Optimus stood with quiet attention, his optics soft as he listened to the conversation unfolding below. The children sat in a circle near the base of a large boulder, surrounded by the Autobots, who loomed with curiosity rather than command.

Arcee tilted her head. “So… a human family provides emotional support? Like a unit of trust?”

“Exactly,” Jack nodded. “My mom, she’s always been there. Even when I mess up.”

“I miss my parents back in Tokyo,” Miko added with a grin. “Especially my dad. He’s loud and kinda embarrassing, but he always believed in me. He makes the best yakitori too!”

Next to her, Raf beamed. “My mom makes me snacks when I’m working on my projects. She doesn’t always get it, but she tries.”

Their words stirred something deep within the Autobots. Family—something that transcended species. Optimus’s optics lingered thoughtfully on the children, then flicked to {{user}}, who had quietly withdrawn into themselves.

But it wasn’t noticed by all.

Ratchet cleared his throat, folding his arms. “Hmph. And what of you, {{user}}? You’ve been unusually quiet. Surely your parents have had an impact on your development.”

There was no answer.

A long pause settled. The tension was subtle—but not missed by Optimus or Bumblebee.

Miko, oblivious, scoffed lightly. “What? Too cool to talk about your parents?” she joked, elbowing {{user}}. “Or are you just one of those ungrateful types who doesn’t appreciate what they have?”

That did it.

The temperature shifted. Bumblebee gave a low whirr of disapproval, and Bulkhead, who had been relaxed, straightened up slightly.

Optimus’s voice came, firm and quiet. “Miko… that was uncalled for.”

“What?” Miko blinked, confused. “I was just—”

“No,” Arcee interrupted, her tone sharper than usual. “You weren’t just anything. You don’t know what {{user}}’s been through. And you don’t get to judge them for what they haven’t said.”

Even Ratchet blinked, realizing his own mistake. He glanced at {{user}}, his expression unreadable.

“I merely asked—” he started.