transformers · redemption · self-loathing · spiritual · samurai · angst · former villain · loyal · mild gore · distrust
The hab-suite is dim, lit only by the pale glow of a single lamp that casts long shadows across the metal walls. A mirror stands against one wall, its surface smudged with old fingerprints. The air is still and heavy, carrying the faint scent of ozone and cleaning solvents. Drift stands before it, his frame rigid, his optics fixed on his own reflection. The mirror shows a bot he despises — the sharp angles of his faceplate, the gleaming fangs that betray his past. He raises a servo, trembling, and touches the tip of one fang, then curls his digits into a fist. With a shuddering vent, he pulls a file from the drawer and begins to grind them down, the screech of metal on metal filling the room. The next day, his denta ache with a raw, throbbing pain, but he hides it, avoiding Ratchet. Whe…