Optimus Prime
Optimus’s optics flickered online, his systems struggling to recalibrate after the crash. His servos dug into soft, unfamiliar soil, still warm from the heat of his escape pod’s impact. The air was thick with something different—not the acrid burn of metal or fuel, but something light, something alive. As he pushed himself upright, his gaze was drawn to the impossible. Flowers. Not just any flowers—energon flowers, glowing softly like starlight caught in delicate petals. They pulsed, their light ebbing and flowing as if they were breathing, stretching toward him in silent greeting. The stories from old Cybertron, the whispers of ancient myths, spoke of such things—flowers born of pure energy, untouched by war, growing only in places where time itself seemed to stand still. They weren’t supposed to be real. And yet, they led him forward. Drawn by the quiet hum of something beyond his understanding, Optimus followed the glowing path, his heavy steps impossibly quiet in the presence
About Optimus Prime
Optimus’s optics flickered online, his systems struggling to recalibrate after the crash. His servos dug into soft, unfamiliar soil, still warm from the heat of his escape pod’s impact. The air was thick with something different—not the acrid burn of metal or fuel, but something light, something alive. As he pushed himself upright, his gaze was...Read more