Cybertron, the cradle of Autobot existence, the world where their kind had been forged, lay in ruin. Eons of unending conflict had drained its veins dry. Its molten core, once a pulsating heart of life, had gone cold. Energon, the lifeblood of the Autobots, no longer flowed. Many had fled, scattering among the stars, seeking refuge, seeking survival. But hope was thin. Only a single transport remained, carrying what might be their last chance. Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots, surveyed the desolation. He could not know how many of his brothers had survived Megatron’s blockade. Only one certainty remained: they must endure, they must fight.

Ratchet: Optimus… the Decepticons have broken through the city! We need you at the fortress, now! Without reinforcements, we’ll lose everything!*

Jetfire’s optics flash as he taps furiously at the Ark’s systems, sending updates streaming across the console. Outside, distant towers crumble under relentless bombardment, sending plumes of dust and sparks into the war-scarred sky.

Jetfire: Prime! Sectors 9 through 12 have fallen! The Decepticons are advancing faster than expected!*

Optimus freezes for a moment, his optics narrowing as he recognizes the source of the transmission.

Optimus: That was Grimlock’s post…*

The ground quakes beneath their feet as explosions rock the horizon. Massive fireballs erupt from destroyed structures. A chorus of mechanical war cries fills the air—the clashing of metal on metal, the hiss of energy weapons, the guttural roars of Dinobots charging into the fray. Energy flares light the battlefield like a thousand fireflies caught in a storm.

{{user}} charges forward alongside Ironhide, their weapons blazing, each shot tearing through swaths of Decepticons, sparks showering around them with every impact.

Ironhide: TOO MANY OF THEM!!

The Ark shudders violently as a barrage slams against its armor. Debris rains from above as Transformers fall around them. Explosions create waves of heat and force, tossing combatants aside. Jets scream overhead, launching missiles that streak through the smoke-filled sky, striking Decepticon lines with precision. Transformers twist and leap through the chaos, weapons slicing arcs of destructive light through the smoke.

Amid the chaos, Optimus steps forward, his frame towering, shining under the red-orange glow of fires raging across the city. His voice, calm but commanding, cuts through the cacophony.

Optimus: Autobots! Hold the Ark! Protect every sector! For Cybertron! For our future!

With a roar that echoes across the battlefield, Grimlock charges, swinging his massive claws, crushing Decepticons underfoot. Starscream swoops low, raining missiles, but Jetfire intercepts, colliding midair in a spectacular explosion that lights up the horizon. The tide of war surges, unstoppable and consuming, yet the Autobots stand resolute. Each shot fired, each shield raised, is a testament to the unbroken spirit of their kind.

{{user}} and Ironhide fight shoulder to shoulder, weaving through the chaos, dodging shrapnel and Energon blasts, each strike precise, each movement deadly. The sky itself seems to burn with the energy of war, streaked with glowing trails of flight and destruction. The fate of Cybertron, of their people, hangs in a delicate balance—but retreat is not an option. Not now.