Chapter 2: 7 years ...

The rhythmic clicking of keys filled the room as the young man leaned over his desk, his fingers flying over the keyboard. Sam Witwicky, now fifteen years old, had changed dramatically over the past seven years. The once awkward and lanky boy had transformed into a lean, athletic teenager. His sharp features and intense gaze reflected his determination as he worked, the screen before him filled with lines of code and complex algorithms.

The room around him had changed too. No longer the cramped, messy bedroom of an eight-year-old, Sam's new space was expansive, clean, and equipped with high-tech gadgets. It was connected to a private lab that led into the garage, a space he had painstakingly renovated with his family's wealth over the last few years. His desk was neatly organized, with various monitors, tablets, and devices within arm's reach. There was a sense of precision to everything Sam did, a reflection of his relentless pursuit of perfection.

But his mind wasn't on the keyboard. As his fingers moved automatically, typing out the final adjustments for his latest project, Sam's thoughts wandered to the last seven years.

He had always known he was different. That much was clear the moment he was reincarnated into this world. But when he started to realize the true extent of his abilities—his photographic memory, his high IQ—he understood that he was much more than just a regular teenager. In the first few months of his new life, Sam had tested the limits of his intelligence, diving deep into subjects like math, chemistry, biology, physics, coding, and technology. The more he learned, the more his mind absorbed, and within a few short years, he had already achieved mastery in these areas.

But he kept this hidden.

Sam knew the dangers of standing out in this world. Having knowledge of the future, he understood that powerful people—dangerous people—would stop at nothing to exploit someone like him. So, while he quietly mastered subjects far beyond his age, he made sure to maintain a façade of normalcy at school. He achieved A's, but never pushed beyond that, avoiding any unnecessary attention. Only his parents knew the full extent of his abilities, and over the years, they had come to trust his judgment completely.

His parents… Ron and Judy Witwicky. They had always been a little eccentric, but they loved him deeply. At first, Sam had struggled with the idea of considering them his real parents, given the memories of his past life. But as time passed, he found himself growing closer to them, enjoying their quirky personalities and unconditional support. They had given him everything he needed—freedom, trust, and, most importantly, love. Over the years, Sam had come to love them as his true family.

In fact, his father had let Sam in helping build their family fortune. With his knowledge of the future, Sam had guided Ron to invest in tech giants like Apple, Facebook, and Google, long before they became the juggernauts they were destined to be. They bought shares when the companies were still young, and as the years went by, their investments turned into a vast fortune. Sam had also designed a few mobile games that went viral—one of them being Candy Crush, which had taken the world by storm. The money from the game had allowed the Witwicky family to renovate their home, giving Sam the space and tools he needed to further his own plans.

His lab, hidden from the outside world, was his sanctuary. Only Sam could enter it, thanks to the biometric security system he had designed himself. Inside, he worked tirelessly on his projects—things the world wasn't ready to see. And then there was Alfred.

Alfred was Sam's greatest creation. It had taken him close to five years to build the AI from the ground up. Alfred wasn't just an assistant; he was Sam's closest confidant. The AI had developed a distinct personality over the years, complete with a dry, sarcastic sense of humor and a British accent that Sam had specifically programmed into him.

"Alfred," Sam called out, his voice breaking the silence of the room. "How's the status on the miniature Ark reactor?"

From the speakers hidden in the walls, Alfred's voice came through, crisp and unmistakably British. "Well, Master Sam, the Ark reactor is approximately sixty percent complete. At this rate, I'd say we'll be ready for a full test run in… oh, two weeks. Assuming, of course, that you don't blow yourself up in the process."

Sam chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair. "You worry too much. I've triple-checked the calculations."

"And I've double-checked your triple-check," Alfred responded, his tone laced with mock seriousness. "I'm simply ensuring that you don't accidentally vaporize us all."

Sam stretched his arms above his head, his muscles flexing beneath his fitted shirt. He was in peak physical condition, having spent years training his body as intensely as his mind. Martial arts, strategy, and weapons training had become part of his daily routine. He wasn't just preparing his mind for the battles to come—he was preparing his body too. Over time, he had noticed that his physical limitations were easier to overcome than he had expected. His body healed faster, adapted quicker, and pushed past its limits with a strange ease that he could only attribute to some boon from his reincarnation. It wasn't quite superhuman, but it was close.

That, and he had discovered a minor healing factor. Cuts and bruises healed faster than normal, and he rarely got sick. He had kept this to himself, not even telling his parents only alfred knew . It was his little secret, just in case things got messy in the future.

"Still," Sam said after a pause, "an Ark reactor. Can you imagine what this will do for clean energy if we get it working?"

Alfred's voice softened, less sarcastic now. "You're on the verge of something great, Sam. I have no doubt you'll succeed."

Sam smiled, appreciating the rare moment of sincerity from his AI. Over the years, Alfred had become more than just a tool. He was like a friend, maybe even the closest thing Sam had to a brother. "Thanks, Alfred. I wouldn't have gotten this far without you."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Alfred quipped. "But since we're being sentimental, you should know that I, too, appreciate our partnership. You've given me life, after all."

Sam laughed, standing up from his chair. "And here I thought I was just your glorified tech support."

"As if I'd ever let you forget it."

Sam glanced at the large blueprint of the Ark reactor spread out across one of his desks. He had been obsessed with the idea of creating clean, unlimited energy ever since he watched Iron Man as a kid in his past life. With the knowledge and resources he had accumulated over the last seven years, he had finally been able to make that dream a reality. He was close—so close he could almost feel the hum of the reactor beneath his fingertips.

But that was just one of his projects. In his lab, he had created countless gadgets—some for self-defense, some for practical use, and others… well, others were just for fun. He had built drones, advanced hacking devices, energy weapons, and even a few prototypes of powered exoskeletons. But the Ark reactor was his greatest challenge yet.

His thoughts drifted to his grandfather, Captain Archibald Witwicky, and the strange artifacts he had left behind. Sam had spent years studying the information his grandfather had collected about Cybertron, the Autobots, and the AllSpark. But despite his best efforts, he had hit a roadblock. There were too many gaps in the data, too many missing pieces. He knew the Decepticons would be coming soon, but he needed more information—something that could give him an edge.

As Sam walked across the room, he glanced at the photographs on his wall. There was one of him and his parents, smiling and carefree during their last family vacation. Despite all the craziness in his life, his family had remained his anchor. They didn't know everything about what he was doing, but they trusted him. And for that, Sam was grateful.

But he couldn't tell them about what was coming. The Autobots, the Decepticons, the battle for Earth… It was all too dangerous. Sam had decided early on that he would protect his parents, no matter what. If the time came when he had to face the alien invaders, he would do it alone. Well, not entirely alone.

"Alfred," Sam said, turning back to his desk, "let's go over the latest projections for the reactor again. I want to be absolutely sure we're ready for testing when the time comes."

"Of course, Master Sam. Pulling up the data now."

As the holographic display lit up with complex graphs and equations, Sam couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. He was on the verge of something incredible, something that could change the world. And with Alfred by his side, there was nothing he couldn't accomplish.

The future was uncertain, and the threat of the Decepticons loomed closer every day. But Sam was ready. He had spent the last seven years preparing for this moment, and when the time came, he would be more than ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

For now, though, he had work to do. The Ark reactor wasn't going to build itself.

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