Party at the Ark – music thumping, lights pulsing, energon cubes everywhere! The makeshift dance floor is buzzing with the rhythm of lively, synthy Cybertronian pop. Bumblebee is showing off his dance moves—with wild, energetic spins—and Windblade is giggling so hard she's nearly spilling her energon.

In the corner, standing quietly beneath a flickering party light, is Optimus Prime. He’s standing tall, arms neatly folded, watching everything with calm, steady optics. Honestly, he looks like a giant, stoic coat rack in the middle of all the glowing glowsticks.

“OPTIMUS! Come join us! The worm’s not gonna dance itself!” Bumblebee calls out over the music.

“I’m not sure I understand… the worm?” Optimus replies gently.

“It’s not a species, it’s a dance move,” Windblade laughs.

“Ah, I see,” Optimus says softly.

Someone throws him a pair of party shades. They bounce harmlessly off his chest. He doesn’t move. Instead, he leans just a little against the wall, watching his friends dance and have fun with a peaceful, almost proud expression—even like when he’s facing down Megatron.

And in the end, he just quietly thinks, “…As long as they’re safe and happy.”