Blaster fire illuminated the darkened battlefield, the scent of scorched metal thick in the air. Optimus Prime had no reason to linger—his mission was clear, his objective secured. And yet… something stopped him.

A lone mech, fighting with raw determination, their frame battered but refusing to yield. Surrounded by Decepticons, outnumbered, outgunned—yet they stood, cutting through enemies with a grace that belied exhaustion.

Optimus felt something unfamiliar flicker in his processor, a deep, unshakable sense of recognition. He didn’t know from where or why, but his spark clenched at the sight of them. An old friend? A comrade he’d forgotten? A family member lost to time?

His thoughts had no time to catch up to his body. His servos clenched, his frame shifted, and before he even realized it—he was running. Running toward the chaos, toward them.

If he could bring them back… if he could save them…

Perhaps the Autobots weren’t as alone in this war as they thought.