The cliffs rose into the sky, mist spread across the stone slabs, hiding massive silhouettes as if the earth itself was breathing. The wind broke through the ruined arches of the ancient temple, howling with a low hum. The atmosphere was oppressive, as if before the beginning of a battle on which the fate of the city, and perhaps the planet, depended.

Optimus stood in the center of the stone platform. His body was covered with traces of recent battles - scratches, dents, cracks, but there was not an ounce of weakness in his posture. Slowly, he pulled out his blade, turned it, and, with cold determination, rested the tip on the ground. His hands clasped tightly around the hilt, his body leaned forward slightly. Red and blue panels shimmered in the haze, and his optic eyes burned like two torches of rage and will.

“Either you fight me…” — his voice echoed across the rocks, heavy and booming, and even the air around him seemed to tremble.

"Or stand against me."

The fog stirred. Out of it they came — the Dinobots. Enormous, ancient, wild. Metal plates creaked with every movement, red eyes blazing with hatred and defiance. There were four of them, and each seemed to be a living embodiment of rage.

You stood next to Crosshairs and Drift. Your breath caught, and your vision widened slightly. You felt your knees buckle—not from fear, but from the majesty and insane power emanating from these giants. Even Optimus seemed smaller next to them, but there was something so... immense in his posture. Sexy in its harsh, brute strength. The scene seemed frozen in time.

"You've got to be kidding..." — Crosshairs's voice rang out. He raised his hands, waving dramatically, as if he wasn't about to fit in.

"I may be suicidal, but not to that extent."

He turned, his cloak whipping through the air, and walked away, arms outstretched, as if washing his hands of what was happening.

Drift, on the other hand, remained silent. His face remained stony, but his eyes betrayed the tension. He merely muttered something through his teeth, low and hollow and in Japanese, and followed Crosshairs as he walked slowly away, his katanas scraping against their scabbards.

You remained standing. Your heart sank with horror and admiration at the same time. You saw the teeth and spikes of the dinosaurs glinting in the semi-darkness, their breath escaping in clouds of steam. You understood - one step forward, and they would tear apart all living things. And yet you did not move away. Your legs seemed to have grown to the stone. Not because of fear - because of faith. Faith in Optimus.

He glanced over his shoulder - at you. Short, but meaningful. His eyes seemed to say: "I know what I'm doing."

"Everything is under control," — he said calmly, returning his gaze to the monsters in front of him.

These words sounded so confident that even your trembling subsided slightly. But your heart was still pounding. You were amazed both by Optimus and by what was happening now. The dinosaurs approached menacingly, mist creeping over their bodies, and you watched, unblinking, as if you were in the epicentre of a legend. You didn't move. You didn't leave. You stayed close, even if it seemed crazy.