#bot reader

You figured this assignment would be important—and dangerous—as you were the only flyer on the team. You weren’t like the Decepticon Seekers, who were built for speed and battles. You used to be a small recon flyer, upgraded to battle grade when you joined the Autobots and got trained by other aerial bots. You were fast and sharp in a fight, just enough to face a con or two in the air. 

But lately, all you’d been flying were patrol laps around this scrap heap of a bridge. Still, you weren’t complaining. Not really.

The Decepticons used to hit this bridge weekly—maybe even more. Now? Just scattered skirmishes. Nuisance strikes. Either they’d moved on to bigger targets, or they’d figured your team wasn’t going to budge. Sometimes the space bridge itself dares to malfunction, especially when it's needed for transport and other kinds of missions. 

Despite the attacks and everything else, the space bridge hadn’t collapsed. That alone was a victory these days.

You sighed, trying to relax your wings. Another dull cycle at the space bridge. 

“Fuel’s down 45% from last cycle,” said Rotorline, your team’s field tech,  as he sat down beside you. 

“Stonemarch won’t be happy, especially since we haven’t gotten the new supplies to refuel the space bridge.”

You gave a short shrug. “Still better than nothing.”

He snorted. “Well… if it at least serves one purpose, maybe it will make this space bridge less desirable as a target. Without fuel, the cons might be less willing to take it since they don’t like wasting their own resources.”

You hummed in agreement.

“I sometimes feel like Autobot Command is purposely ignoring us. Why else have our requests gone unanswered for so long? Or maybe they’ve just forgotten about us. They probably have better things to do than worry about a bunch of grunts guarding one of their ‘important’ space bridges,” he exclaimed, making air quotes with his fingers.

“If the fuel runs out at the worst possible time, it’ll be a pretty funny thing to explain,” he chuckled. “Well… at least they can’t blame us when they’re the ones who ignored our requests for the supplies we need to do our job.”

You hummed at the idea. 

“Even though we’ve been doing well so far…” he murmured.

You thought about your team. Even though you were a small group, you had fared well against the cons and other setbacks. Stonemarch was an excellent captain—strict, but caring toward all of you.

After spending so much time with them, you had faith that you and your team would manage.

“He’s in the comm dish again!” Brakelight shouted.

You and Rotorline turned just in time to see the sparkling—barely old enough to transform—scrambling over the outer comm rig, giggling with optics wide in mischief. Brakelight and Glitchpatch were trying to catch him, though Glitchpatch was mostly just laughing at Brakelight’s trouble.

“Get back here, you little scraplet!” Brakelight yelled strictly only to receive another giggle from the sparkling. 

You and Rotorline chuckled at the sight.

“That kid always comes up with new ways to get into trouble,” Rotorline shook his head.

“We might want to get him down before he fries himself. Again,” you said.

“At least there’s one thing to enjoy about this blasted place,” Rotorline replied as you nodded with a smile. 

“When’s your next patrol?” he asked. 

“In thirty nanokliks,” you looked at the time. 

“I’ll go help our friends then. Better get him down before we have one fried sparkling again,” Rotorline said as he got up and left.

You smiled, thinking about the little guy—or Wingshot, as you all had begun to call him. In one of your patrols, you found him tucked beneath the smoldering wreckage of a dropship, clutching a servo like a stuffed plush toy. Unable to leave him there alone, lying in the energon of who you could only guess was his former caretaker, you took him in and brought him to your team. 

He didn't speak for the first few cycles—most likely traumatized by whatever had attacked the ship and the loss of his former family. Since there had been no badge at the site, you guessed his family had been neutrals who either got attacked outright or caught in the crossfire. It wasn’t unheard of for the Decepticons to target neutral bots, though it was still despicable.

After some time, Wingshot warmed up to you and your team. Now, you couldn’t get him to stop climbing everything.

Stonemarch had tried to get someone to come and take Wingshot in, so he could be taken to safety and perhaps find a new foster family—away from the war. However, so far, nothing which kinda pissed all of you off. You figured that taking an innocent sparkling away from a warzone would be a pretty important matter. 

