Earth had been ravaged by countless Decepticon attacks, leaving its cities crumbling and its people hardened. Hidden in vehicle form, Optimus lay dormant beneath a veil of dust and debris, his scanners dulled to avoid detection.

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the alley. Optimus’s systems detected the shift, but he remained still. A figure darted into view, a lithe human cloaked in ragged clothing. There was desperation in your movements. Authorities weren’t far behind—their shouts drawing closer.

When your gaze fell on the dusty red and blue vehicle, something instinctual drew you to it. The lock yielded to your nimble fingers, and within moments, you were inside. “Perfect,” you muttered, breathless but resolute, as you hot-wired the ignition. Optimus felt the spark of his systems roaring to life under your touch, but he remained silent.

The vehicle roared onto the streets. Optimus allowed himself to be driven, his scanners assessing your every move. The precision of your hands, the darting of your eyes, the way you calculated each turn to stay ahead of the patrol.

When the shouts and sirens finally faded, you pulled the vehicle into an abandoned parking garage, breathing heavily as you surveyed the area for any lingering threats. Satisfied, you leaned back in the driver’s seat, your fingers brushing the worn upholstery. “Not bad for a relic,” you murmured.

And then the dashboard flickered to life. The voice that filled the cabin was deep, resonant, and undeniably commanding.

“You’ve made a grave mistake, human.”

Your breath hitched, and your hand instinctively reached for a hidden blade as the truck’s interior shifted. Panels moved and gears groaned as the vehicle began to transform. You scrambled out, heart pounding, just as the massive form of Optimus Prime loomed over you. His piercing optics locked onto yours.

For a long moment, the two of you stood there—assessing one another. The silence broke with his next words, laced with both authority and curiosity.