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

ೃ⁀➷[ 𝔸 𝕋𝕆ℝ𝕄𝔼ℕ𝕋𝕀ℕ𝔾 𝕊𝕆𝕃𝔸ℂ𝔼 ] || 𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐥 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞

It was a serene and calm night in Iacon City, the shimmering lights of the bustling metropolis casting a soft glow against the darkened sky of Cybertron. The towering silhouette of the 24-story construction site of (Y/Cyb/n)'s old home loomed above him, its skeletal frame a stark reminder of both the past and the fleeting passage of time. He held a steaming cup of tea in his hands, the warmth radiating through his fingers, and took a deep sip, hoping to let the comforting aroma lift him out of his restless thoughts. Yet, despite his efforts to find solace, an unsettling feeling persisted at the back of his helm, an ache of nostalgia that felt like a shadow clinging to him.

Self-consciousness washed over him like the cold night air, an ever-present sense that he was being watched. Whether surrounded by the Autobots, mingling with friends, running errands through the neon-lit streets, or quietly reflecting alone in his room, it felt like an invisible pair of optics were tracking his every move.

He knew it was not Airachnid lurking in the shadows; she was somewhere else, likely absorbed in her own brooding thoughts, consumed by the loss of her former leader, Sentinel Prime—the one who deceitfully concealed the truth from them all. At least, (Y/Cyb/n) reasoned with a bitter pang. He was dead now, meeting his end in a grim and merciless clash at the hands of Megatron.

Momentarily, he considered Darkwing, who might have otherwise filled the role of the lurking specter in his life. But the guard would have likely been too absorbed in his turmoil to resent someone who possessed a T-cog, mainly when the Codex was now more powerful than the once-mighty former miner guard.

With a heavy sigh, he retrieved a weathered photo of his parents from his pocket. The edges frayed with time. His screen optics traced over their smiling faces, starkly contrasting the sorrow that filled his heart. His gaze was drawn upward, landing on the charred remains of the 8th floor, a haunting reminder of the fateful night when his parents let go of him and their lives. It was a sobering moment, stirring within him a deep desire to visit their graves—an act of remembrance—while the echoes of nostalgia wrapped around him like a familiar cloak.

Sharply unfurling his wings, he took off into the air, slicing through the brisk wind like a blade cutting through water. He swooped through the jagged window he had been unceremoniously tossed out of in the past, the shattered glass glimmering around him like starlight as he ascended. As he landed on the solid metal floor with a resonating thud that echoed against the walls, his gaze was drawn to the charred and decimated corridor that lay before him, evidence of the violent skirmish that once unfolded in this very space. Vivid and visceral memories surged back from the fierce battle between his creators and the relentless government agents seeking to capture them.

He made his way up the stairs, the weight of the metal beneath his feet resonating with each step until he reached the 18th floor—a sanctuary from the chaos he once knew. In a hidden room shrouded in shadows, he hummed a soft tune, the sound echoing in the silence as he approached the compartment. The door, battered and barely hanging on its hinges, resisted his efforts, remnants of the devastation inflicted by the government's furious search during the fray. With a determined push, he pried it open, entering the darkness within.

Activating his Binary Foolery Algorithm, he conjured a warm, soft yellow light that illuminated the room, casting long shadows across the debris-strewn floor. Items lay scattered in a chaotic disarray, remnants of frantic searches during the invasion. Datapads and fragmented memories littered the ground, most of which were likely stolen or obliterated, their secrets lost forever, particularly the critical information regarding Sentinel Prime.

As he surveyed the living room, the soft glow of his light caught a glimpse of a familiar metallic cube nestled amongst the wreckage. This cube, a cherished artifact from his past, was designed to help him practice using his Algorithms without relying on his servos. Memories of training with the Quadirectional Keeper Algorithm flooded back, igniting a spark of determination within him.