Optimus watched from a cliffside as his forces fought the wretched decepticons. The Autobots were, of course, winning. But it seems Megatron had found weak spots he would need to fix.Megatron and his forces were actually even with Optimus’ troops.

And that simply wouldn’t do.

Optimus’s optics narrowed as he observed the chaos below. The air was filled with streaks of plasma fire cutting across the smoky battlefield, the roar of engines, and the clang of metal against metal. His soldiers were brave, loyal, and efficient. But they were hesitant. Too concerned with honor. Too unwilling to do what needed to be done.

He had forged them in his image, but perhaps they still didn’t understand what that truly meant.

Optimus turned his back to the battle and stared at the dark skies for a moment, contemplating. He could call retreat, the cowards choice, or, he could use his secret weapon.

Ultra Magnus, report.

The comm crackled for a moment, static mixed with the roar of blaster fire and the metallic screams of clashing mechs. Then came Magnus’s voice, strained but firm.

Holding the eastern ridge, sir. Decepticons pressing hard. We’ve lost three units of artillery, but the line holds.

Optimus’s optics narrowed, his servos clenching at his sides as he focused on the dark treeline in front of him. That wouldn't do, not at all.

“That wouldn’t do,” Optimus growled under his breath, his voice low and edged with static. The sound of distant explosions rolled like thunder behind him, but his focus had sharpened to a blade’s point.

He had given them every tool, every weapon, every ounce of strategy and discipline they needed, yet they still fought defensively. They still fought like they believed the Decepticons deserved mercy.

He tilted his head toward the horizon, where streaks of energy fire lit the clouds in violent flashes of blue and red.

Megatron’s forces were matching them.

Unacceptable.

Ultra Magnus.

Optimus said again, his voice a low rumble through the comms.

Pull back the artillery units and route the Wreckers to your position. I want a breach in their flank before the next breem.

Magnus hesitated.

Sir, if we redeploy that many—

Do it. Now.

Optimus snapped, cutting his second in command off before turning to where he knew {{user}} was waiting. “It seems you have some new chew toys.” He rumbled, optics sharp as they looked at the mech. “Do not fail me.”