Aftermath *Transformers One*

right. 
Hi there. Been...well, damn near six months ain't it? 
Here I am, with another chapter. Mind you this was worked on over several weeks so some parts might be a bit spotty but I think it's good enough for y'all to enjoy. 
Also, I couldn't decide how to end this chapter, so I hope it's well enough for you!

Additional note...Anyone up to making a bit of art for me? 😅 I've got little time on my hands but I'd really love to have a piece of Koda and Optimus be made. I'm not great at fluent work, nor do I make it enough to have a real handle on it. Not joking when I say that Koda's initial design took me almost eight hours- (I'm not a great (VERY SLOW)artist lol)

But, I do hope you enjoy this chapter! 

~-~-~-~

Cybertron's revival wasn't as magical as most thought. Especially with the ever constant threat of the Quintessions on the horizon.

Due to Sentinel's deal with the Quintessions and his lack of attention to bother with any sort of paperwork, Optimus had been swiftly overwhelmed with mountains upon mountains of datapads and paperwork since he'd become a Prime.

He dived into it helm first with no idea on how much work there even was. It was his own little secret that he kept to himself within the confines of Iacon's most central tower.

Usually Optimus had the Primes with him, chattering away and sorting through the tops of the piles, seeing as their ghost-like form didn't allow for much contact with the living world.

"What even is this?" Alchemist had managed to pick up a piece of paper, his optics flickering over its scribbles, "A declaration of peace across Cybertron's cities?"

"Let me see that!" Zeta demanded, stomping across the papers of the dark hall in Iacon's central tower. It'd long since passed into the cycle's night, and per usual, the lights went out just before midnight.

Alchemist slipped to the side as Zeta charged over to him. In his wake, papers that had slipped down onto the floor shifted slightly with his ghostly presence. Sitting up on a pile of datapads, Onyx gently polished his claw-like digits, "Oh here we go..." He mumbled quietly, shaking his helm as he awaited a tussle. From a beam that stretched across the hall overhead, sat Quintus, Vector and Micronus who all grunted at their brothers' words.

Zeta's optics flashed as he read the intangible paper, "This is ridiculous!! Everything about this treaty is wrong! Th-there's nothing correct about this scrap!" He tried to crumple up the paper but was unable to in his ghostly form. Instead he turned towards a tower of datapads, seeming to encircle a desk as a soft blue glow emitting from behind the precarious tower, "We've got another one that needs to be fixed, Optimus!"

"Aye," The blue-silver mech turned to face Megatronus who was sitting on the ledge of the counter across the hall, "He's got more than enough files to go through tonight, don't you think?" He leaned forward slightly, eyeing the dimly lit city below, "Could be morning at this point," He sighed, shaking his helm slowly, "Damn Sentinel for his reluctance to keep up with our paperwork. His, since he murdered us all and took the throne. Leave it to our little brother to clean up that slagger's mess..."

Now, since the Thirteen's sudden disappearance, Optimus was alone in this arduous task. In the gentle hum of the building's ventilation system, he thought he still heard them whispering.

"Put it...Somewhere," Came his muffled call from behind the stack of paper and datapads where he sat. He was in a too large desk, with piles stacked around him precariously, and slid a datapad all the way to the top of a rickey stack.

Optimus never did enjoy their rather boisterous company while he was working, but now, he missed their continuous chatter and silly arguments about organization. Primus, he even missed when Liege and Nexus played Cube with Amalgamous; who'd discovered he was able to float a while ago, though he never did find a way to truly control his power, thus leading to his brothers settling to use him for Cube.