chapter 2: Sam Witwicky

Four-year-old Sam Witwicky was sitting cross-legged on the living room floor with a riotous collection of plastic dinosaurs scattered in front of him. His father bustled around in the kitchen, while his mother hummed softly to herself as she washed the dishes. As Sam concentrated on making his very own prehistoric battleground, making "roar" noises softly under his breath, something inexplicable washed over him.

It was as if a secret door had swung open inside his head, and in a deluge, a river of memories poured in, mingling with his current thoughts. In vivid detail, the images of a life he had lived as Alex, full of late nights and quiet suburbs, bent over programming textbooks and watching different types of media whether it be anime, marvel, dc and transformers sped by him. In a single heartbeat, an entire life's worth of memories opened up to him, memories of Alex, the young man enthralled by fantastic worlds, who had always felt that there should be something more.

Stunned, he stared at his little hands, curling and uncurling his slender fingers as his brain struggled to catch up. He realized now he was no longer Alex; Alex was gone. But Sam…Sam was alive, burning bright, and those memories were his.

It faded slowly, a strange sensation, and bathed him in an odd, yet comforting clarity: Alex's memories, his lived life, the hopes he had once held dear everything was tucked inside of Sam's head.

Yet, for whatever reason, they did not drown him. It did not feel like he was intruding into someone else's life. As a matter of fact, it felt as if he had always been Sam Witwicky. As if he had always lived in this house with his doting parents who loved him and catered to his every whim.

The flood of memories didn't stop there. Sam's memories over the last four years began to unravel like a delicate movie and meshed perfectly with Alex's. He remembered birthday parties he had, and all the fun he had in the park and especially when his dad was teaching him to ride a small red tricycle in the driveway. He could even reproduce how his father did funny voices to make him laugh and also feel the warmth he got every night from his mother before going to bed.

There was a gentle cognition washing over him as he absorbed all of this. The one who had granted those three wishes to him must have known he would not have wanted to have started from the very beginning, vulnerable as an infant. More likely, they had chosen to let the memories of his past life gradually resurface as he grew old enough to understand their significance. The gift now appeared to have been a kind one, preparing him without letting him feel like an outsider in his life.

"Wow…", he thought, a thrill of excitement bubbling up within him. No longer was he simply Sam Witwicky; he now was Sam enriched by the experience of Alex's past life with him. And in that knowledge, he felt ready like never before to seize the opportunity of this new life. He had so much in front of him: he had time, knowledge, and most importantly, an advantage.

Knowing what lay ahead in this world, the major events that would shape it, Sam realized he could be better, smarter, and stronger than he'd ever dreamed.

But he couldn't deny the truth of this world. The future he knew wasn't set in stone. The "butterfly effect"-one small change causing massive shifts-was real. Even the smallest of actions now could ripple through the years, altering the course of what he knew to be the Transformers timeline. But instead of fearing that, the idea only excited him more.

He remembered wanting Tony Stark's mind. Memories bubbled to the surface, bright and accessible, but without the weight of emotional freight that Tony carried. He was thinking more logically now, surveying his surroundings with a clarity and exactitude that had never been his before. This kind of intelligence could remake him into an analyzer, a tactician, a Sam Witwicky who would take down any complicated problem with confidence and panache. Looking ahead, Sam was ready. Whatever this world might throw at him, he would be prepared, and he knew it was much more than just living; it was about thriving.

a few years later ...

In the privacy of his bedroom, Sam stared at his reflection. 6 years had passed since he had initially become aware of his former life. The reflection staring back at him was that of a lean and well built 12 year old boy but in actual fact Sam was just 10 years old or so it would seem to an outsider. But beneath the surface, Sam was anything but typical. Those experiences, combined with his intelligence and the things he had wished for, propelled him in a direction that was beyond his wildest dreams.

A soft tinkle sounded in his room. "Master Sam, breakfast is ready," a polite voice informed him. "Your mother would like you to come downstairs.

Sam smiled. "Thanks, Alfred. I'll be down soon."

Alfred was more than just a voice, he was an AI that Sam had created with his own hands, months of research and application. Just thinking about him, Alfred, brought a deep sense of pride. Six years had flown by, and the progress he'd made had been extraordinary. Once his memories resurfaced, he swiftly came to understand that his intellect ,thanks to Tony Stark's formidable IQ, exceeded that of any typical child. His photographic memory enabled him to grasp and hold onto new information with astonishing speed. This revelation brought him to a pivotal choice, he decided to disclose his intelligence to his parents. His trust in them was unwavering, and his love for them ran deep. As he unveiled his capabilities, their joy and support were beyond compare. His parents referred to him as their little genius and fully encouraged his efforts.

