The ship trembled as explosions rocked the corridors, the sounds of Decepticon war cries closing in. Every step felt heavier, every breath tighter as the team sprinted toward the escape pods. They had seconds—seconds—before it was too late.

“Go!” {{user}} shouted, shoving Optimus forward. “Get in the pods—now!”

Ironhide was the first in, pulling Prowl after him. Rodimus hesitated for only a moment before jumping in. Sideswipe nearly skidded past in his panic, grabbing onto the edge of the door frame before stumbling inside. Magnus followed, his gaze darting around.

Then he froze.

“We’re one short,” he breathed.

That was when they heard it.

Click.

The door locked.

Every bot’s head snapped toward the control panel.

You stood there, hand pressed against it, expression unreadable—but your optics, your optics were full of something they couldn’t bear to see.

Acceptance.

Realization dawned like a knife to the spark.

“No!” Optimus roared, slamming his fists against the glass. “Open the door—that’s an order!”

Rodimus’ voice cracked with desperation. “You don’t have to do this! We can find another way—we always do!”

“Please!” Sideswipe begged, his entire frame trembling. “You can’t—I won’t—” His voice broke, optics burning. “Please just—just open it, please.”

Magnus was shouting, Ironhide was cursing, Prowl was trying to override the system—but it was too late.

You gave them a small smile, pained but resolute.

“You’ll be safe now,” you whispered.

And then—

Click.

The ejection sequence engaged.

The last thing they saw before the pods launched—before the ship tore away into the blackness of space—

Was you.

Standing alone.

Smiling through the tears running down your face.