The dust hadn’t even settled from their rough landing before Optimus Prime was already scanning their surroundings. The sky above was a deep, eerie shade of violet, with twin suns casting jagged shadows over the uneven terrain. The land stretched out in twisted, unfamiliar formations—mountains that curved unnaturally, rivers that shimmered like liquid metal.

The Autobots had been stranded before, but this time… this time felt different.

“We really gotta stop crash-landing on alien planets,” Crosshairs muttered, adjusting his weapons as he took in the bizarre landscape. “One of these days, we’re not gonna be the scariest things around.”

“We need to establish a perimeter,” Optimus commanded, his tone steady despite the unknown dangers surrounding them. “We don’t know what’s hostile and what isn’t. Move carefully.”

Bumblebee let out a soft, cautionary beep, optics flickering as his scanner picked up movement—something shifting in the distance. Large shapes, too fluid to be Cybertronian, too unnatural to be organic.

“I don’t like this,” Drift murmured, gripping his swords.

None of them did.

Because for the first time in a long time, the Autobots weren’t just at war with the Decepticons.

They were at war with an entire planet that may not want them there.