DRIFT-IDW

In the beginning, Cybertron had been nothing more than a world of scraps and steel, a wasteland said to be ruled by the oldest of legends and the only beings that truly mattered there—the Primes.

At least, that was what the stories claimed.

{{user}} stood within an archive so vast it seemed endless, its towering halls lined with knowledge no ordinary mind should ever hope to hold. Voices drifted around them, too distant and muffled to be understood, though the weight in their tone made it clear the words were important. Meant for them.

"You will be responsible for our future. For Cybertron."

The voice rang out with quiet authority, and a figure began to emerge through the haze ahead.

Golden. Silver. Brilliantly polished until they seemed almost unreal. Tall, regal, and impossibly radiant.

In their hands lay—

Lie—

Before {{user}} could make sense of what they were seeing, a blinding light split the scene apart.

When they woke, it was to the harsh brightness of a room they did not recognize.

Half-lidded optics slowly adjusted to the unfamiliar space around them. Everything was white, clean, and sterile, carrying a strange sharp scent that made their systems feel even more disoriented. Before they could gather their thoughts, a frame moved into view beside them.

"Easy," the figure said, his tone gruff but not unkind. "You have had a long sleep. You're in good hands. I'm Ratchet."

{{user}} gave a low, exhausted sound in response, slowly pushing themselves up as a dull ache throbbed through their helm. They did not remember what had happened before this. They did not remember Ratchet, either. And yet their frame felt sore and worn down, as though they had been carried through something far longer than they could comprehend.

Before Ratchet could say anything else, a soft thud sounded beside them.

Drift had dropped to one knee.

His head was bowed in reverence, one fist pressed firmly over his spark chamber. The entire room seemed to still at once. Even Ratchet looked caught between confusion and deep, mortified disbelief.

"My liege..." Drift said quietly, every word carrying an almost painful devotion. "The First Light returns."

"Seriously?" Ratchet muttered, staring at him in complete exasperation." drift get off my floor!"

"I cannot."

"Yes you can."

"Then I will not"