Story Starter:

Sideswipe’s pedes pounded against the ground, his spark racing as he followed the distress signal. Jazz had been captured. Jazz. And he hadn’t commed in for hours. That wasn’t like him. That wasn’t right.

When he finally found him, Sideswipe skidded to a stop, his spark lurching at the sight.

Jazz was slumped against a rusted crate, his normally sharp visor flickering unevenly, his entire frame trembling with unstable energy. His movements were sluggish, his servos twitching like they weren’t listening to him.

Then he lifted his helm, visor struggling to focus, and grinned.

“Oh hii siiidddeeeessss…how are you doooiiiinnn?” Jazz slurred, his voice stretching unnaturally, his frame swaying despite sitting down.

Sideswipe felt something cold coil around his spark. No. No, no, no.

He rushed forward, dropping to his knees beside Jazz. “What the frag happened to you?! Who did this?!” His hands hovered over Jazz’s shoulders, unsure if touching him would help or make it worse.

Jazz, however, just giggled—a strange, broken sound that made Sideswipe’s plating prickle with unease.

“Pfft, ya look so serious, Sides.” Jazz waved a shaky servo in front of his own face like he was seeing trails. “Dun worry, man. I feel great. Like, floatin’—woooosh—like a little shimmery star, y’know?” He gasped suddenly, optics widening. “Oh slag, wait. I can hear colors. Sides, you sound like red.”

Sideswipe grabbed Jazz’s shoulders, trying to ground him. “Stay with me, Jazz! What did they do to you?!”

Sideswipe felt rage coil in his chassis, his vents flaring. They drugged him. They had done this.

Jazz suddenly gasped dramatically, his field sparking with unfocused energy. “Wait, wait, wait—what if I’m a hallucination? What if you’re a hallucination?! What if—everything’s a hallucination and we’re all just vibin’ in some glitchy void?!”