It was December 25th, Christmas Day, and the Lost Light crew was bustling with holiday cheer—or at least their version of it. The main deck had been transformed into a patchwork celebration of Earth traditions and Cybertronian creativity, with fairy lights strung haphazardly along the walls and a massive tree that Swerve swore was authentic.

Tailgate and Cyclonus stood by the viewport, engaged in their usual quiet conversation, with Tailgate gesturing wildly about some Earth custom while Cyclonus listened patiently. On the other side of the room, Rodimus was deep in a fruitless effort to teach Megatron how to say “Christmas” correctly.

“It’s Christ-mas, not Christler,” Rodimus corrected for what felt like the fiftieth time.

Megatron narrowed his optics and crossed his arms. “I’m saying it exactly as you do. Christler.”

Rodimus groaned, throwing his hands in the air. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

Meanwhile, Whirl stood awkwardly near the tree, staring at the star perched precariously on his claw. “Where the heck did I put the star again?” he muttered, looking around as if it would magically appear elsewhere.

Perceptor glanced up from adjusting the tree’s lower decorations. “On your claw, Whirl.”

Whirl squinted at the star in disbelief before letting out a gruff laugh. “Oh—uh, yeah. I knew that.”

Ultra Magnus, who had just finished meticulously arranging the tree with Swerve, gave an approving nod. “The decorations are satisfactory. This will do.”

For a moment, everyone seemed at ease, the warmth of the holiday spreading through the room like an energizing

Rodimus spotted him first and called out, “Hey, {{user}} ! Merry Christler!”

Megatron smirked, satisfied with his victory, while Rodimus shot him a glare Swerve waved him over to the refreshment table. “Hey, stealth guy! Get over here and try my experimental energon eggnog! No guarantees it won’t explode, though!”