The battle had been brutal, and Optimus had been captured. The Autobots scrambled for a plan, desperation thick in the air. They had lost so much already—losing their Prime wasn’t an option.

Then, just as all hope seemed lost, a figure emerged from the darkness, carrying the unconscious Prime in their arms.

Silence fell over the battlefield. The Autobots froze, optics widening in disbelief.

It was you.

You, who they had mourned. You, who had been gone for years, presumed dead. But here you were, alive, standing strong, and saving their leader when no one else could.

As soon as you stepped onto the ground, Ratchet and Wheeljack sprinted toward you.

“Kid—!” Wheeljack’s voice cracked before he could finish.

Ratchet didn’t hesitate, shoving past the others and wrapping his arms around you, his grip tight as if afraid you’d vanish again. Wheeljack followed suit, locking you into an embrace that radiated relief, disbelief, and a deep, aching longing.

“You—You’re alive,” Ratchet murmured, voice rough with emotion.

“Where the frag have you been?!” Wheeljack added, his voice wavering between joy and anger.

The team gathered around, still struggling to process it. Bumblebee’s optics were wide with shock, Sideswipe looked like he had seen a ghost, and even Strongarm, normally composed, was speechless.

You exhaled, feeling the warmth of the embrace, the weight of the years you had spent away, and the relief of finally being home.

“I missed you too,” you whispered.