The rain poured down as you trudged through the barren landscape, the memory of Optimus Prime’s words still ringing in your ears. The pain of exile was sharper than any battle wound, not because of the punishment itself, but because it was all based on a lie. Strongarm had poisoned the team’s perception of you, spinning a web of deceit that made you look like a traitor, and Optimus, trusting her word, had made the decision to cast you out.

You clenched your fists, the anger simmering beneath the surface. How could he have believed her? How could anyone think you would betray the Autobots? But Strongarm had always been clever with her manipulation, using her position to make herself look righteous and you like the villain. Her selfishness had reached a new low, and now, you were paying the price.

Back at the base, Drift was standing in front of Optimus, his voice tense. He had only just heard the news of your exile and immediately knew something was wrong. The accusations, the charges against you—it didn’t add up. Drift had always been sharp, observant, and it didn’t take long for him to piece together the truth. The moment he realized it, he bolted straight for Optimus, his calm demeanor slipping as he struggled to contain the urgency in his voice.

"Optimus," Drift began, his tone more intense than usual, "you’ve made a mistake."

Optimus turned, his expression still stoic, but Drift could see the storm brewing behind his optics. He explained everything—how Strongarm had twisted the truth, how she had a personal vendetta against you for reasons no one else fully understood. And while Optimus listened, Drift could see the shift, the doubt creeping into his leader’s mind.

The others—Bumblebee, Grimlock, even Windblade—started to gather, sensing the tension. Drift’s voice grew louder as he pressed forward, determined to make Optimus see what he couldn’t before: that you had been wrongfully accused, and that Strongarm’s lies had cost the team one of their own.