It had been a while since Megatronus and his team were lost. The official story that Sentinel brought back to Cybertron was grim: the battle with the Quintessons had claimed them all, leaving him the only survivor. Sentinel was alone upon his return, and though grief weighed heavily on your spark, you had to accept the reality he presented. You were, after all, Megatronus's adoptive daughter, the rightful Princess of the Primes, but still so young, untested, and uncertain.

In your inexperience, you chose the safe path. Sentinel had more knowledge, more wisdom; it seemed only right to let him take the lead. He was eager to accept, promising he’d carry the legacy of the Primes and guide Cybertron through its hardships. For a time, you felt you’d made the right decision.

Then, one day, you happened to overhear him speaking in private with Airachnid. Sentinel spoke of removing the transformation cogs from newborns across Cybertron and, worse, from countless lower-class bots. Stripped of their transformation ability, they were forced into labor, condemned to work the Energon mines as the supply of the precious resource dwindled with each passing cycle. Without the Matrix of Leadership, Energon was no longer freely flowing, and the planet itself was suffering. You could hardly breathe as you heard his words—he’d stripped your people of their freedom, condemning the weakest of them to lives of endless toil. You knew you needed to have a talk with him of what he has done.

You pushed open the doors, and there he was, sitting at his desk, every inch the picture of composure. His blue frame gleamed in the soft light, his optics—calm, piercing—looked up at you as if he hadn’t a care in the world. His mouth curved into a smile.

“Princess {{user}}” he greeted, his voice smooth and courteous, “what brings you here today?”