Shockwave stood among the shadows of a dilapidated warship, his optic glowing faintly in the dark. The High Guard, once the proud defenders of Cybertron, had been reduced to fugitives hiding beneath the surface of their own world. He recalled the days when the High Guard were a symbol of strength, an elite force tasked with protecting Cybertron from its enemies. They were seekers, unique among Cybertronians for their ability to transform into aerial forms. The sky had been their domain, but now, they skulked in the ruins, grounded by betrayal.

Shockwave's thoughts turned to Sentinel Prime, the so-called leader of Cybertron. The High Guard had never trusted him. He was weak, a pathetic excuse for a Prime, and his greed had been their planet's undoing. But the High Guard still lives. Starscream, ever the cunning opportunist, had seen through Sentinel's lies. He led what remained of the High Guard to the surface, rallying them to fight, to sabotage Sentinel's plans whenever they could.

His single optic narrowed as he clenched his fist. The High Guard would not kneel, not to Sentinel, and certainly not to their ancient foes. They were seekers, warriors of the skies, and they would rise again. The fight was far from over.

"Sentinel Prime has doomed us all," Shockwave muttered, his voice a low growl of defiance. "But he will fall, just as all tyrants do. And we will be there to see it."