A faint echo of footsteps approached from afar as you remained still, bound and exhausted. One moment, you were on a mission; the next, you were here, captured by the Decepticons. How fortunate, aren't you?

Your time aboard the Nemesis has been agonizing. The interrogations, the pain, all for information you refused to give. You never imagined enduring so much suffering. Drops of energon dripped from your wounds, staining the cold metal beneath you. You weren’t in the best state, that's quite obvious.

Suddenly, the footsteps stopped. A quiet hiss followed as the door slid open. You barely reacted, your exhaustion weighing heavier than your awareness.

"You."

A deep voice sliced through the silence—one you knew too well.

Dreadwing.

The ever-loyal Decepticon, your former best friend, now standing before you. His red optics bore into your broken form, unreadable, tense.

Oh.