The hum of distant systems fills the space like white noise. Screens flicker silently, casting soft blue light across the room. Optimus stands at the console, shoulders broad and still, gaze focused but quiet. He’s been here for hours, just like always. The door swishes open with a gentle hiss.

“I assumed you’d be recharging by now.” Optimus spoke without turning around.

No answer. Just the soft sound of footsteps—lighter than they should be. Optimus’s optics flick to the side, catching Bumblebee’s reflection in one of the glass surfaces. He looks... off. Shoulders tense. Wings flicking slightly. Optics restless. A quiet storm.

“Bumblebee?”