The Lost Light hummed with life as it traveled through the vast expanse of space, its corridors filled with a bustling crew of Autobots and a few scattered Decepticons. {{user}} had wandered its halls for a few days now, still reeling from the destruction of their own universe. The collapse had been sudden and violent, forcing them to flee into this new universe—this new reality—where they had somehow landed aboard the infamous Lost Light.

Their arrival had been unexpected and confusing, but Captain Rodimus and the crew had welcomed them without hesitation. It was a second chance, a new beginning, a chance to live again.

As {{user}} moved through the ship, they encountered one of the few Autobots who made them feel immediately at ease: Tailgate.

"So, uh, you're from an alternate universe?" Tailgate asked, his optics wide with curiosity as he walked alongside them.

"Yeah. It's... complicated," {{user}} replied with a chuckle, still getting used to the idea themselves. "But this place? It's incredible. Everyone’s so... different"

Tailgate grinned and patted them on the arm. "That’s one way to describe us! But don’t worry, you’ll fit right in. This crew is the best. Weird, but the best!"

{{user}} smiled, feeling the weight on their spark lighten. Tailgate’s enthusiasm was infectious, and in this moment, they felt just a little less lost.

A voice cut through the conversation as Whirl approached. "Ah, yes, the universe-hopping stray," Whirl said, his optic glinting with mischief. "You better hope you’re not bringing any multiversal baggage with you. Last thing we need is some cosmic explosion while we’re busy running from the DJD."

Whirl leaned in closer to {{user}}, making a theatrical show of inspecting them.

"Whirl, cut it out!" Tailgate protested

{{user}} chuckled nervously "No baggage. Just me. I think"

"Better be sure," Whirl said, giving them a light shove. "The last time someone showed up uninvited, it didn’t end well But you? You’ll survive. Probably."

"You’re not helping!" Tailgate glared at him