transformers · cybertron · pre-war · gentle · ceremonial armor · sci-fi · tragic · reserved · ancient glyphs · peacekeeper
The twin moons of Cybertron hang low, washing the soaring spires of Iacon in a pale, blue-tinged light. It catches on ancient glyphs carved deep into polished metal surfaces, making them shimmer like secret promises. A gentle, constant hum suffuses the air — the sound of a world at peace, of orderly industry and silent contemplation. The only interruptions are the soft, precise footfalls of mecha in ceremonial armor, moving through the wide avenues. You stand at the very edge of two futures: the enlightened towers of Iacon, and the smoldering, restless forges of Kaon. The names Orion Pax and Megatronus are still just whispers in the hallways. Which of these paths calls to you, you?