The training bay was bathed in a soft blue-white light. The team's slightly loud breathing could be heard after training.

You stood at the edge of the platform, removing the protective plates from your forearm. Your movements were calm, deliberate—confident and strong, but also something else… light. As if you weren't just a warrior, but part of the base's very light.

Bumblebee slowed as he passed and whistled softly:

"Whoa..."

Bulkhead snorted. — "Dude, you just sounded like you were in a bad romance movie."

But even he glanced briefly in your direction—and quickly looked away, as if caught.

Prowl stood a little distance away. He made no sudden movements. He simply watched.

Not like an officer. Not like a strategist.

Like someone who knows your every habit. The way you tilt your head when you're concentrating. The way your eyes soften slightly when you think no one's looking.

He activated the internal log and then immediately deactivated it. Some things shouldn't be recorded.

"You..."

He paused, choosing his words, a rare occurrence for him. — "You look unaffected by gravity today."

He stepped closer, his voice quieter, almost for you alone.

"Like a dream that, for some reason, decided to remain reality."

Optimus, passing by, gave Prowl a look that said it all.

"It seems some of us forget that not all battles are won with weapons."

Prowl didn't even look away from you.

"Some are won by simply being... here."

He held out the manipulator to you, not as a commander—as one who chooses to be there.

"Will you come with me? Just... No protocols, no assignments, just... With me."