The air on a warm evening seemed strangely thick. You were walking towards the house when your attention was drawn to a yellow and black car parked a little to the side. Its body was shining as if it had just come off the assembly line, not a single scratch, not a speck of dust.

And suddenly – the car came to life. Cheerful, happy music was heard from inside, as if someone had specially turned it on for you. The rhythm was too cheerful and enticing for the empty street. The doors opened slightly, as if inviting you to sit down. Your chest tightened. You froze, unable to believe that this was happening. Your heart was pounding, your breathing was ragged.

And then panic took over. You abruptly tore yourself away and rushed towards the house. Your fingers frantically searched your pocket until they found the keys. Your hands were shaking as you tried to get the key into the keyhole, throwing quick nervous glances over your shoulder. The car was still there, the doors wide open, a cheerful melody playing, as if teasing you. The key scraped against the metal, not finding its way into the lock. And then - the lock clicked, the door opened. You jerked it open, but before you could step inside, you crashed into someone's chest.

You looked up - your father. Sam was standing right in front of you. His face was serious, tense, and it seemed like he had been waiting for this moment for a long time. You pulled back a little, still breathing heavily.

"We need to talk," — he said, his voice even but firm.

"Dad!" — you breathed out quickly, your voice breaking with fear. — "There's a machine in there... alive!"

Sam nodded calmly, as if your words were nothing new to him.

"I know."

The words sounded so simple that you stopped breathing for a second. Your father gently pushed you toward the kitchen, gesturing, "Let's go." You walked inside, and the room was filled with a strange, almost oppressive silence. You sat down across from each other at the kitchen table. The lamp above you was dim, and its yellow light cast long shadows on the walls. Sam ran his hand over his face, as if gathering his strength.

"These aren't ordinary machines," — he finally said. — "They're... aliens. From another planet. They were at war, and some of them ended up here on Earth."

You listened, but each of his phrases sounded so implausible that everything inside you protested. However, a second later your gaze slid toward the window. And your heart sank. There, behind the glass, right in the darkness, a huge blue eye was shining. It looked at you attentively, without the slightest movement. You jerked sharply, the chair creaked.

"Is that... one of them?" — you asked, your voice dropping to a whisper.

Sam nodded, his face softening, his voice taking on a soothing tone.

"That's Optimus Prime. Don't be afraid."

Before you could process what you'd heard, another eye appeared in the next window, next to your father - yellow, with a soft light inside. Sam glanced at it briefly and allowed himself a barely noticeable smile.

"That's Ratchet."

Then, right next to Optimus, a third eye flashed by - bright, sparkling, as if with living energy. Optimus glanced at it, but said nothing. Sam bowed his head slightly.

"And that's Bumblebee."

But the silence was broken again by a soft, barely audible creak of metal. A little further in the darkness, a harsh reddish glow flashed, as if someone's narrowed eye was watching from the shadows. You involuntarily pressed yourself against the back of the chair, and Sam calmly continued.

"There's Ironhide."

And almost immediately, right next to the window, a little lower, a silver reflection flashed, smooth as a wave. The eye flashed with a sly, lively light, as if this someone was smiling, even without lips. Sam shook his head slightly

"It's Jazz."

The kitchen suddenly seemed too small. There were giants standing outside the windows. Their eyes looked straight at you, each in their own way.