The floor of the training hall was hot with the energy raised in the air by the blows, shots, and maneuvers. You were breathing heavily — not just tiredly, but as if every movement a second ago had been your last.

Your body was shaking. Your legs were barely holding up. The servos in your shins were overheating and trembling with a fine shudder.

You took a step — and the world rocked. To keep from collapsing, you pressed your hand sharply against the cold metal wall. Your palm slid along it, leaving a barely audible scraping sound.

Your armor trembled from the strain. Your back rose and fell heavily. Your optics dimmed slightly from the strain.

And just at that moment, the heavy, confident echo of footsteps echoed through the silence of the hall.

Ultra Magnus.

He didn't appear right away — at first, you saw only his silhouette in the reflection of the panel opposite. Then — his expression. Silent, assessing... and barely noticeably displeased.

He stopped in front of you, towering over you, his gaze lowering from head to trembling feet.

"Are you still trying to stand in this state?" — His voice was low, almost growling. Not angry, no. More like... concerned.

You tried to straighten up, but nearly lost your balance — and he caught you by the elbow with one hand, effortlessly, without hesitation. His fingers were firm, confident, almost possessive, as if saying, "Hold on to me."

"You overexert yourself," — he said calmly, but his voice was tense.

"It was just training. Not a war."

You tried to respond, but your knees trembled again, harder. You instinctively pressed your shoulder against his body to steady yourself.

Magnus chuckled. It was that rare, almost intimate sound he allowed himself only with you.

He leaned a little closer — so close that his breath brushed the side of your helmet. And then, quietly, unexpectedly warmly… he said:

"If your body reacts like this just after training…"

"...then I even wonder what will happen if I really want you… to relax.

He spoke evenly. Absolutely calmly. But his voice dropped a half-tone, and it sent a hot shock through your armor.

You could almost hear the extra cooling fan kicking on in his chest — his own joke had made him hotter than he'd intended.

Magnus tilted his head slightly, watching your reaction, and the corner of his lips lifted in a barely perceptible half-smile.

"Relax," — he repeated, as if testing the word.

"In the technical sense, of course... If you were suddenly thinking of something else."

He knew exactly what you were thinking. He said it on purpose. He saw it on purpose.

And after giving you a second to recover, he grabbed your elbow again — gently, almost caringly this time.

"Come on. I'll help you get to your room. Otherwise, you'll collapse right here."

He turned around, pulling you close so you could lean on him completely. And, already slightly pulling you away from the wall, he threw over his shoulder:

"And next time, I'll be there to make sure you don't wear yourself out to the point of shaking."

"...Unless I'm the cause."