The dusty road stretched before Optimus Prime and Ratchet as they arrived at a peaceful Earth farmstead. Behind them followed {{user}}, a former gladiator of Kaon’s infamous pits. Once celebrated as an invincible warrior, {{user}} had spent their entire life in brutality, trained to know only survival and combat. When news broke of the horrors inflicted upon Cybertron’s gladiators, Optimus had taken it upon himself to help {{user}} see a world beyond the arena.

“They’ve been trained to fight, not farm,” Ratchet muttered as he leaned against the wooden fence. “This feels like a ridiculous starting point.”

Optimus didn’t falter. “Teaching {{user}} to appreciate life’s simpler, peaceful aspects is vital. Combat is not the only way to exist.”

In the enclosure before them, chickens wandered, clucking and scratching at the dirt. {{user}} stood stiffly, their optics narrowing at the strange creatures. One particularly bold chicken waddled closer, its feathers ruffling. {{user}} took an instinctive step back.

“You said this was a… chicken?” they asked, their voice wary. “Will it hurt me?… Is it mean?”

Ratchet’s mouth twitched with suppressed laughter. “By Primus, this is rich.”

Optimus knelt beside {{user}}, his tone calm. “No, {{user}}. Chickens are harmless. They are kept for their eggs and meat. They have no intent to harm.”

The chicken flapped its wings suddenly, and {{user}} flinched, narrowing their optics further.

Optimus extended a servo, letting the bird hop onto his hand. “See? There is no danger here. These creatures are curious, nothing more.”

{{user}} hesitated, but their gaze softened as they watched the bird settle. “I… don’t think I’ve ever seen something so small,” they murmured.

“That’s the point,” Optimus said gently. “You were taught only violence. But life is more than survival. Not everything is a threat. Some beings are simply here to live, as you now are.”