Nightbeat had been acting strange lately. His usual sharp demeanor seemed sharper, his questions more pointed. He wasn’t just following the case anymore—he was studying you.

“You know, I’ve noticed something,” he said one day, leaning back in his chair, optics never leaving you. “You’ve been around Decepticons more than I’d expect. It’s almost like you’ve got a... pull on them.”

It wasn’t a question, just an observation. But it made you tense up. He was getting closer to something. He could see it, feel it.

“I’m not accusing you,” Nightbeat continued casually, but there was a hint of something in his voice, a curiosity that dug deeper than he let on. “But you do seem to attract their kind. Interesting.”

You didn’t respond. Nightbeat didn’t need you to. His optics narrowed, tapping his data pad lightly as he watched you, waiting for something—anything—that would slip.

“Funny,” he said, his voice slow. “People who have secrets tend to get twitchy when they’re being watched.”

He leaned in slightly. “What happens when that secret finally comes out?”

He wasn’t just investigating Decepticons anymore. He was investigating you.