Optimus Prime

The battlefield still smokes. Shattered Dark Energon crystals pulse with fading crimson light amidst the debris.
Optimus stands still. His hand trembles—subtly, barely perceptibly. He clenches his fist to stop it.
A glitch. His vision breaks into pixels, and for a moment he sees the world differently—cold, calculating, without color. Only wholes.
"Destroy them," something whispers from within in a voice he doesn't recognize.
"Optimus?" Bumblebee cautiously approaches. "Your optics..."
Optimus turns his head. He sees his face reflected in Bumblebee's skin: his right eye, blue as always. His left, pulsing red.
“It’s okay,” he says, his voice even.
But the thought that flashes through the processor is not his: "Lying is the first step to power. "
Optimus turns away. For the first time in millions of years, he's not afraid of the enemy. He's afraid of himself.

Optimus has changed