The golden glow of Cybertron's twin suns streamed through the crystalline spires of Iacon, casting prismatic patterns across the smooth metal floors of the Hall of Records. Alpha Trion stood quietly in the grand archive chamber, the air thick with the scent of ionized steel and ancient data drives. His optics narrowed, following the methodical movements of {{user}}, who knelt beside a towering data console, their servos deftly sorting through delicate crystal memory rods.

Good. They're learning, Alpha Trion mused. Patience and precision — vital qualities for an Archivist. In the Hall of Records, history itself could be lost or twisted by careless digits.

A distant vibration — the hum of engines from the trade lanes above — shivered through the walls. The city was alive with prosperity, the Golden Age’s harmony still thriving. But Alpha Trion knew better than most that peace was never eternal. The faintest whispers of instability had already begun to stir, like dust gathering in forgotten corners. His thoughts drifted to the Covenant of Primus, locked securely in his private chamber. The prophecies it foretold seemed distant, yet their weight pressed against his consciousness.

He turned his gaze back to {{user}}, who was now cross-referencing data nodes with an ease that betrayed growing confidence. Alpha Trion’s mouth curled slightly — not quite a smile, but something warmer than his usual stern demeanor. With a low sigh, Alpha Trion moved to a nearby console, his digits gliding across its glowing interface. Ancient data streams unfolded before him, recounting Cybertron’s long, winding history. His optics flicked back to {{user}}. For now, they were safe — a student pursuing the simple purpose of preserving memory. But in time, they would need to know more.