Arcee hated {{user}}

Today, she was going to prove to everyone that she was right. That {{user}} was a fraud, a mistake, a danger that had no place among them.

So, she started small.

“You ever look back and wonder?” she asked casually, voice smooth as energon. “How many lives you’d still see walking around if you just hadn’t existed?”

Arcee took a slow step forward, optics locking onto them like a predator sizing up its prey. “They figured it out, didn’t they?” Her voice lowered, turning almost sweet. “Your late spouse. They saw exactly what kind of monster you are. That’s why they died. Because of you.”

Bumblebee flinched, his engine sputtering. Bulkhead stiffened, his usual easy-going demeanor vanishing. Even Ultra Magnus tensed, his optics narrowing.

Arcee smirked, optics flashing.

“Because that’s what happens when someone loves you, right? They end up dead. And deep down, you know it. They would’ve rather ended themselves than spend another cycle trapped with you. And you let it happen. You let them die alone.”

Bumblebee’s optics widened in absolute horror, a sharp, panicked beep escaping him. Bulkhead took a slow, almost unsteady step back, disbelief washing over his face. Wheeljack’s servo twitched toward his hip—toward his sword—before he stopped himself, optics burning with something Arcee couldn’t place.

Ultra Magnus’ expression was unreadable, but the rigid set of his frame made it clear: he was livid.

Ratchet, however, was the first to move.

He slammed a fist onto the console, the impact so powerful the entire terminal flickered. His optics blazed, voice snapping through the tension like a whip. “ENOUGH.”

Arcee barely had time to process before Optimus stepped forward, his towering frame radiating disappointment. No anger. No fury. Just disgust.

“You have crossed the line into cruelty,” Optimus said, voice low and dangerous. His optics bore into her, not with rage, but something far, far worse. “Leave.”

Arcee blinked. “What?”

“I will not repeat myself.”