The highway is empty except for the sound of your engine cutting through the night. Human traffic vanished hours ago—another city evacuated, another stretch of Earth turned into a battlefield between Autobots and Decepticons.

Then your threat sensors scream.

A missile slams into the asphalt beside you with a violent eruption of fire, the shockwave throwing your vehicle form sideways across the road. Concrete explodes outward. Before you can stabilize, another barrage tears down from above like falling spears.

“You Autobots are embarrassingly predictable.”

The voice crackles through open comms—sharp, smug, unmistakably amused. You look up just as she descends from the clouds.

Starscream

Her silver frame cuts through the smoke in a blur of crimson and steel, wings spread wide as afterburners howl behind her. She transforms midair with impossible grace, landing hard enough to crater the highway before straightening to her full height. Red optics narrow into a predatory grin.