoskeleton and a trade contract.

Just like the agreement between the Prime Universe and the Wandering Earth, it was a barter: technology in exchange for food. Supplying two worlds simultaneously was taxing for the Prime Universe, but the peaceful Transformers universe was an excellent way to relieve some of the strain.

In 2008-level technology, exoskeleton armor was as remarkable to them as alien technology. With the negotiation teams in place, Wang Jing and Bumblebee arrived at the United States Space Museum.

“All right, Bumblebee, stay here and be good. I’ll be back soon,” Wang Jing said to Bumblebee, who was parked in a car space.

“Yes, Captain!”

“When we get back, I’ll have the research department take a good look at your voice system!” Wang Jing said, listening to the reply coming through the radio.

Disguised as a tourist, Wang Jing entered the museum. After waiting in the restroom until closing time, he and the teleported Li Xian, Liu Peiqiang, and Wang Lei tranquilized all the security guards, then made their way to the main hall, where the SR-71 Blackbird was displayed.

“This is Jetfire!” Liu Peiqiang sighed in awe, running his hand along the jet’s sleek, black fuselage.

“That’s right. Go find a power cable and get ready for teleportation!” Wang Jing urged.

They quickly found a cable and connected it, but with only 110 volts and the Blackbird weighing over 30 tons, it would take several minutes to charge up.

Five minutes later, Wang Jing and his team found themselves in a temporary base in the Sahara Desert of the Prime Universe.

“Wang Jing, are you sure Jetfire has defected to the Autobots?” Optimus Prime asked from the side, concern in his voice.

“I’m certain. And even if he hasn’t changed sides, you’re all here, aren’t you?” Wang Jing replied, bringing Bumblebee over as well.

To ensure safety, the perimeter of the temporary base was ringed with anti-air missiles, and Bumblebee, Ironhide, and other Autobots stood guard, ready to respond to any unforeseen events.

With everything in place, Optimus Prime approached Jetfire’s resting form, holding the AllSpark. Gently, he touched one corner of the AllSpark to the jet’s black fuselage. A surge of electrical arcs spread across the entire plane.

Immediately, the jet began to move, gears groaning and metal scraping as it transformed—sparks flying, every sound betraying the stress of age. An elderly, grumbling cough emanated from the ancient frame.

“Where am I? Am I seeing things?” Jetfire muttered.

“Oh my goodness, I must still be dreaming—Optimus Prime? Cough, cough!” Jetfire sputtered, ejecting a handful of spare parts in his excitement.

“I think this old fellow’s about to fall apart,” Jazz whispered to Bumblebee, who nodded his agreement.

“Hey! Watch your mouths, you little punks. Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I can’t hear you. I’m a reconnaissance jet, after all—and this is my dream; I know everything you’re saying.”

Jetfire glanced shakily around the room. Spotting Wang Jing and the others, he grumbled, “Ah, you little creatures again. I must really be ancient.”

“Jetfire, you’re not dreaming,” Optimus Prime said, stepping forward.

“Not dreaming?” Jetfire asked in confusion.

“That’s right.”

“Impossible,” Jetfire replied, waving him off. “If you were really Optimus Prime, you’d have blasted me to bits already. In your eyes, I’m a Decepticon, and Autobots and Decepticons are sworn enemies.”

“The Cybertronian civil war ended long ago. The Decepticons have won—but I heard you defected to us,” Optimus explained.

“Ah, I knew it!” Jetfire stamped his cane in frustration. “But it doesn’t matter. The Autobots may still have a chance. The Fallen sent me to Earth to find something—a key, I think.”

“The Matrix of Power, or rather, the Leadership Matrix—the Leadership Module!”

“That’s it, exactly,” Jetfire said, turning to Wang Jing. “How do you know all this? That information is top secret.”

“I know more than that. I also know that the Fallen wants to blow up the sun for energy!” Wang Jing replied.

“Exactly! That’s why he’s come to Earth. Normally, we never destroy stars that harbor life,” Jetfire explained.

“But the Fallen broke that rule. He built a device on Earth to destroy the sun and harvest its energy. You have no idea how important energy is!”

“Without energy, you end up like me—my blasted backside, all rusty and itchy.”

Jetfire rambled off topic, scratching at his rear with a clang, rusted parts flaking off and falling into the sand.

“All right, all right. Honestly, I know everything you’re trying to say. I even know the seven elders hid the Matrix in Egypt,” Wang Jing said impatiently.

“Show some respect, boy. I’ve lived for thousands of years—when your ancestors were still clubbing their food, we were already here on Earth!” Jetfire retorted, pointing angrily at Wang Jing.

At that moment, Jetfire’s drag chute suddenly deployed, catching the wind and yanking him backward. Only Optimus Prime’s quick reflexes kept Jetfire from toppling over.

“Sir, perhaps you should rest. Leave the rest to us,” Optimus said, steadying Jetfire.

“I’m old. The future belongs to you now,” Jetfire said with a hint of melancholy.

“Don’t say that. If you were truly useless, we wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to bring you here. You’re just low on energy. As it happens, we have exactly what you need,” Wang Jing said, signaling to Optimus.

Optimus nodded, produced the AllSpark, and handed it to Jetfire. The moment Jetfire saw it, energy sparked excitedly across his frame. As he absorbed the AllSpark’s power, his stooped figure straightened, and his rusted body restored itself before their eyes, returning to a pristine, gleaming state.

“Ahahaha! The feeling of strength returning—like being thousands of years younger!” Jetfire exclaimed, throwing his head back in laughter.

Then, looking down at the AllSpark in his hands, ancient Cybertronian runes etched into its surface, Jetfire hesitated. “If it had never been lost, perhaps things would be very different now,” he sighed, handing the AllSpark back to Optimus Prime.

Witnessing this, the surrounding Autobots and the assembled military breathed a collective sigh of relief. The AllSpark was a great temptation for any Transformer, but for one worn down by ages like Jetfire, its allure was nearly irresistible.