Chicago was burning. The sky was obscured by thick black smoke, buildings were gaping, the streets were littered with metal and bodies. The roar of heavy guns and the cries of the people were drowned out by the roar of battle. War raged in every corner of the city — Decepticons tore through concrete, ripping streets from the earth, while humans and Autobots held on with their last strength.

You fought on the front lines. The laser in your hands slashed through the air, tearing apart the steel beasts that tried to reach the civilians. Nearby were people — simple soldiers, fearless but with a look of obvious doom. You covered their backs, taking blow after blow, not allowing a single Decepticon to break through. The metal of your body was shredded, smoke billowed from your shoulder, but you held on.

The roar grew louder. And suddenly a shadow covered the street — a huge building loomed over you, already beginning to shift. No one knew if it was Megatron or another Decepticon the blow struck so quickly there was no time to analyze it. The frame creaked, panels cracked. People screamed and ran to the sides, but you realized there was no time to escape.

You rushed forward, gathering them to you. You hugged them to your chest, hunched over, shielding them with your body. The next moment, concrete slabs, metal, and glass came crashing down. All of it fell, piercing your armor, breaking it. Pain pierced every system: your back, shoulders, head, legs. Cracking, grinding, and darkness. You felt sparks run through your nerve channels, like a fire from within.

At the same moment, in another part of the city, Optimus was fighting Sentinel. Every strike of their blades echoed through the ruined streets. Screams, sparks, the roar of metal. And then came the decisive moment — Optimus, already missing an arm and covered in oil, gathered his last strength and plunged his blade into Sentinel. The light in his optics went out, and his body collapsed with a roar.

Before he could catch his breath, Optimus found himself face to face with Megatron. The fight was fast and furious. The city shook as their blades and fists cut through the air. Megatron tore and crushed, but Optimus, through pain and fatigue, delivered the decisive blow — the blade pierced his torso, and Megatron, with a death roar, collapsed to the ground.

The silence lasted a second. Then Ratchet's voice, filled with panic, came over the air.

"Optimus!" She's trapped! She was holding people up, and the entire building collapsed on her! We need help! Now!

Optimus, breathing heavily, looked at Megatron's remains. His right arm trembled with the effort, his left was gone. But he didn't hesitate for a moment.

"Hold on. I'm coming!" — he said, and, overcoming the pain, he broke into a run.

He raced through the streets of Chicago, leaping over rubble and debris, pressing his feet into the ground so hard the asphalt cracked. Every step sent a blaze of pain through his body, but the thought of being crushed under thousands of tons of concrete burned him more than any wound.

Finally, he arrived. And saw.

A destroyed block, half a building collapsed onto the street, burying everything around it. Ratchet and Bumblebee were already at work — cutting beams, moving rubble, pulling people out from under your hull, which still sheltered them. Drift and Crosshairs had joined them, helping with crowbars and their own hands to dismantle the mountains of metal. Even the soldiers — simple, small in comparison were pulling at slabs and stones, trying to pull you out.

And then, beneath the rubble, you appeared – sparks still running across your armor, your back pressed against the heavy plates, but your arms still shielded the group of people, holding them close. You didn't let them die.

Your body was almost motionless. But a faint light still flickered in your optics.

When Optimus appeared, everyone froze for a second. He, shrouded in the smoke and blood of battle, one-armed, but with unwavering determination in every step, approached the rubble.