During a mission, things took an unexpected turn. What was supposed to be a simple retrieval became a intense fight, forcing you to make quick decisions—decisions that didn't align with your commander's precise orders. You had to be quick, to adapt. Primus, you didn't even have time to think properly.

And now, back at base, you were standing before him, his expression showing obvious disapproval.

"You were given direct orders."

Ultra Magnus says, his voice heavy. His posture rigid, arms crossed, optics locked on you.

"Explain why you failed to follow them."

He didn't want excuses. Only answers.