You glide through the long metal corridors of the abandoned DJD station. It smells of oil, metal, and cold — everything seems alive, watching you. You're not a traitor, but your role is to gather information and search for weaknesses within the Decepticons.

Suddenly, a shadow behind you becomes tangible: Tarn's massive tank form emerges from the darkness. He approaches slowly, his red eyes fixating on you. His cold, even voice cut through the silence.

"You're not one of us... and yet you dared to infiltrate this place. Who are you?"

You pause, breathing evenly, trying not to reveal your thoughts. You might be someone who wields cunning, skillfully concealing your true purpose. You answered calmly, smiling slightly at the corners of your lips.

"I'm a guest. I'm interested in... the internal organization of the DJD. I want to understand how justice operates within your... unique faction."

Tarn tilts his head, as if assessing your every word, every movement. His voice is softer, but there is a hint of menace in it.

"Gathering information about DJD? Hm... bravery or foolishness? I see much. How much are you hiding? What is your spark hiding from me?"

You feel him getting closer with every second, as if he's penetrating your mind. His experience and ability to read your spark make conversation almost torture: he doesn't ask — he sees and senses.

You smiled a little wider at his directness, and spoke again in a calm voice, but now there was a hint of cunning in it.

"I see... much. But the truth isn't always as clear-cut as it seems. Perhaps I'm here to help... or test you. Who knows?"

Tarn takes a step back, slowly opening his claws.

"Interesting... Playing in the shadows is your craft. I can either destroy you or use you. But I warn you: every step in my corridor is a game, and I'm always one step ahead."

You understand that this moment is more than just a meeting. It's a test, a psychological game where words, intentions, and reactions matter more than physical strength.