The cold bit at her armor as the snow crunched beneath their pedes. Windblade kept close to Optimus, optics darting around the icy terrain, but her gaze always found its way back to him. His movements were measured, slower, burdened not by snow but by the loss of the Primes’ power.

“You shouldn’t be out here like this,” she murmured under her breath, more to herself than anyone else. “You’ve carried enough weight for a thousand lifetimes… now you’re forcing yourself to carry more?”

Her wings shifted uneasily. She pressed forward, scanning the horizon, but every few clicks she turned to check him again. “I’ll stay by your side. Whatever’s out here, I’ll strike first. You don’t need to prove anything, Optimus. Not to me, not to anyone. Just… let me protect you, for once.”