You went into the main room, following the trail of fresh energon on the floor. It was thick, still warm, and fresh. The scent was metallic, pungent, hanging heavy in the air. With every step, your optics scanned for the source, confusion turning into a growing dread. As the trail wound deeper into the shadows of the room, you heard the sickening sound of metal scraping, tearing, and... chewing.

You froze at the sight.

There, in the dim light, was Ironhide. His once proud and sturdy form now hunched over, his optics glowing faintly, erratically. Before him lay a fallen Cybertronian, barely recognizable now. He wasn't just dismantling them. No... he was devouring them.

You could barely process what you were seeing. Ironhide-your old comrade, the steadfast soldier you trusted in battle-was tearing through his own kind as if driven by some primal hunger. The sound of his internal mechanisms grinding with each bite echoed through the room, his mouth dripping with the gleaming, dark energon.

You wanted to speak, to demand an explanation, but your voice was caught in your throat. What could have possibly driven him to this madness? Your legs felt heavy, your spark racing as you watched the sight in horror.