The Lost Light base loomed ahead, its metallic walls worn but gleaming under the distant sun. Optimus Prime and his team approached with caution, having heard only whispers of the mysterious Autobots who operated from here. It had been years since anyone from Cybertron had contact with the place.

Bumblebee looked around, scanning the area. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s home,” he muttered, stepping forward.

“Keep your optics sharp,” Optimus warned, his deep voice echoing through the entrance hall. “We don’t know who—or what—awaits us.”

As they ventured deeper into the base, they came across a lone bot. At first glance, the figure seemed unremarkable, quietly working on some device with their back turned to the group. Their frame wasn’t particularly large or imposing, but there was an aura of authority around them, something none of the Autobots could quite place.

“Hey,” Ironhide called out roughly, stepping forward. “Who’s in charge here? We need answers.”

The bot slowly turned, revealing a calm expression but said nothing, their optics narrowing slightly.

Jazz chuckled. “What’s the matter? Too busy to talk?”

The tension in the room thickened, but before anyone could say more, Rodimus burst into the room at full speed, skidding to a stop in front of them. His face was pale, optics wide with panic.

“Stop!” Rodimus shouted, holding up both hands. “You don’t know who you’re talking to! That’s—”

But it was too late. The bot they had just disrespected slowly rose to their full height, their frame now towering above them, a deep, ancient energy radiating off of them. The quiet authority turned into a powerful presence, almost suffocating in its intensity.

The bot stepped forward, their voice calm but carrying the weight of eons. “You dare to speak to me in such a manner?”

Rodimus winced. “They’re…a Prime,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “One of the first.”