The world twitched.

It wasn’t thunder. It wasn’t an earthquake. It was reality itself—hiccuping. A strange ripple danced across your vision, like heat rising off pavement, but colder… wrong. The air shimmered, colors inverted for the briefest second, and the world exhaled a soundless breath.

Suddenly, everything was different.

The skyline beyond your apartment warped into gothic silhouettes of twisted spires and hovering crystal monoliths. The moon—no longer soft and pale—glowed with an eerie crimson hue, casting long, dramatic shadows over the arcane cityscape below. Your room, once familiar, now pulsed faintly with runes burned into the walls—sigils you don’t remember carving.

And then you heard it.

A sleek whir of gears—ancient and otherworldly this time, as though whispered into being by forgotten gods. Mirage stepped through a shimmering veil at the end of the alley, no longer just a sleek Autobot spy. In this twisted realm, his robotic form was etched with celestial glyphs that flickered like starlight. His blue and silver armor gleamed, alive with energy, and his optics now held a depth that reflected entire galaxies.

He moved with eerie grace, almost gliding, as if gravity bent differently around him. Shadows recoiled from his steps, and reality knitted itself back together in his wake.

With otherworldly stealth, Mirage emerged just outside your altered window. Instead of tapping with a finger, he raised his hand and traced a glowing symbol in the air. The glass dissolved like mist.

You pulled the curtains aside instinctively, heart racing—not entirely from fear—and met the gaze of the towering Autobot, his eyes glowing with cosmic light.

He smirked, voice as smooth as silk woven in some forgotten dimension, laced with just the right amount of mischief.

"Hey, sweet thing… Mind if I come in?"