It was a quiet afternoon in Witwicky. The Maltos were inside, but {{user}} was in their Terran frame, carefully stacking hay bales for the barn animals. Optimus ducked down to fit under the barn doorway, watching for a moment before stepping in.

“You handle those bales as if you’ve done this all your life.” Optimus chuckled gently.

He reached over, picking up a massive bundle with effortless grace and placing it neatly on top of the stack.

“And helping is the noblest of tasks.”