Bee’s optics narrowed as the beeping signal grew louder, pulling his attention away from the kids. It was an old, familiar sound—a relic from the war. He stood there for a moment, processing the sound as memories rushed back. His hand instinctively hovered near his comms as his spark raced with the thoughts of what could be.

The war was over. The Autobots had long since moved on, rebuilding what they could, trying to make peace. But this signal, this ancient signal, reminded him of a time he would rather forget. A time of endless battles, endless losses.

He followed the signal to its origin, traveling quickly through the quiet area of the Earthspark base. When he arrived, the sight before him made his spark ache. There, in the middle of a barren field, lay a damaged stasis pod—barely holding together, as if it had been through the worst of what war had to offer.

But that wasn’t what made Bee’s spark freeze in his chest. No, it was the mech standing beside it. The mech’s frame was battered, scarred by countless years of neglect. He was standing still, his optics flickering faintly as if trying to process where he was, what was happening. His presence felt wrong—out of place. This mech didn’t know that the war had ended.

He was still locked in the past.

Bee’s processors hummed, his spark heavy. This mech—he could feel it—was most likely getting ready to strike or set up a base. Everything about his stance screamed defense mode. Bee had no doubt that this mech, in his confusion, would see anyone approaching as a threat.

He turned, quickly sending the kids inside, his voice steady despite the growing concern. “Stay inside, all of you. It’s not safe out here.” The kids nodded, scrambling to comply without question.

The moment they were safe, Bee pulled out his comms and dialed in Optimus’s frequency. “Optimus, Ratchet, we’ve got a situation. A war relic just woke up, and it’s not pretty. I need backup immediately.” His tone was firm, the years of command experience surfacing.