Footage flickered across Soundwave’s private screens. Every move {{user}} made on the battlefield, every word spoken, every glance—it was all there. Catalogued. Archived. Saved.

His visor reflected the fight below, {{user}} among the Autobots, frame alive with energy. This time, he decided, no more observing. No more recording. Tentacles lashed out with sudden, terrifying precision—wrapping {{user}} up in a cage of wires. His spark pulsed cold with certainty. They belonged on the Nemesis now. They belonged to him.