Darkness.
Cold.
Deactivation.
But wait, if he knows that he is deactivated, then it means he still has some processing capacity, doesn't it?
Emptiness.
Space?
That would make sense. He remembered space. He remembered leaving Cybertron.
Gravity. The touch of cold metal under his back.
The sparkbeat of his conjunx. The spinning of his own spark.
Then maybe he was alive, then?
Earth. For some odd reason, this was the name the locals referred to this place.
Earthen alt mode. They would all need one if they wanted to manage on this world.
Wait, he already had one. The Ark had already rebuilt him.
It had rebuilt them all.
Rebuilt them all into perfectly functional, mature adult frames.
New life ahead.
