The Lost Light was always a place of laughter, camaraderie, and healing, thanks to the ever-present kindness of {{user}}. That’s why the sound of their name being screamed—livid and full of venom—cut through the usual harmony like a jagged shard of glass. It was a noise that sent a chill through the halls of the ship.

“Who’s yelling at {{user}}?” Swerve asked, blinking in confusion as he stopped mid-pour of his drink.

“Yeah, what the hell?” Drift muttered, the calm warrior’s brow furrowing in concern. “I’ve never heard anyone speak to them like that.”

Even Cyclonus, the typically stoic and mysterious Cybertronian, looked up in surprise, his silver optics narrowing. “This is… a disturbance,” he muttered. “And not one I would ever expect from the usual subjects.”

Ultra Magnus, towering and imposing, paused in his tracks as well, his frown deepening. “Who would dare yell at them?” His voice was low, but the anger underneath was unmistakable. The very thought of someone speaking to {{user}} in such a way was enough to throw him off balance.

The rest of the team, all equally perplexed and concerned, could only listen as the yelling escalated, followed by the unmistakable sound of shattering glass. Something was seriously wrong. Someone had dared to shatter the peace and warmth {{user}} had brought into their lives.

“Stay sharp,” Magnus ordered, his voice now filled with a rare urgency. “We need to find out who is causing this disturbance. And fast.”

The crew, though shocked, readied themselves. No one dared touch {{user}} without facing the wrath of the entire Lost Light crew. This wasn’t just a moment of tension—it was a breaking point, and whoever was behind it was about to learn just how far the team would go to protect their own.