And so, with their approval, Sam's plans began to roll. He asked his parents to enroll him in martial arts, knowing he would need physical strength and discipline to better protect himself and his family . The moment he stepped into his first dojo, he knew something was different. Every move, every stance, came to him naturally, like second nature. In weeks, his progress was shocking to his teachers. He even entered a few tournaments and won several. His instructors often commented on how he was almost born for this sort of thing. His unique body peak human in strength, agility, and resilience allowed him to excel with no effort ,a physical gift he would have all his life.

He didn't stop there. His afternoons were usually spent in libraries devouring books on biology, chemistry, physics, and engineering. He moved through the worlds of computer science and programming with incredible ease, funneling his expertise into the creation of new software and gadgets. Sometimes, it hit him as almost scary to realize just how "broken" Tony Stark's mind really was; it was like every scrap of information he learned increased his grasp, creating a feedback loop that sent him soaring ever higher. Within years, he was operating at an intellectual level beyond any PhD, all while continuing to live the life of a normal kid on the outside.

Among his biggest achievements in the last six years was Alfred. This AI, conceived as a helpful assistant, was based on a mixture of artificial intelligence research and Stark's proprietary technology.

After months of late-night tweaks, endless debugging, and testing without mercy, Alfred finally came alive as a responsive and intelligent companion. The first time he showed Alfred to his parents, they were understandably perplexed. Not quite sure what to make of this AI, they nonetheless felt an overwhelming pride in their son's spectacular success. Before long, Alfred had become one with the family, lending a hand with daily routines and even helping out around the house. Sometimes, his parents spoke to Alfred as if he were an adult in the house.

With Alfred's assistance, Sam moved on to bigger projects. In the privacy of his room, he started building prototypes based on his memories, starting with smaller, more practical inventions. As time went by, he moved on to more complex projects, including his own version of an arc reactor and even a Iron Man suit.

He succeeded in impressing his parents even more by harnessing the arc reactor as a clean energy source, whereby he had transformed their family home into a mansion entirely fueled by his creation.

To finance these ventures, he had sought his father's assistance. Sam had meticulously chosen essential stocks and technology firms in which to invest, fully aware that they were poised to soar in the future.

His father never once said no when Sam came to him for money to invest in something; he trusted Sam's judgment and intelligence completely. Those investments paid off soon enough, garnering wealth that Sam could use to fund his inventions himself. With the help of Alfred, Sam created a mobile game that reached worldwide popularity, Candy Crush. The profits from that one game were enough to fund his ongoing ventures and provide the lavish lifestyle his family had grown accustomed to enjoying and also their family remained humble .

But Sam's ambitions didn't stop there. Now using Alfred, he began to delve deeper into digital information, his curiosity pushing him further into dangerous territory. His searches eventually got him to hack into a number of secure government databases, including the U.S. military and, more ominously, Sector Seven. His research revealed the darker side of humanity, uncovering secrets and questionable acts that had been hidden from the public.

It served as a stark reminder that while the Autobots would one day be allies, humanity itself was a complex tapestry capable of great kindness and chilling cruelty. These revelations only deepened his determination. Along with investment in stocks, coupled with the growth in his tech portfolio, he created a fictitious alias to donate money to people in need stealthily. He envisioned the possibility of owning his own business, a place of innovation where he could use his wealth to make a difference. Sam knew that as he maneuvered himself into a position of being a philanthropic force, he would actually be counterbalancing some of the darker revelations he had made.

But one finding shook him: records and sightings of Bumblebee and other cybertronians that went back as far as World War II. The realization hit him with the knowledge that the Transformers universe he was living in was much, much bigger and complex than the movies ever depicted. He knew he would have to be on high alert, bracing himself for whatever surprises lay in wait.

Through it all, Sam upheld his facade, attending school and consistently ranking at the top of his class. His intelligence remained a closely guarded family secret, enabling him to savor a childhood that felt relatively ordinary. His parents were overjoyed that he could thrive academically while still relishing a life free from the burdens of his remarkable intellect. Sam's disguise ensured his safety, while the friendships he forged and the hobbies he pursued brought joy to his parents' hearts. And though he was bubbling with excitement about his projects and the future, Sam was grounded by a deep appreciation for his family. He hadn't been given that chance in life he had left behind to make a real difference, but now he felt a sense of responsibility to use his gifts carefully. Those special moments with his parents kept him grounded so that he would never forget the simple joys they had given him.

Alfred's voice cut through his reverie. "Master Sam, breakfast is getting cold."

Sam grinned as he ripped his eyes away from the mirror. Six years had passed, and he was ready for anything, anticipating what lay ahead. As he went downstairs, he took a deep breath and savored the smell of his mother's pancakes. This was his life now, and he was determined to live every moment to the fullest. The world didn't know what was coming, and he intended to leave his mark upon the place, a mark far greater than any person could predict.

hi guys hope you enjoying the story if so give me those powerstones !!!!