Mission. Abandoned underground megacomplex.

Deep beneath the surface. Old tunnels, built before the war.

The air was heavy. Not from smoke, but from pressure. The walls were too close. The ceiling was too low. The emergency lights were dim and flickering, casting long, distorted shadows.

It was a routine mission: The Decepticons were using an old underground hub as a temporary base and power core storage facility. The team was to clear the area and destroy the reactor.

You walked next to Prowl. Optimus led the way. Bulkhead covered the rear. Bumblebee and Ratchet were between you.

At first, everything was fine.

But the deeper you went… The narrower the corridors became.

The metal around you seemed to press against the hull. The sound of footsteps echoed strangely—muffled, as if the space itself were swallowing the sound.

You started feeling it before you even realized it.

First, a slight tension in the servos. Then, your breathing became slightly shorter. The hum of the systems accelerated unconsciously.

Prowl noticed first.

He didn't say anything out loud. He simply slowed his pace slightly, getting closer to you.

"Everything alright?" — he asked quietly, through the internal channel.

You could have lied. As always.

But you only nodded.

And then… it happened.

Avalanche.

Not an explosion. Not an attack. The old structures simply gave way.

A roar.

The grinding of metal. And part of the tunnel collapsed right behind your group.

Not a catastrophe. But…

The way back was blocked.

The corridor became even narrower.

And ahead, a section where the ceiling was so low that Bulkhead was forced to duck almost halfway.

The tunnel was shrinking.

And it was at that moment that your phobia truly awakened.

Not just fear. Not just anxiety.

But a primal, animalistic terror.

Fear of confined spaces. Fear of being trapped. Fear of having no escape.

Not just "claustrophobia." But deeper. Stronger.

Your mind remembered something. Old. Something you'd never told anyone about.

Mission. Blockage. You're alone. Silence. Metal pressing in from all sides.

Your body remembered, even if you tried to forget.

Systems started issuing warnings.

Overheating. Spark rhythm disturbance. Breathing cycle error.

You stopped.

Not because you wanted to. But because you couldn't take a step.

The walls were too close. The air seemed to thin. The corridor seemed to be moving. Constraining. Although, in reality, it wasn't.

But fear knew no logic.

"Y/N?" — Prowl's voice suddenly changed.

He turned around completely. He saw that you had frozen.

Your fingers trembled slightly. Your shoulders were tense. The optics are wide open, but they don't seem to focus.

"Hey..." — he came closer. Slowly. Not abruptly.

"Look at me."

He positioned himself so you could see him, not the walls.

"You're here. With me. You're not alone."

But you still couldn't breathe properly.

Your chest armor was rising too quickly. The hum of the systems faltered.

Optimus had already noticed the delay, but he didn't say anything—trusting Prowl.

And Prowl... He understood.

Not completely. But he understood it wasn't just fatigue.

"Are those the corridors?" — he said quietly. — "Do they make you feel bad?"

He didn't press. He didn't demand an answer. He just stood there.

Too close to the walls. Too crowded. Too much metal all around.

And your spark screamed only one thing:

RUN.

But there was nowhere to run.