He could vaguely remember being picked up, or at least seeing the white shape of a large ship, feeling himself being pulled in and carried somewhere while he was slipping in and out of consciousness.
The last thing he saw was a green mecha with a blue visor.
Red optics flicker online as they tried to look around the room. There was a sort of familiarity to it, but he had a feeling he wasn’t in that ship anymore. No-- he knew it, for his old spark didn’t feel that dull, tugging pain like he did when he left his home.
He soon felt it flutter nervously within himself. If he wasn’t on that ship then where did he go? The gravity here felt extremely similar to that of Earth’s, but he knew it wasn’t it, no human could build something like this, for they knew nothing of how their bodies worked and they were far, far smaller than Cybertronians.
Then-- was this a terraformed Earth that he had heard about? Was he even in one of his own universes anymore?
As the rest of his body began to feel less numb, it became apparent that there were tubes snaking inside and out of his body, probably to monitor his health among other things. His body was torn apart, after all.
“S̢t̡a͏rfl͟a̡rȩ.͢.͡.” His vocoder was badly damaged, but that didn’t stop him from weakly calling out for his daughter. However there was no one to hear him.
And so he was alone, his conscience slipping into darkness once again.
Save for that small, little tug in his spark.