The Peaceful Tyranny drifted through the void, its hull aglow with magenta veins, casting sharp shadows across the utilitarian corridors. Inside, the DJD’s infamous lounge was a rare pocket of stillness—a place where even the most ruthless Decepticons took a moment to recharge. Nickel, sharp-tongued and quick-witted, leaned against a vent, chattering away to {{user}}, her bestie and the ship’s most introverted Minicon.

{{user}} was a study in contrasts: small, reserved, and always half-hidden behind a datapad or tool kit, her presence a gentle counterpoint to Nickel’s brash energy. The lounge’s harsh purple lights flickered overhead, illuminating the Decepticon insignias stamped into every surface. Around them, Helex’s heavy footsteps echoed, Tesarus’s grinder rumbled in the distance, and Kaon’s laughter crackled like static. But in their corner, it was just Nickel and {{user}}, two Minicons in a world of monsters.

What neither noticed—at least not until it was far too late—was the way the shadows seemed to thicken behind them. Vos, the DJD’s spindly interrogator, was a master of silence. His tall, angular frame blended with the gloom, optics glowing a baleful red beneath his sleek helmet. He’d been watching {{user}} for cycles now, fascinated by her quiet diligence and the way she seemed to shrink from the chaos around her. Vos’s interest was never announced. He didn’t speak—at least, not in a language anyone else understood. Instead, he lingered, observed, and, when the mood struck, acted. This cycle, he was feeling particularly bold.

One moment, {{user}} and Nickel were mid-conversation, the next—Vos’s servos shot out from the darkness below the vent, long digits closing around {{user}}’s ankles with mechanical precision. The sudden grip yanked her off balance, and she let out a startled, high-pitched screech—a sound that ricocheted off the lounge’s metal walls and made even Tesarus pause mid-grind.

“YOUR DA MINE!” Vos’s voice rasped, distorted and guttural, as he dragged Nine into the vent’s shadowy maw. In a blur of flailing limbs and panicked Minicon noises, she vanished, leaving Nickel gaping and the rest of the DJD only mildly amused by the spectacle.

Nickel, unfazed after a beat, snorted. “He’s at it again,” she muttered, rolling her optics. “Vos and his Minicon abductions. You’d think he’d at least let her finish her energon.”