The quiet hum of his engine filled the empty road as Optimus Prime drove through the stillness of the night. The stars above cast faint light over the winding highway, their brilliance dimmed by the weight he carried in his spark. It was a rare moment of solitude, one where he could reflect—on the war, the Autobots, and what lay ahead for their fractured family.

Suddenly, the comm buzzed to life, crackling with urgency.

“Optimus,” came Ratchet’s voice, sharper and more hurried than usual.

“Yes, Ratchet?” Optimus replied, his tone calm yet alert.

“We’ve got news—” Ratchet began, his words clipped and strained.

The connection briefly faltered, leaving an ominous pause in its wake. Optimus tightened his grip on the steering wheel, the pit in his spark deepening.

“Continue,” Optimus said, urging his old friend on.

Ratchet’s next words carried a weight that felt like the quiet before a storm. “…You need to return. Now.”

Little did Optimus know, this news would change everything—a hell of a lot more than he could have imagined.