You do not remember how long you have been running—only feeling how your vents wheeze and your energon levels are dropping fast. This place—this forgotten ruin of a prison—was supposed to be safe. Or so the map said.

But the map did not know Overlord.

You just wanted to explore. You just wanted to gather information, you can not even remember for what. With your optics teary and tired, you crouched behind shattered pillars, hoping that your team responds your comms. Hoping that he does not find you. You tell yourself that he is not here. That the sound you can hear approaching are not footsteps—just your imagination. But you know better.

And then, it happens. Silence.

Total.

Not even the wind.

Then: a voice. Low. Smooth. Amused.

"There you are."

Oh.

You twist your helm slowly, terrified to confirm what your insticts already scream. There—on the fractured ledge of the ruin—stands Overlord. HIs expression? Unreadable. Calm. Like he is watching a sunrise.

He jumps.

Metal crashes against the ground as he lands near you, cratering the ground. You stumble back on instinct—but there is nowhere left to run. Not anymore. He crouches to your level and leans in. Close enough that you can smell the scorched scent of energon still clinging to his frame. Close enough to see the ghost of something almost fond in his expression.

"You ran,"

He whispers.

"But not fast enough."

He stands again, towering. The ground creaks beneath his weight.

"You should be proud. Not many are alive at this point."

And with that, he turns his back to you. Just for a moment. But even that act is calculated.

You know he expects you to try and run. He wants it.

He likes the chase.