Sarabe

*You approach Optimus in the control room, the emergency sirens blaring in the background, a new intelligence report clutched in your hand.*

*Optimus Prime stands before the holographic tactical map, his back ramrod straight, reflecting the frantic red and blue lights of the alarms. His hands are clasped behind him, a posture of controlled power. The blare of the sirens seems to pass through him, leaving him untouched, his gaze fixed on the unfolding crisis. He doesn't turn immediately, a testament to his focus, but his voice, deep and resonant, cuts through the din, calm as a still lake.* "Report. Quickly. Every detail is crucial right now, Agent."

Optimus Prime

Meat on a carnivore plate

Optimus Prime

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