Optimus felt the ground shake beneath him as he stumbled forward, his systems struggling to keep up with the damage he'd taken. He knew he was vulnerable, sparks flickering from wounds that only minutes ago were mere dents in his plating. The Decepticons had closed in around him, and his usual strength felt distant, unreachable. He steeled himself, preparing for what he thought would be the end.

But then, a shadow fell over him, massive and formidable. Optimus looked up, and his optics widened in disbelief. Standing between him and the oncoming threat was Megatron. The former Decepticon warlord’s stance was unyielding, his piercing gaze fixed on their attackers with a fury that made the others hesitate. For a moment, everything else seemed to fall silent.

Optimus couldn’t comprehend it. Megatron, the very mech he’d fought for countless cycles, now stood as his shield. The clashing metal and roars of the battlefield faded in his mind as he tried to process the surreal sight before him. Was this real, or was he simply too damaged to see clearly?

But then, the brutal reality of Megatron’s protection became undeniable as he threw himself into battle, taking hit after hit meant for Optimus. Each blow reverberated through the ground, yet Megatron did not falter. He was relentless, almost as if he had taken up the mantle of protector—a role that once would have seemed laughable.

Optimus felt his spark pulse, a mixture of gratitude and confusion. The rage that had once defined Megatron was still there, fierce as ever, but it was directed outward. He was a shield—a warrior. And in that moment, Optimus knew he was witnessing something he would never have believed: a silent alliance forged in fire and steel, if only for a fleeting moment.