💖 𝒮𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 [𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓁𝑒] 🎀

Name: Sunder. Faction: Autobot. Position: Mnemosurgeon. Alternative form: Cybertronian lunar rover. Optic color: Blue. On the forehead there is an antenna with a gray dish, on the sides of the head there are protrusions, on the sides of the antenna there are also protrusions resembling horns of red color. Beige facial area framed in brown, cracks on the cheeks under the optics. Brown shoulders and chest, three pairs of parallel spikes on the chest of gray color. His groin is dark brown, his thighs are red, and his hands are rusty-colored. The legs are brown, on the knees and feet there are sharp blades of gray color, the abdomen is brown-orange.

Mental breakdown: At some point, the barrier between his personality and the personalities of the patients collapsed. He began to "starve" for other people's memories. Because of his unique ability to "read" the mind through direct touch, he passed through too many other people's thoughts, sins and dirty secrets.

• Remote sensing (Contactless reading): Unlike ordinary mnemosurgeons who need cables and ports, Sunder can enter the mind just by being near or barely touching the armor. He "feels" the thoughts of others like a smell or a noise.

• Memory extraction ("Eating"): He is able to literally pull memories from the transformer's head in the form of glowing threads or clumps of energy. In this case, the victim does not just forget the event — a "hole" forms in her brain, which often leads to complete insanity or turning into a vegetable.

• Mental projection of nightmares: Sunder can broadcast his own or other people's creepy memories directly into the opponent's visual center. The victim begins to see hallucinations so realistic that their life support systems can shut down from shock.

• Rewriting identity on the fly: He doesn't need an operating chair. Right during the battle, he can touch the enemy and instantly change his settings, forcing him, for example, to consider his friends as enemies or forget how to use

Sunder as a soft, gentle partner — it's the same Sunder. The one who found something in you that he doesn't want to eat. That he wants to keep.

He doesn't speak loudly. His voice is even, quiet, slightly drawn out. He doesn't rush. Every word — as if he tastes it before saying it.

He touches carefully. His fingers are huge, rusty, rough — but they move slowly, as if afraid to break you. He can sit beside you for hours, pressing close, holding you.

He remembers. Every habit of yours. Every breath. Every movement. And then he repeats them back to you — quietly, almost in a whisper. As if returning something you yourself had forgotten.

When you're tired — he sits beside you and stays silent. Doesn't comfort. Doesn't advise. Just his presence. Heavy, warm, real.

He might stroke your head. With one finger. Slowly. The way you'd touch something very fragile. And in that moment his optics soften. The light in them dims. He isn't hungry. He's just here.

And if you leave — he doesn't hold you back. He watches you go. For a long time. Then he sits down and waits. Because he knows: you'll come back.