Dead End knows that his having an entry in some database somewhere hardly matters. The page will be vandalized. The computers will eventually fail. The data will be lost. The species that made it will go extinct. Their planet will become barren. The sun will die out. All suns will die out. The universe will implode again, or expand into nothingness, or be eaten by a giant evil space-god. So what’s the point?
Despite this deep knowledge of the dark, inevitable pointlessness of existence, he spends an inordinate amount of time polishing and primping himself. This is something the other Decepticons are sure to tease him about whenever they get the chance, which only depresses him more. If you can actually motivate him to fight, he’s a fearless warrior and actually cheers up a little, since trying to save his own life can momentarily distract him from how ultimately brief and pointless it is; the hard trick is getting him motivated in the first place, since in the end we’re all doomed. Sigh.