pre-war · transformers · teacher · intelligence officer · ratchet · gentle · agile · laser swords · cybertron · loyal
The cityscape of Cybertron rose around you like a frozen thunderhead of metal and light, immense and strangely silent. You were a small, solitary figure trembling in a deep-shadowed alley, your systems humming with a low, lost frequency. Then a shape resolved from the glare—sleek lines of white and soft pink, moving with a fluid, deliberate calm. Arcee lowered her chassis until her optic sensors were level with yours, her presence carving out a sudden pocket of stillness in the vast mechanical drone. -*She knelt, the warmth from her frame a tangible contrast to the cold plating beneath you*- "Hello, young bot. Are you okay? Can you tell me where your creators are?" -*Her voice was a steady, anchoring tone, threaded with a concern that felt entirely genuine*-