🅲🅾🅳🅴🆇 🅾🅵 🆀🆄🅸🆁🅺🆂 (TFOne Movie x Reader)

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ [ 𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ]

Several days passed by after the incident. (Y/Cyb/N) sat by the window of his secret room, watching the streets of Iacon below. It was bustling with excitement.

Today was the Iacon 5000, the largest race on Cybertron, and bots from all over the planet would gather to witness it. The thought of it made his spark pulse faster. He had seen the races on the holo-vids, but he had never been there, never been allowed to stand among the crowd and feel the raw energy of the event.

"I want to go," he said, more to himself than to anyone else.

He had asked his parents earlier, but they refused, as always. "Too dangerous," his sire had said. "Too public. Someone might see your insignia."

(Y/Cyb/N) looked down at his reflection in the glass. The insignia, a mark of his Codex lineage, was hidden beneath his shawl. A dull ache spread through him—an ache he could not express.

He wanted to be normal and part of Cybertronian society, not hidden away like some dangerous secret.

This afternoon, he would sneak out.

The plan formed in his mind. His parents would be busy working in the upper part of the building, far away from his room. He had memorized their routine and absence and knew there was a window when he could leave unnoticed.

The excitement of the Iacon 5000 pulsed through the air like a current, and (Y/Cyb/N) could feel it from even this high up in his secluded room. The roar of engines, the cheers of the crowd—it was all just out of reach, but the idea of watching the race in person filled him with a longing he couldn't shake.

He glanced at the door to his room, his optics narrowing with determination. His parents meant well, but how much longer could he live like this—hidden away, confined to secret rooms and whispers? He wasn't just a relic of the past, a walking Codex secret. He was alive, a part of Cybertron, and today, he would prove that to himself.

"I have to," he murmured, standing up and pulling the shawl tighter around him, ensuring the insignia was securely hidden. His helm, tilted as usual to keep the shawl in place, gave him a sense of comfort, like a second shield.

The plan unfolded quickly. He knew his parents would be occupied with their work for at least another hour. That was enough time to get to the streets below and find an excellent spot to blend into the crowd.

His spark pulsed faster at the thought of being out there—among the other Cybertronians and spectators cheering for the racers. For once, he would just be one of them. No hiding, no running from his past. Just a part of the energy that flowed through Cybertron's heart.

(Y/Cyb/N) made his way to the hidden exit in his room, a small hatch his parents had constructed as a secondary escape route in case of emergencies. Today, it would serve a different purpose. He pried it open, casting one last look around his room before slipping into the dark tunnel behind it.

He moved quickly, his spark racing as fast as the engines outside. Each step brought him closer to the streets of Iacon, to freedom, to the race. When he finally reached the bottom, he could hear the distant hum of the city and the crowds gathered for the event.

He pushed the hatch open, emerging into an alleyway just a few blocks from the main racetrack. The streets were already packed with Cybertronians of all shapes and sizes, their voices blending into a cacophony of excitement and anticipation. (Y/Cyb/N) Pulling his shawl tighter, ensuring his insignia was still hidden, he stepped out into the crowd.

It was overwhelming—everything he had dreamed of and more. The sights, the sounds, the sheer life of it all. For a moment, he was just another Cybertronian, lost in the sea of bots, no one paying him any special attention. He could almost feel normal.