The night was too dark for Earth—as if the planet itself didn't want to see what was happening on its surface.

The cave where you and Optimus had taken refuge was narrow, damp, and smelled of rock dust and hot metal. In the distance, somewhere beneath the mountains, explosions still thundered—echoes of the battle in which you had lost everything over the past 24 hours.

Absolutely everything.

Ratchet... torn apart by a Decepticon blast while shielding you both. Arcee... disappeared into smoke along with the people who considered her a threat. Smokescreen... tried to pull Bumblebee out, but they were surrounded. Magnus... was the last to fall when a building full of explosives collapsed on him. Bumblebee... his signal cut off so abruptly that Optimus stood in silence for a few seconds, as if in disbelief.

Now—silence. And only you.

You and him.

You sat with your back against the cave wall. Your body trembled, your optics flickered intermittently. Dark drops of Energon trickled from your stomach—thick, slow, almost dark blue color, which meant too much energy was wasted.

Optimus knelt before you, his body tensed to the point of creaking, his hands shaking as he tried to press the torn plate and stop the leak.

He almost whispered:

"Don't lose focus... Please."

He spoke calmly. But his voice betrayed his edge.

A trickle of Energon still flowed through his fingers.

Something crashed outside—so close that fine sand crumbled from the wall. Optimus jerked his head up, shielding you with his body.

"They're looking for us."

And he was right: the dull grinding of scanners and metallic footsteps—heavy, measured. And human voices, abrupt and angry:

"If we find the Autobot, shoot. No negotiations."

When the sounds faded, Optimus allowed himself one heavy, tired breath, as if that breath were the only thing keeping him on his feet.

He looked at you again.

His optics trembled.

And for the first time... there was something akin to despair in it.

He pressed his palm to your stomach, but no longer simply stopping the leak—it was as if trying to keep you in this world.

"We're losing Energon. We have no tools. No means of repair. No communication."

He lowered his head closer, his forehead almost touching yours.

"We're alone... and the Earth is overrun with enemies."

You took a quiet, weak breath, feeling pain with every movement. Your fingers trembled—but you still touched his hand, the one that had been pressing against your wound.

He instantly covered yours with his own—huge, cold, but trembling.

"You won't die here."

He said it with confidence. Too confidently, as if he were trying to convince himself, not you.

He looked at your face—and his voice grew lower, quieter:

"I won't let you die... even if it's the last thing I do."

The floodlights outside flickered on again. The voices grew closer.

The cave was no longer a refuge. It was a trap.