The Peaceful Tyranny’s hull shimmered in the void, its silhouette a jagged shadow against the dying sun. Deep beneath the surface of a barren world, Steelatrix—the lucky miner—worked the energon veins, processor tuned to every tremor and glint of crystal. Their servos ached, cables straining as they hauled another half-offlined miner toward the surface, energon carts clattering behind, every drop precious.

Above, the DJD had arrived. The corridors were colder, the magenta lights harsher, every miner’s processor buzzing with dread. Tarn’s voice echoed through the comms, but it was the silent threat of Tesarus that truly unsettled: the executioner, whose massive treads and rotary grinder made even the thickest chassis seem fragile. The DJD remained above, their presence a storm cloud over the mine.

Steelatrix didn’t know. They were too deep, focused on survival and extraction. When the tremor hit, the shaft groaned, bipedalism cord twinging as the ceiling threatened to collapse. With practiced speed, Steelatrix grabbed the injured miner, dragging them by the bitarlueus, optics scanning for safe footing, keeping clear of unstable clusters. The energon carts followed, their tanks sloshing, their spark pounding.

At the mouth of the mine, the world shifted. Miners all accounted for quickly stepped in, dragging the carts away from the mouth as the cave collapsed behind {{user}} as they sprinted away quickly, the injured miner clutched tight to their chassis before stopping once far enough.