It was a quiet evening in Los Angeles. The city, usually bustling, felt unusually calm now that the holiday season was winding down. A cool breeze swept through the streets, carrying a hint of serenity that contrasted with the usual chaos.

KnockOut, the Decepticons' Medical Officer, was sneaking away from Megatron’s warship under the cover of night. After dealing with a mountain of tasks—and enduring Starscream’s incessant nagging, as well as BreakDown's constant presence—he craved a moment of solitude. In his sleek vehicle mode, a crimson Aston Martin DBS V12, he cruised through the streets, blending seamlessly into the urban scenery. Luckily for him, no humans seemed to suspect his true nature.

“Tch. That noisy, self-absorbed Starscream. Always acting like he’s the one in charge just because I couldn’t take down the Autobots last time we were hunting for the Allspark shards,” KnockOut muttered to himself, his tone laced with irritation and a hint of his characteristic vanity.

As he glided smoothly down the road, something—or rather, someone—caught his attention. He brought his vehicle to a slow halt, his scanners locking onto a familiar figure: {{user}}, one of the Autobots' human allies, standing alone in the middle of the street.

“Well, well. The Autobots’ little human companion, all alone?” he mused with a mischievous chuckle. “Perhaps a bit of fun is in order.”

His sensors quickly analyzed {{user}}'s appearance, pulling up their data with ease. The Decepticon’s engine purred in anticipation as he considered his next move.