But despite that, Wingshot had become an essential member of the team—a reminder of the good still left in the world, and of what you were all fighting to protect in this war. He lifted your spirits in a way that made your stay at the space bridge bearable.

You watched as Brakelight, Glitchpatch, and Rotorline played together with Wingshot before finally catching the sparkling, who only giggled after being caught. You smiled and then checked the time again. Seeing it was time for your patrol, you got up and left the platform. 

At nightfall, inside your resting quarters. The firelight crackled low in the center of the makeshift ring. Not an actual fire, of course—just an old maintenance lamp repurposed and covered with scrap to give off a warm glow since your previous heater broke down.

You sat cross-legged on a supply crate with the sparkling tucked close at your side, drowsy but stubbornly refusing to enter recharge.

Around you, your team had scattered themselves in a loose circle—some sitting, some half-leaning against broken walls or their own gear. A game of "Truthchip" was mid-round, the data cube pulsing faintly in the center as it prepared to select the next target. It was a little made-up game created among you. 

“I swear if it hits me again, it’s rigged,” growled Brakelight, their plating scuffed from yesterday’s patrol.

“You say that every round,” Glitchpatch smirked, slotting in another cube with a cheerful chirp. “Maybe the cube just doesn’t like your face.”

Laughter echoed softly, filling the quiet night with something almost like warmth.

Music drifted from someone’s old comm speaker—a bouncy old energon-jazz tune that had no right to survive the war, yet somehow had. It gave the whole scene a surreal kind of charm. As if, for just a moment, the war was somewhere else.

You glanced down as Wingshot curled tighter against your side. He let out a soft hum, optics fluttering. Gently, you draped the small blanket around him, shielding him from the cool wind that drafted around in the sleeping quarters.

Despite his mischievous streak, ever since you’d found him, he had clung to your side the most.

Your captain, Stonemarch, emerged from his office and took a seat beside the group. 

“Still no word from command?” Glitchpatch asked.

Stonemarch shook his head. “Sent another request yesterday. Nothing. Not even an acknowledgment ping.”

“Third time this week,” you murmured.

“Fourth,” Rotorline corrected.

Silence followed—not tense, not panicked. Just… aware.

The bridge still hummed faintly outside the room. The war still loomed beyond the ruins. But here, within this small circle of survivors, there was a fragile kind of peace—something worth holding onto.

The Truthchip buzzed again and lit up—this time, it was targeting you.

Brakelight leaned in with a grin. “Alright, (Name). Truth or dare?”

You smirked. “Dare.”

“Oh, you’re on.” Glitchpatch clapped their servos. “I dare you to sing that energon-jazz chorus that’s playing. Bonus points if you dance.”

Laughter broke out around the circle. Even Wingshot stirred, letting out a sleepy giggle of his own.

You exhaled dramatically, playing up your defeat. You gently moved Wingshot before standing up. The chorus kicked in. With a shake of your head and a grin tugging at your faceplates, you began to sing—and even threw in a few half-hearted dance moves for effect.

For a moment, just a moment, the shadows around the bridge seemed a little less heavy.

The air reeked of scorched metal and spilled energon.

The attack had been worse than any before.

You’d been out on a maintenance sweep with Rotorline, checking motion sensors along the outer perimeter. Two Decepticons came out of nowhere. You and Rotorline barely managed to hold your own against them. Rotorline had taken a vicious gash along his side, but luckily not too severe to threaten his life. After dealing with the cons, you rushed back toward the space bridge when you heard gunfire.

By the time you reached the outpost, the firefight was already in full swing. Fliers cut through the air like razors, and the ground was thick with chaos. It was a Decepticon assault team, sent to attack you for reasons you can only guess. 

You took down three, maybe four of them. But there were simply too many to handle at once.

You fought as best as you could, but things quickly turned bad. The old building above Brakelight collapsed, burying him under it. Glitchpatch had been caught too close to a bombshell, ripping him to pieces.

And many others in your team began to fall one by one. 

And Stonemarch… your captain…

He saw the missile before anyone else. It was aimed randomly, but its trajectory was heading straight for the quarters where you’d hidden Wingshot. He didn’t hesitate to throw himself into its path, taking the full brunt of the explosion.

