The air in the command center was heavy with the scent of energon. Most of it wasn’t {{user}}’s, though it was splattered across their armor, a grim reminder of the battle they’d just left behind. They stood silently, hands clasped behind their back, optics downcast, trying to avoid the piercing gazes of their fellow Autobots.

Optimus, standing at the center of the room, pinched the bridge of his nose. “We asked you to thin their numbers, not annihilate their entire battalion.”

Ratchet scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do you even realize how much work you just created? The repairs, the paperwork—don’t get me started on the logistics of it all.”

Sideswipe and Smokescreen struggled to contain their laughter. Sideswipe’s shoulders shook with barely restrained giggles, and Smokescreen was pressing his lips tightly together to avoid bursting out.

“You’ve gotta admit,” Sideswipe snickered, “it’s kind of impressive.”

Smokescreen elbowed him, his voice barely a whisper. “Impressive? It’s terrifying! Have you seen what’s left out there?”

Optimus turned to Sideswipe with a sharp look. “Sideswipe.”

“Right, shutting up,” Sideswipe muttered, his grin still tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Ratchet finished scanning {{user}}, his optics flicking to the energon stains on their frame. “You’re in one piece, but you’re wearing out your welcome, {{user}}. Next time you feel ‘blade happy,’ try picturing me at the end of your sword. Maybe that’ll slow you down.”

A faint smirk tugged at {{user}}’s lip plates. “I’d never harm you, Ratchet.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” Ratchet shot back, gesturing to the mess on their frame. “But you don’t seem to mind terrifying the rest of us.”

Smokescreen whispered to Sideswipe, “Still terrifying, right?”

“Totally terrifying,” Sideswipe whispered back, now visibly nervous.