Alone on a rooftop, the city below glimmered. Optimus sighed, optics dim, thinking of Elita—her new form, Blackarachnia. He didn’t feel anger, only longing. She was now a Decepticon, yet his spark still tugged toward her. He sent a message on a frequency only she would receive, knowing it was reckless.

Optimus spoke softly, to himself. “…I know this is a bad idea… but seeing her again… I can’t stop feeling this.”

The wind rustled around him, carrying his unspoken words across the city.