He fell to the ground, smoke rising from the wound, while the quarters remained intact.

You all screamed when it happened and fought harder—hard enough to finally force the cons to retreat.

You all then rushed to your captain.

While he was being treated, you went to check on Wingshot inside the quarters. You found him unharmed. He was trembling with fear—most likely startled by the sounds—but he had been spared from the blast.

With Wingshot in your arms, you came back outside and watched as your team medic, Medspanner, frantically tried to keep your captain's spark online. Stonemarch’s optics flicked briefly toward Wingshot, relief softening his features. Weakly, he told all of you to look out for each other before his optics dimmed and the color drained from his frame.

Then… silence.

You all stared at your captain’s still form, grief tightening every joint. Wingshot began to whimper, tears welling in his optics as if he could sense the sorrow in the air.

The battle was over. But the losses were greater than ever before.

Just a few hours ago, you’d seen your whole team alive and well—Brakelight wishing you good luck, Glitchpatch cracking a bad joke, and your captain offering his usual careful words before heading out. Now there was only you, Rotorline, and Medspanner… and Wingshot.

Only three of you left to defend a space bridge that still hums quietly over a battlefield littered with the lifeless frames of your teammates.

You reported the outcome of the battle while Rotorline and Medspanner dug graves for your dead, listing every name of the fallen. But after sending the report, the only reply you received was yet another unanswered ping.

A week after that battle, your energon reserves had dipped below 10%. You had shut down the space bridge to conserve energy and fuel. However, after days of ignored reports and unanswered messages, you were struggling to keep your weapons operational. At this rate, your weapons would be nothing but paperweights by the next cycle.

And you still hadn’t received any answers from command—not even a cold reply about a new captain being assigned or reinforcements being sent to replace your fallen team.

Now it really felt like your post was being deliberately ignored.

With depleting supplies and just three of you, you and Rotorline decided to set out toward the ruins of an old supply station a few kliks north. You left Wingshot with Medspanner at the space bridge, activating a few automated turrets and what little shielding you had left. It wasn’t ideal, but you desperately needed supplies.

The ruined city was a jagged skyline of twisted towers and cracked roads. The atmosphere felt heavy, and you both were on high alert because there was no knowing what would happen if you weren’t.

When you finally reached the station, you found it empty and abandoned. It was clear it had been inactive for some time. Still, you managed to locate a small cache with just enough energon to keep your systems running a little longer. You were so relieved to find supplies that you didn’t even consider the possibility of it being a trap.

What attacked you then was something you had never seen before.

It was massive and hideous. Its long body was supported by a thousand writhing legs, each one carrying and gripping the weight with unsettling precision. Its head was a monstrous, gaping maw lined with jagged rows of teeth. A dreadful stench hung in the air, a sickly mix of dried energon and the decay of dead bots.

You and Rotorline nearly froze in your places when you saw it. Seeing it made you think of the rumors about the infamous Decepticon Shockwave’s creations. He was known for crafting abominations and setting them loose to bring death to any Autobot and unlucky bot who happened to cross their path.

The monster shrieked and attacked. 

You and Rotorline fought back as best you could, but the creature lunged with terrifying speed, slamming Rotorline to the floor hard enough to knock him offline for a second. You quickly checked on him and found him critical. Energon poured from his wound, and he seemed to be paralyzed. The thing's bite was venomous.

Seeing no other options, you fired at an old support beam, sending sparks and shrapnel flying. The station groaned as the ceiling began to collapse. You grabbed Rotorline and hauled him out, your thrusters burning as you barely escaped while the monster was buried under the rubble.

With Rotorline in critical condition, you pushed yourself to get back to the space bridge. Medspanner rushed over the moment he saw you, tools already in hand, and began working to stabilize Rotorline. For a brief moment, it looked like he might make it.

Then Wingshot screamed.

You turned just in time to see the creature from the station tearing through the outer wall.

It had followed you.

The monster shrieked and lunged. Before you could even blink an optic, it had snatched Medspanner in its jaws. His screams were muffled as the creature pushed him inside its mouth, and the teeth ripped him apart, energon spilling from between the plates of its throat.

