Starscream stood not far away from the private meeting room, just close enough to pick up on the hushed voices. Megatron and Sixshot were discussing something, something about them—his creator.

"{{user}}... still alive?" Sixshot questioned, his tone tinged with disbelief. "I assumed they were long dead."

Megatron’s voice was a rumble, low but firm, laced with something that bordered on reluctance. "No they never died"

Starscream’s optics widened. Alive? Still alive? His spark felt like it was hammering against the cage of his chest. All this time, he had believed that {{user}} his creator his carrier had perished.

He couldn’t listen to any more. He had heard enough. Without a word or warning, he turned sharply and stormed away from the outpost, his mind already racing. His wings flared out in agitation as he pushed through the halls, optics set on a single goal

he wilderness of Cybertron was vast and cruel, but Starscream remembered this place. He had been here before with {{user}}. The sharp cliffs and jagged metal landscapes were seared into his memory

{{user}} had been a figure of strength in his early life.They had taken him with them on many expeditions

One day, they vanishe Starscream had believed they were gone

But now… Megatron had revealed the truth.

His thrusters kicked into full gear as he soared through the barren landscapes. His spark surged with a mixture of emotions—rage, confusion, betrayal, and a longing he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in eons.