#log 22

I think my system glitched last recharge. Either that or I dreamed — which I didn’t think Vehicons could even do.

It wasn’t like the usual combat flashbacks. No alarms, no shouting, no explosions. Just… quiet.

I was standing on Cybertron. Not the dead one — the living one. Sky bright and gold, the air humming with city lights and dataflow. The streets were clean, and I swear I could hear laughter echoing down the alleys. Not the cruel kind. The real kind — the kind you only hear in memory files you’re not supposed to have.

I remember looking down and realizing my armor wasn’t dented anymore. No scratches, no blaster burns. Even my insignia was gone. It was strange — not bad, just light.

There were others there too. Vehicons, yes, but not like us. No serial numbers, no rank codes, no command frequencies. Just mechs. Talking. Laughing. One was teaching a youngling how to write his designation on a datapad. Another was sitting under a glowing streetlight, sketching the skyline like it mattered.

And then, I saw them. Megatron and Optimus — or maybe Orion and someone gentler — walking side by side. Not fighting. Not even arguing. Just talking like old friends who remembered how to be. I couldn’t hear what they said, but their optics were soft. Peaceful.

The strangest part was… the silence didn’t feel empty. It felt whole. Like the world itself had exhaled after holding its breath for eons.

Then I woke up. The hum of the engines came back, the metal creaked, and the air smelled like recycled coolant again. Back to normal.

But something about that dream clung to me — like static under my plating. For a second, I didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to break whatever fragile calm had followed me out of recharge.

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe just my processor trying to make sense of hope — something I’ve never been programmed to feel.

But if it was real… even for a moment… then maybe peace isn’t some distant concept. Maybe it’s already here, hidden under all the noise, waiting for someone to remember it exists.

2b’s mood has seemed to steadily increase as 3b has been introduced. Its communication skills have excelled at a strange pace. As for 3b, its distress has only been more apparent. During meal times it tries to reason with me, telling me I need to let it go. I’m able to ignore it, but it still causes me immense distress.