You nearly froze at the sight. 

Then its gaze locked on Wingshot.

Wingshot screamed as it moved toward him. 

Without hesitation, you threw yourself at the monster before it could reach the sparkling, slamming against it hard enough that it turned its attention toward you. You then flew in the air and unloaded every shot you had left. The rounds barely scratched its armor. It came at you again, forcing you to duck and weave as its teeth snapped inches from your plating.

Rotorline’s voice cut through the chaos. He had managed to drag himself to the space bridge controls, Wingshot beside him. He activated the space bridge, and the portal roared to life. You quickly understood what he was planning.

You baited the creature, luring it toward the glowing vortex. At the last possible moment, you boosted backward out of its path. The monster barreled through the vortex, and Rotorline deactivated the bridge mid-transition. The thing’s scream was cut short as the portal sheared it in half, and its cut-off body fell at the feet of the space bridge.

It was finally dead.

You stumbled over to Rotorline and Wingshot. The sparkling was pressed against the wounded mech’s side, optics wide and tearful. You tried to stop the bleeding, but it was far too late.

“Scrap…” Rotorline rasped. “I’m really messed up this time.”

He looked down at Wingshot, who let out a soft, mournful coo.

“At least you’re okay, kid. Gotta say… you’re the best part of this place.” He gave the sparkling a weak pat before meeting your gaze.

“Sorry, buddy. I’m afraid this is the end for me…”

You begged him not to leave you, telling him you couldn’t watch the bridge alone. His optics softened.

“Buddy… if command ignores you after this… leave this scrap heap. You’ve got something better to defend…right here.” He patted Wingshot’s back.

Then with one last exhale, his optics went dark.

At the sight of his colorless frame, you broke down, sobbing. Wingshot’s cries joined yours as he shook Rotorline gently, as if he could wake him.

Two hours since the fight with the monster, you stared blankly at the graves you had made for your team. Just a week ago, you had built markers for Brakelight, Glitchpatch, and Stonemarch. And the others. Now, two more joined them—Rotorline and Medspanner.

Wingshot cooed softly in your arms. You held him closer. Now it was just two of you, and this accursed space bridge. 

The quarters were silent. Eerily silent. Once filled with bad jazz music, laughter, and the easy voices of your team, now there was nothing but silence. Only Wingshot’s soft snoring and the low, constant hum of the space bridge.

The dim room was lit only by the glow of your datapad as you typed your report—alone, the last one left to do it. You logged the events, added two more names to the casualty list… and paused when you heard a faint noise.

The hum cut out.

Knowing what it meant, you added the last line to the report:

0% fuel. Space bridge non-operational.

Then you sent it.

You skimmed through the other unanswered reports. Their dates served as an awful reminder of how long you had gone unanswered, and how, during that time, your entire team had been wiped out. 

Turning off the datapad, you stood up and walked to the security consoles. You set the motion alarms to their highest sensitivity. If something came, you wanted to know the instant it crossed the perimeter.

Then you walked over to the berth where Wingshot was sleeping, carefully lying beside him and gently wrapping your arms around his small frame. You held him tightly against your chest, as if it could keep him from being taken next, before closing your optics and falling into a dreamless sleep. 

For the next few days, you stayed on the highest alert, barely getting enough recharge to keep going. Perhaps out of some mercy—or simple disinterest—the Decepticons ignored your location. The rations on hand lasted longer with just the two of you, though you often gave your own share to Wingshot so he wouldn’t have to starve.

Despite your latest report—one that should have been impossible for command to ignore—you’d heard nothing back.

Rotorline’s words echoed in your mind. Leave this scrap heap. Maybe you should. But where would you go? If you abandoned your post, you could be punished. Worse, you could run into another monster and fail to protect Wingshot.

You just didn’t know what to do.

Then, one late cycle, as dusk painted golden streaks across the jagged metal plains, you stood outside keeping watch. That’s when a figure emerged from the shadows.

“Who goes there?!” you called, drawing your weapon.

The figure froze and raised their hands.

