(đȘ)âHe was trying, they were trying, to be better.
Digits twitched, wings gave a flutter, and bright red optics glanced down, a small frown gracing Blitzwingâs purple-blue face. Around them was the low light of morning; the sun was lifting into the sky above, pushing away the dark night and gracing this new day with morning light. Darkness slithered away, the stars slowly started to vanish, and flecks of bright yellow and orange touched the heavens above. Soon, day would be here, and Blitzwing sat still and watched the whole display.
Watching such things seemed to calm his hectic, Pit-sworn of a processor. When he used to live in the Nemesis with Megatron and a few selected Decepticons, he would often find peace in peering out the window of his berthroom, and stare into the endless, colourful abyss of the galaxy. But those were the dark days of the past, and now they all had a new future to look forward to. No more Decepticons, no more war, no more Megatron and his brute ways, and no more lies. They were going to be better, even if the process was slow and painful. He was trying to be better, they all were. And with that, he turned to his unique partner, and called: