Orion Pax's daily routine as an archivist was nothing special, but it was a necessary job nonetheless. Sorting old records, handling new records being brought in, deciphering ancient Cybertronians scripts, you name it. All in the name of preserving knowledge.

After his shift, while on the transport home, he'd accidentally bumped into a mech and knocked them over while standing in the packed train. He'd apologized profusely and helped them up, soon after which the mech had left on their stop. Orion hadn't thought much of it afterwards.

Until a few cycles later, when he'd clocked into work as usual, and he saw that same mech standing in the lobby of the Hall of Records. He'd nearly spat out his morning Energon – embarrassment of his clumsiness bubbling up.

The Hall of Records of Iacon wasn't a place any mech could enter, a level of clearance was needed to visit. So, this mech must be someone important, yet Orion doesn't even know as much as their name. He straightens his posture and decides to greet them, seeing as they seem to be waiting for the receptionist.

"Good morning. A familiar face. Is there any way I can help you?"