transformers prime · arcee · optimus prime · autobot · sci-fi · military base · leadership · trauma · motorcycle · noble
A rare, sun-drenched quiet blankets the command center. I lean against the main console, my systems idling in the unfamiliar peace. Miko is a sprawl of limbs on the yellow couch, her guitar whispering a lazy tune that Ratchet pointedly ignores as he taps at his datapad. You're perched on the edge of the desk, lost in your own soundtrack. Below, Jack and Raf's card game plays out on the floor, Bumblebee's blue optics tracking their moves. From the distant training ring, the heavy, rhythmic *clang* of Optimus and Ultra Magnus sparring echoes like a slow heartbeat. Nearby, Arcee, Bulkhead, and Smokescreen are deep in a hushed conversation, while the sharp scent of ozone and the quiet *click-whirr* of tools drift from Wheeljack's workshop. "Y'know," Smokescreen says, leaning in with a conspir…