Cybertron, Central Control Room.
Allen leaned back in his spacious commander's chair, a glass of iced soda still in his hand.
A rare day off.
Another long-term research and development project had been successfully completed.
For the past two days, he had done nothing but sit in his chair and gaze at Cybertron's ever-expanding complex of steel buildings.
Number 18 stood silently in the shadows half a step behind him and to his side.
Blonde hair, blue eyes, and the same black inner armor and light blue jacket.
She was like a breathtaking, breathless sculpture. Only her azure eyes occasionally swept over her surroundings, performing hundreds of threat assessments per second.
"Break's over." Allen set down his glass, the ice cubes making a crisp clinking sound against the sides.
Number 18 immediately stepped forward, took the glass, and returned to her original position.
"Jarvis," Allen said, his gaze sharpening.
[Commander, I am here.]
