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

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ [ 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐒 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 ]

The five young Cybertronains left the cave, kneeling over the edge and hiding behind the foliage. Ahead, the Quintesson ships were gathered around. They were all floating in the air ominously, their presence creating intense anticipation in the air.

"Quintessons..." Orion Pax uttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

"There's so many..." Elita-1 added, her voice trembling with fear.

*VRRRRR!!*

A loud and deep rumble reverberated through the air, a sound that felt like a distant thunderstorm unleashing its fury. The sky darkened ominously, swirling with shades of gray and indigo, and the five mechs instinctively turned their gaze upward. There, silhouetted against the tumultuous heavens, was a massive flying ship adorned with pulsating red glowing lights that seemed to flicker like malevolent stars. The rumble crescendoed into a roar, drowning out even the faintest whisper; it vibrated throughout the earth, sending tremors through the metallic frames of the mechs.

This was no ordinary vessel; it was another Quintesson ship—only this one dwarfed the others in size, its sheer magnitude spelling danger in the most blatant of terms. Awestruck and terrified, the mechs stared at its colossal form, which resembled an organic crustacean shell, intricate and foreboding. The ship's resonant growl served as a harbinger of impending doom, its very presence commanding respect and fear.

As the ship deftly rotated, it navigated through the darkening sky, eventually aligning itself with the mountain range where the five mechs sought refuge. The Quintessons aboard appeared to be waiting—not for just anything, but for someone among them.

"Sentinel."

D-16's words cut through the lingering tension, a beacon of recognition. In the distance, flanked by the swirling storm clouds, a familiar figure emerged: Sentinel Prime, clad in his signature golden and blue armor. He soared toward the ship, his silhouette heroic but now suffused with an unsettling air. As he landed with practiced grace, his troops—the elite Death Trackers—began to spread out, followed closely by his ever-observant personal assistant, Arachnid. The scene was rounded out by the ominous presence of the extensive waste management trains, remnants of a past encounter where the five mechs had crashed due to the rock crystallization when they first attempted to approach the surface.

The maw of the ship yawned open, dark and foreboding, as Quintesson troops began their descent, their movements synchronized and sinister. A low growl rumbled within the depths of the vessel, echoing ominously as rows of Quintessons lined up on both sides, their grotesque forms glinting in the ship's eerie light, ready to pay homage to their commander.

"Keep your eyes open," Sentinel whispered to Arachnid, his voice steady yet edged with caution, betraying the urgency of the moment.

"My eyes are always are," Arachnid replied coolly, an icy calmness in her tone as she stepped back, her mechanical eyes glinting with keen awareness.

Then, with a low, guttural growl that could send shivers down any opponent's spine, a monstrous Quintesson emerged, its stature dwarfing even the impressive form of Sentinel Prime. Its legs undulated like a mass of erratic tendrils, flickering in a disturbingly mesmerizing fashion. One arm was a menacing cannon, while the other culminated in a viciously sharp spike, glistening as if eager to pierce its next foe. The air thickened with dread as it was flanked by two hulking minions, ready to obey its every command.