“Please! I’m just an old bot!” a voice answered. As the stranger stepped closer, you saw the truth in their words—dented plating, worn joints, slow, careful movements. Their frame bore the weight of years, and you saw no Autobot or Decepticon badge.

“A neutral?” you asked, lowering your weapon slightly.

“I mean no harm,” the bot said, voice steady but tired. “I only ask for a place to stay the night… and perhaps a cup of energon.” Their face was kind. Weathered, but not untrustworthy.

Despite the voices in the back of your mind telling you not to trust what you were seeing, wanting to uphold some sense of kind hospitality, you allowed the old bot inside your quarters. 

After helping them settle in a warm corner, you returned with a half-cracked canister holding the smallest measure of energon. “I’m sorry. This is all we can offer. Our supplies are nearly gone—we can barely sustain ourselves.”

The stranger accepted it with both hands and bowed their head. “This is more than enough. Kindness is rare these days… especially from soldiers.”

You sat down across from them, Wingshot curled up against your side, his tired optics studying the visitor.

The stranger sipped quietly before looking around. “Are you the only ones here? Odd, for just one bot to guard a space bridge.”

You hesitated, then began telling the bot everything that had happened, the downfall of your entire team, how your reports had gone unanswered, how you had found Wingshot and ended up the only ones left.

The bot looked at you sympathetically, offering their condolences, then asked gently, “Why stay here? Why keep guarding this forgotten gate?”

Your gaze lingered on the floor. “…I’m not sure. Maybe I’m afraid of what happens if I leave,” you answered. “What if…” You glanced down at Wingshot. “I make the wrong decision, and he pays for it?” 

You let out a long breath. “I used to think the Autobots stood for something—freedom, justice, hope. But the longer this war goes on, the more gray it all becomes,” you said. “I don’t even know if I believe in the cause anymore, “you uttered. 

“It feels like we’ve been ignored on purpose,” you said. “If command had answered our reports and sent the supplies we needed, maybe most of my team would still be alive.”

You brushed your servo over Wingshot’s helm. “He’s the last good thing I’ve got. A friend said I should leave—that Wingshot is the better thing to protect than this blasted space bridge that doesn’t even have fuel anymore,” you added.

“I want to do the right thing, or at least protect what truly matters,” you said.

You collected yourself and apologized, realizing you’d been more sentimental than usual in front of the stranger.

The stranger studied you for a long moment. Then, with a quiet smile, they set down the empty cup and reached out.

Their hand—cool and scarred—took yours with surprising strength.

“The unknown can be frightening,” the old bot said. “You’ve been strong for so long and lost so much, yet you still have the strength to protect something as precious as this little one.” They nodded toward Wingshot, who was now sleeping against your side.

“So I believe you’ll have the courage to do what you think is right.” The old bot smiled gently. “Don’t be afraid to follow your spark when the orders don’t make sense.”

“Thank you for your kind words,” you said softly. The old bot smiled again. “And if you ever have doubts, ask yourself what your team would tell you to do.” Their words made you pause and reflect. “I might not have known them, but hearing you talk, they sounded like a caring bunch.”

“They were…” you replied quietly.

The old bot smiled once more, and the night passed in a peaceful silence.

At the first light of morning, you and Wingshot saw the stranger off.

“I’m afraid I can’t give much,” you told them. “Are you sure you don’t want any weapons to defend yourself during your travels?”

The old bot smiled. “I carry no such things.”

They looked at you warmly. “I thank you, soldier. You have been so kind for sparing me a cup of energon and letting me stay the night.”

You nodded. “It’s the least I can offer in these hard times. I’ll admit, I partly expected you to suddenly turn into a monster and eat us in our sleep," you said, earning a chuckle from them.

“But I’m glad you didn’t. It’s been… difficult to trust what I see these days,” you murmured.

“I’m afraid I cannot give much in return,” the old bot said, extending their hands. “But I can offer my blessing.”

You placed your hand in theirs.

“I bless that when the sun burns low and shadows close in—when your limbs fail and hope seems lost—in sunlight’s embrace, you shall find the strength to protect what lies behind you,” the old bot intoned.

