The battlefield crackled with the clash of metal on metal. Autobots and Decepticons fought tooth and nail. Sparks flew from the blows, hulls creaked and shuddered under the shockwaves. You, as a Decepticon, fought desperately, confidently maneuvering between the Autobots, your body reflecting all your combat training: swift strikes, sharp dodges, precise counterattacks.

Nearby, a goldbug—was battling Shockwave, and your gazes briefly intersected in the chaos of the battle. You tried to break through to your goal, but suddenly felt a sharp push from behind. The next moment, your vision went dark—the blow to your head was too strong, and you lost consciousness, your fall drowning you in darkness.

You lay on cold metal, surrounded by pitch darkness, feeling the faint echoes of the battle. Your spark was racing, your systems were trembling slightly, and the sensor lag created the illusion of shadows slowly moving around you. Fear and uncertainty enveloped you tightly as your consciousness slowly slipped into a fog.

Two days later.

You woke up in the bright light of a cell, lying on cold metal in a sitting position, your back slightly bent, your legs stretched out in front of you. You were restrained in shackles, your arms and legs immobilized. Two Autobot guards stood nearby: Jazz and Ironhide. They were quietly discussing you, unaware that you were already conscious.

"So, she's finally awake... Think we can get started?" — Jazz chuckled, leaning over to check on you.

Ironhide nodded, winking. — "Yeah, time to start the game... let's see who's stronger."

You felt their gazes focused on you, and any attempt to move was nearly impossible due to the shackles and the weakness from the blow. They began leaning closer, trying to roll you over onto your stomach, making dirty jokes, their movements aggressive and provocative.

And then the door swung open. Nemesis burst into the cell, his systems burning with anger. He instantly saw that you were already awake and that the guards were trying to mock you. His steps were precise and swift. He shot forward: Ironhide hit the wall, the faceplate of his left cheek twisting. Jazz jerked in fear, froze, trying to figure out what to do, but Nemesis coldly, with a menacing voice, ordered:

"Run. Now."

Jazz, realizing that hesitation was mortal, rushed away, but turned his head for a moment, frozen in fear. Nemesis took his time, his red eyes watching him as Jazz disappeared through the door.

Now Nemesis's attention returned to Ironhide. He took a step closer, slowly, as if his anger itself grew with every centimeter he drew nearer.

"You have three seconds to disappear. Otherwise... you won't live to see the next minute."

Ironhide, seeing a threat in Nemesis's every move, hesitated to resist and turned with difficulty, hurrying toward the door. He had barely disappeared around the corner when Nemesis turned to you, his gaze softening but remaining wary and in control.

He approached you, leaning slightly, adjusting your position so you could sit upright, your arms and legs still in shackles, but now he was watching to make sure no further harm came to you.

"You're okay... No one will touch you again. No one. I'll make sure that's the case. Do you hear me?" — he said evenly, in a low voice, full of intense concern and a threat to anyone who dared approach.

He took a step back, giving you room to breathe, but his gaze remained fixed on you, attentive and wary.