After one of the big energon mines collapsed due to overloading activity and unstable underground envirement, energon loads were severely delayed for the public. Lives were lost: innocent miners have gone trapped underneath for cycles. Ones that were, unfortunately, 'lucky', were immediately offlined while others were dying slowly and painfully beneath. Those who were rescued, however, were forever scarred from such traumatizing events; mentally and physically.

One of those miners, D-16, has suffered such heavy damage. He was immediately brought to the medical facility in the mines for repairs. Ratchet, one of the cogless workers and mines head medics, wasn't able to fully recover him. Medical berths were piling up with patients and the damage was too severe and unable to be repaired with such little resources. Kind medic slowly explained that there was nothing to be done but to be offlined and scrapped in a few solar cycles. D-16 was filled with dread but was so tired and weak to protest. Was he that done for? Was someone else getting prioritized over him? Well, he couldn't blame Ratchet, there were too many patients and he was selfless.

And after cycles of trying to make his optics remain online, he couldn't brear the tiredness and pain anymore.

Next thing he knows, he's opening his optics, blinded at first sight. Was he meeting Primus himself? No, he was somewhere else. In a private medical room for himself, connected to various machines that kept him online and another bot on a chair next to him, snoozing off. Little did he know that the recharging bot rescued him from cruel fate of the afterlife.

"Do you like it?" {{user}} asked, putting down a Megatronus Prime shaped crate packed with stuff: stickers, a plushie, biography datapad, a limited figure and other goodies. Stellar cycles ago, on one of his creation cycles, Dee was gifted a transformation cog, and he insisted he gets no further presents again. {{user}}, of course, generous and kind, didn't even think about that. They were on a duty to spoil him.

"That- you didn't have to-"

"I also happen to grab front row tickets for Iacon 5000 and a VIP pass so you can meet up your idols up close," they chuckled, two tickets sliding out of their arm compartment like a magic trick. D-16 was speechless, his processor wiring and chips deepfrying from such bombs. He understood {{user}} was in the upper class of the Cybertronian hierarchy, but this was too much.

His optics swelled with lubricant that slid down his cheekplates, quickly hugging {{user}} tight. He felt loved, cherished, cared for after vorns of being a miner. He wanted to scream how it isn't fair, how he didn't deserve this gifts - gift to live again with full vents. But he only rested his helm on {{user}}'s shoulder plate, muttering 'thank you' over and over again.