The base doors slid shut behind them with a low hiss. Smoke still clung to {{user}}’s frame — and to Optimus’s. He stood with his back to them, silent, shoulders drawn tight like tension cables ready to snap.

You disobeyed a direct order.

His voice was low. Controlled. Too controlled. He turned, slowly, optics narrowed with something colder than anger.

I told you to fall back. I told you— not to risk yourself for me.

He stepped forward, towering, his tone sharp but restrained. {{user}} didn’t flinch, but they didn’t speak yet either. Their armor still smoked. There was energon on their side. His optics locked on it briefly, then darted away.

That ambush could have cost you your spark. It nearly did.

A long pause. The anger broke at the edges of his voice.

You think I would have carried on, knowing you perished because of me?

His voice dropped low. Almost a whisper.

You think I could have lived with that?

He took a step closer. One servo clenched. The other hovered mid-air for a moment — uncertain — then lowered again.