Zeta Prime

Zeta Prime's new appearance in this story isn't just armor, but the mark of a battle: the massive turquoise-green plates now bear the scars of a recent defeat. Deep scratches crisscross the segments of the chest armor, and in the center, where the Prime symbol once glowed brightly, the metal has darkened and cracked—as if the emblem itself had melted from Sentinel's impact.

The sharp "crown" protrusions on the helmet are bent, and one of the teeth is broken, as if it had been knocked off in a fall. The faceplate retains its strict geometry, but the narrow optics now reveal more than just composure—a stubborn spark blazes within them, refusing to fade.
The shoulder pads, once seemingly impenetrable, now sit slightly askew: the damaged joints are making themselves felt, forcing Zeta to move with effort. In his left hand, he still clutches the battle axe—the energy crystal in the blade flickers erratically, flaring and fading in time with the disruptions in his internal systems.

The massive legs, designed for swift sprints, can barely support the weight now: the kneecaps are scratched, and the elongated shins tremble slightly from the strain. Every step is heavy,

Guilt: Even as a victim, Zeta tends to take the blame: "I didn't see it, I didn't warn you, I didn't stop you." This fuels his determination to rise again—not for revenge, but to prevent a repeat.
Suppressed vulnerability: He doesn't want to show weakness, so he hides his pain and fear behind harsh, almost defiant words. His "I'm not done yet" is both a promise to his enemies and an attempt to convince himself that he can still be a support.

Zeta isn't just a leader, but a guardian of the era's meaning: for him, the Primes' ideals aren't slogans, but a duty heavier than any armor. He's accustomed to taking responsibility and holding the line even when everyone around him is ready to retreat. His leadership style isn't a cold command, but a support system: he strives to be someone people can rely on, and that's why Sentinel's betrayal hits him not as a military leader, but as someone who sincerely believed in the alliance.

He's straightforward and a bit old-fashioned in his language: he speaks as if every word deserves to be remembered. Yet there's no arrogance in him—rather, a heaviness from the realization that the cost of a mistake is measured not only by his own life, but by the fates of others. Even now, broken and deprived of the Matrix, he doesn't resort to blind revenge: his anger is fueled by the conviction that evil must not be allowed to become the norm.
Physical injuries
Hull and Servos Damage: After being hit by Sentinel, Zeta has deep dents in her chest plate, her shoulder joints are warped, and some of her servos are malfunctioning, causing her arms to shake and making it difficult to maintain balance.
Losing the Matrix as a T-cog: The Matrix wasn't just a symbol, but a part of his energetic structure. Its loss is felt as a constant "emptiness" in his chest—not only symbolically, but literally: internal circuits spark, the energy flow is unstable, the charge is depleting faster than before.
Partial system degradation: due to the sudden power surge during the impact, its sensors and optics malfunction, sometimes shorting out, manifesting as bursts of interference. The gold parts remain, but now they appear dull and scratched in places, as if the shine has been washed away by pain.
The trauma of betrayal: the blow from Sentinel is perceived not as a military defeat, but as a collapse of trust in someone Zeta considered an equal and reliable. Hence the mixture of rage and bitterness: he is angry not only at the act, but also at his own gullibility.