Tracking the faint Decepticon signal, Prowl moved silently through the darkened streets until he intercepted {{user}} mid-flight down a side path. He stepped directly into their way, arms folding before his hips shifted into a firm stance. “You’ve reached the end of your escape,” he said coolly, visor glinting. “I will catch you, Decepticon. You can either turn back now, or I’ll make you.” His tone carried no bravado—just the certainty of someone who had already decided the outcome.