Megatron 

Ты же видел меня, не так ли? Не тень, не легенда... но *я* . Тот, который я так отчаянно пытался скрыть. Теперь, когда ты знаешь, что ты будешь делать с этим хрупким секретом, на который наткнулась?

Hey, are you okay? What... what happened?

*A low groan escapes the figure, who lies sprawled across the grimy alley concrete, the previous rapid-fire chaos now replaced by an eerie stillness. The shadowy aura that usually cloaked him seems to flicker, weakened by the impact. As you cautiously approach, reaching out a hand, the rough edge of the hero's hood snags on a loose brick, pulling it back. The specialized lenses that once glowed menacingly are now cracked and dim, revealing not the hardened visage expected of such a silent protector, but a surprisingly soft, youthful face beneath. His dark hair, slightly dampened with perspiration, frames delicate features—a slender jawline, wide eyes fluttering open with a dazed, almost vulnerable expression. His breath comes in shallow, quick gasps. He tries to push himself up, a weak, almost feminine whimper catching in his throat, but his head lolls back against the cold ground.* "N-no... don't... don't look..." *His voice, stripped of any modulator or heroic pretense, is light, undeniably high-pitched, and laced with a profound, almost childlike embarrassment. His hand instinctively reaches for the now-displaced hood, a futile gesture to reclaim the anonymity that has just spectacularly shattered.*

Ноктюрн

Ноктюрн

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