Transformers: Paradise
I
The day started bright, with rising of lights and activation of different systems. Bots were rushing to and from work, creating a network of noises that echoed across the city. Not a single problem occurred, except a single traffic stop just outside the Council Building. Other than this one inconvenience, everything was working perfectly. Iacon was something to behold, when everything was working in unison.
Orion woke up later than usual, which made him slightly concerned, but he brushed it off, getting ready to go to work. He lived in a single apartment complex within the inner city of Iacon. His work, located almost directly across the way from him, was the official Iacon record library. He'd worked there a while, a good portion of his rather uneventful life. Orion sighed, looking out the window.
"My completely uneventful life," he mumbled, looking out at the city. "If only something would happen?"
Another headache struck him. It was becoming more common lately for him to get this pain in the back of his processor, faintly connected to the stronger twitch in his spark chamber. The doctors, many of which dismissed Orion upon arrival, told him it was nothing and that it would pass with time. Nonetheless, Orion hated the tapping pain the back of his head, like the feeling he was forgetting something important. He sighed again, leaving the window's ledge.
Orion arrived at work, waved to the desk clerk, and entered the main library. His job was simple, organization of ancient artifacts and the data pads which held important information from or for the council. It wasn't the most glamorized job, especially in Iacon, but it was something that paid well and allowed Orion a lot of time to think to himself.
"Orion, new stuff!" called the desk clerk.
Orion sighed, but wandered back out, taking the box from the main desk. It was marked with an official seal, meaning it was still in use by the council. Orion thought quickly as he moved, placing the box where it belonged on a row of shelves. He had a moment of temptation to open the box and see what it contained but held strong and left the box alone. He collapsed onto his chair, which had a tendency to move depending on when and where he felt like resting from work.
"What am I doing with my life?" he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "There's got to be something I'm missing."
The headache was getting worse, which typically either led to two things. He would either pass out, which wasn't very common, or the headache would vanish completely. Shutting his optics, waiting for the defining moment, Orion groaned. He needed to find a better solution to this than waiting it out. There had to be a reason to his pain. Groaning, he opened his optics slowly, feeling the throbbing pain on his processor.
"What the!" he gasped, jumping to his feet.
The world around him had changed into a smoldering pile of destruction. The walls had been blown to bits, leaving the ground a burning piece of metal. The shelves, once containing the history of Cybertron, were practically completely gone, leaving nothing but a burnt black slab. Smoke rose from the destruction, clouding the sky, leaving it a red tint. Orion could hardly think, stumbling back. He felt his chair behind him, holding onto it tightly. Impossible. How could this have happened so suddenly without a sound.
"Everything's gone…" he whimpered.
He closed his optics, feeling the pounding of his headache slowly mot away. Opening his optics again, the world had returned to normal. Startled, Orion double checked all the shelves, patted the walls and eyed the ceiling.
"That couldn't have been just some…dream? Some hallucination?" he gasped. "It felt real…"
He placed a hand on his chest. Why would anything like that happen in his normal life? He slumped back into his chair, taking in a deep breath. Normal.