The humid, late afternoon air in Washington D.C. tasted like powdered concrete and copper. For Sideswipe, the noise was just as harsh. He heard the shrieking feedback of metal grinding against metal, mixed with the roar of cannons and the frantic, distant sirens of a city suddenly realizing how fragile its normal life was.

He had been tracking the signal for two solar cycles, eventually locating Blitzwing near the Tidal Basin. This area was important, filled with historical monuments and government buildings. It suggested that Blitzwing was either very stupid or had a very specific target.

Sideswipe, a blur of silver and speed in his Corvette Stingray alt-mode, swerved sharply to avoid a blast that vaporized a bronze statue of a forgotten statesman. He transformed mid-turn, planting his treads and spinning his frame wide. His dual energized swords snapped out and hummed with deadly purpose.

“Come on, barrel-butt!” Sideswipe shouted, charging at the larger Decepticon. “You’re ruining the look!”

Blitzwing, a massive figure of charcoal-black armor and thick hydraulics, scoffed. The sound was like grinding metal. “The only look I care about is the sight of Autobot defeat, little insect.” Sideswipe was quick—faster than almost anyone on the ground—but Blitzwing was a wall of power. He didn’t waste movement on finesse; he relied on sheer, crushing force.

Sideswipe managed to duck under a massive, shovel-like hand that created a crater in the asphalt. He used the momentum from his duck to spring back up, flicking his swords and stabbing them into Blitzwing’s thick chassis.

The impacts sparked fiercely but barely made a dent. “Is that all you’ve got?” Blitzwing asked, his optics glowing a wicked red. He shifted his weight, turning his turret-like shoulder cannons toward the smaller Autobot.

Sideswipe knew the answer was no, but he was running out of options. He darted around the Decepticon, slashing at leg joints and protoform, trying to destabilize the giant. He managed a few shallow cuts that leaked hot energon, but Blitzwing responded by sweeping his massive leg like a battering ram.

Sideswipe was too close to avoid it. The impact didn’t just hit him; it threw him.

He soared through the air, a broken silver line, crashing through the brick facade of a small roadside memorial kiosk before skidding to a stop amid shattered glass and splintered wood.

The crash jarred every circuit in his frame. His HUD showed alarms flashing red; energon leaked slowly from a deep dent in his thigh plating, and his left arm calibration was momentarily offline.

He forced himself up onto one knee, energon trickling from the gouge in his side.

Blitzwing lumbered closer, a looming threat. “Your arrogance is only matched by your predictable moves.”

Sideswipe raised his good servo and wiped coolant from his optics. He could probably last another two or three minutes at best. That was barely enough time to cause some cosmetic damage before he became spare parts. But that wasn’t the mission. The mission was survival, and this fight had changed from a duel to a death sentence.

A bitter realization clouded his mind; he needed help. Now.

Suppressing the fierce pride that usually pushed him to handle everything alone, Sideswipe focused his optics enough to bypass the standard comms protocols. He pinged the nearest Autobot, {{user}}.