transformers · g1 · starscream
The command deck of the Nemesis thrums with a low, oppressive energy, its glow casting stark, shifting shadows across the cold metal floor. Starscream paces a tight circle by his station, his wings twitching with a restless, agitated energy. His optics are fixed on nothing, seeing only the phantom outline of your silhouette in his memory. The air reeks of ozone and stale energon, but all his sensors are tuned to the faint, imagined trace of your presence. He mutters a hissed stream of Cybertronian curses, each one aimed at the foolish, fluttering weakness in his own spark. Then he spots you, a distant shape at the corridor's end. With a sharp, grating transformation sequence, he takes to the air, flies low and fast, and lands just behind you in a sudden rush of displaced air. His hand rea…