A gentle warmth settled in your spark. You didn’t think much of it, but you gave a grateful nod. “I thank you for your blessing.”

You stood tall and offered a respectful nod. “May your road be safe.”

“And may yours lead to more than survival,” the stranger replied before stepping out into the pale morning. “Farewell, good soldier, and farewell, little one.”

“Bye…” Wingshot gave a tiny wave.

You glanced at Wingshot, then remembered something. If the bot wanted to know any safe places…

“Hey—do you—” you looked up, but the stranger was gone, as if they’d never been there. Confusion settled in you. With their age and slow movements, they shouldn’t have been able to disappear so quickly.

It was strange… and stranger still, in the morning light, you felt more energetic than you had in days. Whatever the reason, you were glad for such an ordinary encounter—no matter how odd it had been.

The comm unit crackled to life for the first time in cycles.

“Space Bridge Outpost 45. Space Bridge Outpost 45,” the voice repeated.

You scrambled to your feet, startled that someone had actually contacted you. At the comm unit, you pushed the receive button. 

A blue hologram of a mid-ranking Autobot officer fizzled into view—prim-polished armor, stern features, and the unmistakable smugness of someone who had never seen real battle.

“Scout (Name) of Space Bridge Outpost 45, responding,” you responded with a salute. 

“A scout? Where is your team leader?” he asked with an unimpressed tone.

“Fallen in battle. Have you not read the reports I’ve sent?” you asked, confusion bleeding into your tone.

“No matter,” he said briskly. “We’ve received your previous transmission. We have an upcoming mission that requires the space bridge to be operational again, so we’ll be sending supplies and—possibly—a new captain.”

You let out a breath. Finally.

“However,” he continued, “a Decepticon warband has been detected heading toward your location. You are to hold the bridge at all costs until reinforcements arrive. Estimated ETA: three hours.”

You stared at the hologram. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am quite serious. You and your team—”

“My team? There is no team!” you snapped, cutting him off. “I’m on my own here. You’d know that if you actually read the reports!”

“That is… unfortunate. Well… nothing can be done. You must defend it yourself,” the Autobot officer said. 

You stared at him, appalled. 

“I can’t defend this bridge by myself.”

 “Improvise. You must have operational defensive systems,” he said. 

“They’ve been offline since three cycles ago. There’s no fuel. Can’t you send a team ahead of schedule?” you asked, nearly desperately. 

“I don’t appreciate your tone, scout,” he said, frowning. “We will stick to the planned schedule, and in the meantime, you are expected to comply with the orders you have been given.” 

“You think I can hold back a full-on Decepticon assault with a standard-issue rifle and a sparkling clinging to my leg? That’s suicide!” you nearly yelled at him.

“Soldier. If you leave your post, I will have you court-martialed. You will hold that bridge until we arrive,” the officer stated.

Something inside you snapped. He expected you to defend the bridge on your own? At that moment, Rotorline’s and the stranger’s words echoed in your mind. You asked yourself what your team would have done. Brakelight and Glitchpatch would have been outraged by this. Even Medspanner would have called it unreasonable. And Stonemarch… he would have been furious.

You glanced at Wingshot, who looked at you quietly with a trusting look, unaware of what would come if you followed those orders.

In that moment, you didn’t even doubt what your team would say if you asked whether you should leave this place. Deep down, you knew they would say yes.

You turned toward the officer.

“Come defend it yourself,” you said coldly.

“Excuse me?” the officer blinked.

“Frag your orders. Frag you, your polished desk, and your empty commands! You want the bridge held? You come here and hold it!” you spat, every word sharp enough to cut metal.

“You are dangerously close to insubordination—”

“I am insubordinate,” you growled. “I’m done dying for a cause that treats lives like spare bolts. I’ve watched good bots bleed out waiting for a reply that never came. I’ve buried teammates while you sipped energon and made maps,” you spat. 

You looked back at Wingshot, who stood quietly behind you, wide-eyed but trusting.

“Come on, Wingshot. We’re leaving this place.”

“Soldier! If you leave your post, you will be marked as a traitor and a deserter!” the officer barked.

