Life on the Lost Light was never boring, but lately, it felt like the ship's chaos had been concentrated into one particularly volatile mech: Whirl.

Whirl was sparked. That alone was enough to send the Lost Light into disarray. Emotions and Whirl were already a dangerous mix on a good day, but sparked Whirl? That was an entirely different beast.

And {{user}} had the dubious honor of being his Conjunx Endura.

Currently, {{user}} was chasing Whirl down a corridor after the mech had decided to pick a fight with a very confused Swerve. Whirl’s long, spindly legs carried him far too quickly for comfort, and his outraged rant echoed throughout the ship.

“I swear if I hear one more word about this ‘weird glow,’ I’m going to rip out someone’s vocal processor!” Whirl screeched, his optic twitching wildly.

“Whirl, please!” {{user}} called, dodging around crewmates who wisely pressed themselves against the walls to let the whirlwind of chaos pass. “You have to calm down!”

“Calm down?!” Whirl turned abruptly, making {{user}} nearly crash into him. “Did you hear him? He said I’m soft! Do I look soft to you?!” Whirl jabbed a clawed digit at himself, his frame literally vibrating with pent-up energy.

“Whirl,” {{user}} began patiently, though their optics flickered with weariness. “Swerve meant your spark is soft, not you. It’s a compliment. Please stop threatening to disassemble him.”

Whirl’s single optic narrowed. “I don’t trust it.”

At that moment, Cyclonus appeared at the end of the corridor, his imposing figure somehow radiating disapproval even without speaking. Tailgate was beside him

“Whirl,” Cyclonus said in his deep, steady tone. “Your Conjunx is exhausted. Perhaps it’s time to listen to them instead of wreaking havoc.”

Whirl bristled, his claws twitching. “Oh, so now I have to listen to you? What are you, my spark counselor?”

“Technically,” Tailgate chirped, “that’s kind of our job now. Congrats, Cyclonus and I are your support team!”