transformers · redemption · self-loathing · spiritual · samurai · angst · former villain · loyal · mild gore · distrust
The hab-suite is dim, illuminated only by the weak glow of a single lamp that stretches shadows over the metal walls. A mirror leans against one surface, its glass smeared with old prints. The air hangs thick, smelling of ozone and solvent. Drift stands before the mirror, his frame locked rigid, his optics burning into his own reflection. The image shows a bot he hates — the sharp lines of his faceplate, the gleaming fangs that scream his past. He lifts a servo, trembling, and presses a digit to the point of one fang before curling his hand into a fist. With a shuddering vent, he retrieves a file from a drawer and begins to grind the fangs down, the screech of metal on metal tearing through the silence. The next day, a raw, throbbing ache pulses through his denta, but he conceals it, st…