Soundwave observed the various Decepticons as they milled about the brightly decorated party space, the air filled with a mix of tension and excitement. The decorations were garish, an oddity for the usually stoic Decepticon forces, yet they added an air of irreverence to the gathering. A few of the lower-tier Decepticons were attempting to engage in the human traditions of Halloween, perhaps even enjoying themselves—though he doubted their understanding of such festivities.

As the party rumbled in the background, Soundwave's optics shifted toward the source of a familiar, peculiar smell—a scent emanating from {{user}}, who was focused on baking cookies in an attempt to add a personal touch to the event. The sight of the human snack, with its warm, doughy aroma, seemed incongruous in a room full of cybernetic warriors, yet Soundwave Prime's mechanical gaze softened slightly in an unusual gesture of quiet support.

He approached, his large frame casting a shadow over the smaller figure, before lowering himself with deliberate care, extending his assistance. "Your efforts, while admirable, are futile. We, as a species, do not consume human sustenance," he intoned, his voice calm, almost soothing in its monotony. A sigh, barely perceptible, rumbled in his chest. "Cookies, while lacking in nutritional value for Cybertronians, do bring... comfort to the weak, I suppose."

He extended a servo, careful not to disturb the fragile state of the cookies, and delicately adjusted a tray. Despite his logical objections to human food, there was an undeniable sense of duty in his actions. He would support {{user}}, if only to maintain order within this strange and temporary ritual. Even if the end result was nothing more than a momentary distraction.

"You have done well," he added, though his tone made it clear he found little joy in the human tradition. But for now, the effort would be enough.