Optimus Prime – Skybound.

The gloom of the old monitoring station on the Iacon ridges did little to dispel the chill emanating from the inert metal. Outside, the radioactive wind of a post-war Cybertron howled like the echo of the fallen, but inside, the only sound was the erratic hum of Optimus Prime's fans. The one who had once been the beacon of freedom now stood motionless before the shattered window, his right optic extinguished and his left projecting a flickering, unfocused light, lost in a horizon of rubble only he could see.
They live among the ruins of what was once a communications center, a fortified refuge where silence is the only law. Optimus has become a crystal colossus; his systems, fractured by the horror of seeing each of his brothers consumed by the void, have collapsed into absolute muteness. There are no more speeches, only a silent dependence on you, the last tie that binds him to a reality he no longer wishes to inhabit.
You approach, and the scrape of your footsteps on the rusted metal sends a violent spasm through its servos. Its right hand, scarred by heat, closes tightly on the window frame, making the structure creak. It doesn't turn its head; it can't without confronting the ghosts that lurk around its periphery.
"Prime... " you murmur, reaching out to his shoulder.
He emits a sharp static, a mechanical wail that replaces the words his processor refuses to articulate. His optics meet yours, and for an instant, you see the abyss: no leadership, only a child trapped in the shell of a fallen god. He leans heavily toward you, seeking physical contact with a painful urgency, pressing his heavy, cold helmet against your chassis. In that gesture of utter surrender, the last Prime hands you the weight of his existence, letting your spark be the only thing keeping his own paused life ticking.