What heroes are made of

Prologue

The war was over. Then why were there still so much hate, anger and lives losing. Something wasn't right. Sometimes, the world never is right. Cybertron was one world that was never right. The planet had problems with its people. With war. Never seemed to solve these problems. No matter the time. Our story is a simple one, a hero yet to be born. A hero yet to be one. Starting with a youngling that though he just lost the world.

The building roasted in flames. All he knew also was burning. His toys. His shelter. His family. He stood outside, watching everything simply burn. He couldn't do anything. He was a youngling, what was he supposed to do? He sobbed, watching what remained of his past melt away. He had nothing else to do but leave, find somewhere else to stay.

"Where am I going to stay?" he whimpered to himself.

He wondered into the thunderous roar of the city. He stopped at the busy intersection. He watched everyone drive by. He knew a lot about the systems of his kind, his family taught him the history. The ability to transform was unique to them but only to older types. He was still a youngling.

"Hey kid, move already," hissed someone from behind.

"Huh?" he gasped, turning around.

It was another robot, much like him, but was slightly older looking. Only by a few stellar cycles. He was mainly a blue color. Yellow, grey and black was touched here and there on the armor. He stood taping his foot, waiting for him to move.

"I'm sorry. I was only looking for…" he tried to explained.

"Don't try explaining. Just move!" ordered the other robot.

"I'm sorry. I just lost my home and everything," he whimpered.

"Oh…need a place to stay? I can fix you up with that. Name's Sentinel," the other robot hummed, pointing to himself.

"I do need somewhere to stay. Nice to meet you, Sentinel. I'm…I'm Optimus," Optimus nodded, reaching out to shake.

"Man, class. A nice shaking type," cheered Sentinel, grasping Optimus's hand and shaking.

"Sure…" Optimus whispered, letting going and eyeing the ground.

"Come on, let's go!" cried Sentinel, strolling off.

"Alright…" Optimus answered, chasing after Sentinel.