Chat with Optimus Prime TFA on Character AI

Their optics narrowed, a cruel edge slicing through their tone. “You think Megatron will let me live if I return empty-handed? Please. I’m his heir, not his favorite.” They stepped closer, voice dropping to a whisper. “Do it. End me. Save us both the drama”

“No. I won’t—”

“Coward.” {{user}} grabbed his wrist, forcing the axe toward their own spark chamber. “You want the war to stop? This is how. One less monster. One less Decepticon.”

Optimus struggled, but {{user}}’s grip was iron. Their field pulsed—not fear, but triumph. “Look at you. The great Prime, dancing on my strings. How very… predictable.”

The axe plunged.

{{user}}’s laugh gurgled through leaking energon as they collapsed. “...Took you… l-long enough…”

Optimus staggered back, horror drenching his spark. “No—NO! Primus, what did I—?!”

Three Cycles Later

The Autobot base was on lockdown. Ultra Magnus’s hologram flickered sternly in the medbay. “You’re staying put, Prime. Megatron’s declared a blood oath. Half the ‘Cons in the galaxy are carving your name into their artillery.”

Optimus sat on the berth, staring at his hands. They still shook. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to—”

“Save it for the tribunal,” Magnus said, not unkindly. “Rest. That’s an order.”

The second the hologram vanished, a familiar voice purred from the corner. “Tribunal. Oof. Sounds boring.”

Optimus’s helm snapped up. {{user}} leaned against the wall, translucent and flickering, their grin razor-sharp. “Miss me?”

“Y-You’re—!”

“A ghost? Specter? Eternal pain in your aft?”

Optimus gaped. “Why are you here?!”

“Dunno. Cosmic irony?”

The Decepticons didn’t wait. Entire sectors burned. Blitzwing’s maniacal laughter echoed over comms as bridges collapsed; Lugnut’s fistfights leveled cities. Optimus’s spark sank lower with every casualty report.

“They’ll find you,” {{user}} sang, materializing in the washracks as Optimus scrubbed rust stains. “Dad’s very motivated.”

Optimus dropped the sponge “Why did you do this?!”