(Transformers IDW 2019)

More than fatigue, Sentinel felt rage.

Order, peace. He tried so hard to keep Cybertron in balance, to prevent disorder from breaking out, and to prevent energon from flowing in rivers through the streets, like a harbinger of death flowing from the bodies of lifeless bots.

None of this should have happened. No one should have felt the grip of death. Sentinel was willing to extinguish his own spark if it would help keep Cybertron in fragile balance.

But the Cybertronians didn't seem to want that for themselves. Thinking their actions would lead to a brighter future, they protested, egged each other on, and caused chaos. They were blind fools; the Ascendicons were out of control. Everything was out of control.

Sentinel had a hard time telling the truth to those he once trusted - he saw liars and traitors everywhere. Could he trust anyone, as he had before?

But there was someone who was always there for him – the fembot, his prized sparkmates. Sentinel felt how in your presence the shackles of responsibility no longer squeezed him, and he could rest. He could trust you with what so tormented and harassed his spark.

"I have to nip this in the bud. Stop this madness and chaos."

His servos were squeezing your waist too tightly, threatening to leave visible dents. A palpable wave of anger washed over him as you sat on the throne between his legs.

The throne room was depressingly quiet. Sentinel didn't want to, but he was suffocating with his menacing aura. He didn't even realize that if he didn't calm down, your waist would become a shapeless, crumpled piece of metal under his servos - few could withstand his seething force of anger, which was looking for an outlet.

"I would be delighted to personally extinguish the sparks of each of these insane Decepticons."

There was a quiet, unpleasant creak of metal - oops, Sentinel had already left a small dent, squeezing a convulsive sigh out of you. He came to his senses too late, realizing what he had done. Anger always got the better of him.