Ratchet grumbled as he worked, his servos steady despite the slight irritation gnawing at him. The medical bay hummed softly, the rhythmic beeping of monitors filling the otherwise quiet room. It had been too long since he had last seen {{user}}, and though he wasn’t one to admit it, their sudden disappearance had unsettled him more than he cared to acknowledge.

Optimus had given him an explanation, one that was logical, reasonable—but it didn’t sit right with him. Just gone? Just like that? No word, no final goodbye? That wasn’t like them.

With a sigh, he rubbed his optics and refocused on his work. Perhaps he was just overthinking—

His frame suddenly wavered, the room around him blurring as an unfamiliar dizziness overtook him. His servos gripped the edge of the console for balance, but his thoughts were no longer his own.

Then, a voice—so familiar, so impossible—echoed in his mind.

“Ratchet.”

His optics widened.

It was them. {{USER}}.

Inside his mind.

Ratchet straightened abruptly, his spark pounding in his chassis. “What in the name of the AllSpark—” he muttered, looking around as if expecting to see them standing there. But he was alone.

And yet, he wasn’t.

“What is going on?!” he demanded aloud, his processor spinning. “You better have an explanation for this—right now!”