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Once upon a time Orion Pax dreamed of nothing more than being able to walk through the front door of the Hall of Archives, but now that Optimus Prime had a chance he found himself casually transforming his servo to and from his axe and wondering if this was the best idea. If only I could still fit in the vents , Optimus thought to himself. Unfortunately the t-cog and Matrix in his chest had both reformatted him so much to make that impossible. If Optimus wanted to return to the Archives he had to do it through the front door, and that meant dealing with mechs he had never met.
Optimus could handle talking with his fellow former miners since becoming a prime. They would simply talk to him by name, crack jokes like they used to, and happily walk into his office without knocking like they were still living in their communal apartment. To Jazz he was still a friend, to Elita he was still an annoyance, and to the others he was still a mech they could regularly trounce on arcade cabinets. The problem was bots he didn’t know kept treating him so reverent. He could feel The Thirteen pulsing in agreement, irritated at what Sentinel’s lies had done to the title of Prime.
This is important , Optimus thought to himself as he pushed through the doors of the Archives. This was part of him making sure that no one could ever be fooled again, and that was worth a bit of discomfort. It seemed like he wasn’t the only one uncomfortable though, because the moment he stepped through the doors one of the two bots in the reception area gasped loudly and tried to hide behind her coworker.
“Hello,” Optimus said, “I am Optimus Prime. Elita said she called in advance about my visit today.”
“Yes sir! Well sort of sir. She said you would be coming but she didn’t tell us why.” The bot sighed and shook her head, “I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Glyph, he is Tap-Out. What can we get for you today?”
Optimus said “I apologize in advance for the large request. I would like a copy of every holo made in the past fifty cycles, as well as any older holos that were edited in the past fifty cycles. I want to fact check everything written under Sentinel’s rule with what is in here,” he paused and tapped the glass on his chest covering the Matrix of Leadership. “The less propaganda about bots being born without cogs the better Cybertron will be for it."
“That feels like a task below a prime,” Glyph replied.
Optimus felt a pulse of warmness coming from the Matrix. “Alpha Trion cared about history, and so do I. The fact Sentinel felt otherwise was his own undoing.”
Glyph’s visor twinkled slightly before she straightened her stance and replied. “Alright sir, fifty cycles of data coming right up! Fair warning, some of it is glitchy.”
“I am aware,” Optimus said, thinking back to the skipping holo that got him caught last time he visited the archive, “Just be sure to code me in as an authorized visitor, I don’t feel like jumping out of a window today.”