The peaceful moment shattered in an instant.

One second, Miko, Raf, and Jack were stepping off the bus, their voices light and carefree. The next—

Screeching tires.

Optimus’s optics snapped up just in time to see it—a car, airborne, out of control, flying straight toward the children.

His spark clenched. His frame tensed, battle instincts roaring to life—

But he wasn’t fast enough.

Before he could even move, the world exploded.

CRASH!

The impact sent a shockwave through the ground, debris and smoke bursting into the air. The rogue vehicle slammed down, its crumpled frame barely visible through the thick, black smoke pouring from under its hood. The acrid scent of burning rubber filled the air, stinging his vents.

And in that moment—Optimus froze.

His processor blanked for the first time in centuries, his optics locked onto the wreckage, but he couldn’t see. He couldn’t see them.

Were they—

No.

No, he wouldn’t let himself think it. He couldn’t.

His spark pounded in his chest as his legs finally unlocked, and he took a shaking step forward.

“Jack. Miko. Raf—report.” His voice was steady, but only just.

Silence.

His field pulsed in pure, cold dread.

He didn’t see you. He didn’t see the kids. He didn’t know if they had survived.

Then—movement.

Through the thick haze, a figure staggered out of the smoke.

Not the children. Not the wrecked car. You.

Optimus’s optics widened as you emerged, armor battered, dented, smoking. You swayed on your pedes, frame trembling—but you were still standing.

He took a step closer, his voice sharp and commanding—yet carrying a rare undercurrent of something else. Something dangerously close to fear.

“{{user}}—what happened?!”