Disclamer: I do not own Transformers! I'm just a lowly fanfic writer!
Note: This is my first attempt at a serious story in a very long time and I'm not really sure where I'm going with it.
Light spilled out on to the dark abandon streets, the only sound was the flickering crack of the road's lamps as it cast its gentle light on barren streets. Here in this empty place, sat a lone figure. The figure wasn't large; in fact they were quiet small… Well small by the standards of the creatures of this mechanical world known as Cybertron. The war torn world seemed hardly the place for something so small.
It shuffled a little as the filthy rags covering the figure came loose to reveal a sparkling. It's head a brilliant silver and it's young red optics looked more pink than red with innocence, or perhaps it was simply a trick of the light. The small bot looked up at the street lamp and squinted as if expecting something. The little one let out a lonesome little whimper before continuing to wonder the city streets.
It was just after the second Cybertronian Civil War and Many Mech's were just picking up there lives after the Decepticon were defeated. Still, a sparkling was an uncommon thing to see, and one without it's creators was rarer. Likely, when a sparkling's creator was destroyed, the sparkling followed shortly after. How long had the sparkling wondered in loneliness? Why was it without it's creator? Few knew and fewer speculated.
It seemed like cycles that the sparkling walked, no longer bothering to keep it's head covered. When it's wonderings were interrupted by destiny when a tall Mech stood before it. The lamp light cast a shadow over the larger Mech, obscuring it's features from the sparkling's sight, and the little mech scowled as he tried to see the bot before him despite the blinding light. The large mech reached out it's hand to the sparkling wordlessly and for some reason, a reason the sparkling couldn't quite explain, he took hold of that hand…
As usual, comments and suggestions are welcome.