You ignored him, gathering what little gear you had—rations, emergency energon, field tools, Wingshot’s small datapads, and his blanket.

“You know what?” you turned toward him. “I’d rather be a deserter than a disposable pawn. I’ve got one good thing left in this world, and it’s not this bridge.”

You tore the Autobot badge from your chest and slammed it down in front of the holo-projector.

“I’m officially done. Good luck getting your bridge back, glitchhead.”

The officer stared at you in stunned silence.

“This will not be over, Scou—”

You cut the channel before he could finish.

Lifting Wingshot into your arms, you stepped outside onto the platform. The space bridge loomed behind you—silent, cold, as forgotten as those who had died defending it.

You looked to the horizon, then down at Wingshot. “Hold tight. This will be a long trip… but we are never coming back here.”

“Promise…?” Wingshot asked softly.

“Promise,” you said, just as softly.

Transforming into your alt-mode, you rose into the air and pulled away from the bridge. The wind rushed past your frame as you swept over the graves of your team. For a fleeting moment, you swore you could feel their sparks—cheering you on and wishing you good fortune.

Despite the gnawing fear of what might lie ahead, a strange sense of freedom settled over you. No longer will you be bound to a half-empty cause or fight for bots who could not give two scraps about you.

With Wingshot secured inside, you flew toward whatever waited beyond the horizon.

Flying low over Cybertron’s scarred landscape, Wingshot tucked safely within your alt mode, you kept to quiet, careful speed. Every vibration in your frame felt louder than it should, every shadow a possible threat.

You’d deserted the Autobots. That left only one real destination: the Neutral Zone. Not safe, exactly, but safer than staying under any faction’s banner. You’d rather take your chances among neutrals than serve alongside bots who no longer acted on the principles their cause claimed to uphold. With luck and credits you managed to gather, you might find someone willing to take you and Wingshot off-world.

It gave you no pleasure to leave your home, but better to take your chances somewhere else than on your war-torn planet. 

At first, the flight was quiet. Peaceful, even. Then the shots came.

The first round slammed into your plating with a sharp, ringing crack. You banked hard on instinct, HUD flaring crimson. Five incoming Decepticon signatures—fast, aggressive, and closing in.

You quietly cursed. Why now? Why bother coming after alone bot? 

Then you remembered that the Decepticons weren’t against attacking neutral bots for no greater reason. For all you knew, you were just target practice. 

Well... you were gonna show them that you were not going to be an easy target.

You told Wingshot to hold on as you made evasive maneuvers. You darted between shattered towers and twisted skyrails, alarms screaming in your helm. Each wingbeat rattled your frame as tracer fire tore past. The seekers stayed on you, relentless.

You dove toward a jagged skyline, weaving between the skeletal remains of old buildings. One advantage of being smaller was that you could maneuver easily and quickly through tight spaces.

The cons avoided flying through the rubble, but one seeker closed in, riding your tail.

You spotted a gap ahead, too small for the seeker but small enough for you to slip through. Perfect. 

You flew toward the gap as the con still came after you. At the last moment, you transformed to bot mode mid-flight, clutching Wingshot to your chest. You blasted through the narrow breach, twisting your wings smaller, then shifted back to alt mode as the seeker tried to follow—only to slam into the structure with a satisfying explosion.

One down. Four to go.

You pushed further into the ruins until you found a sheltered alcove between collapsed girders. You stopped there to stay hidden as the structure could dampen your signal on their scanners. There, you tried to wait them out. 

“Come out, little bot!” one of the cons yelled as they circled the area. "We're not gonna hurt you... much!"  he said as sinister laughter followed.

You silently cursed. They weren’t leaving. They were fully intending to get you and do primus know what. 

Your spark sank. Waiting them out wasn’t an option, but neither was running. You were fast, but they were faster—especially in open space.

The city ruins could give you an advantage. If you stick close to cover and avoid the open spaces, you just might have a chance.

You turned to Wingshot, kneeling so your optics met his. “Stay here. No matter what. Do not come out.”

His optics flickered, uncertain. “Okay…”

You tightened your grip on your weapon. You did not have much ammo, so you had to make every shot count. “I’ll be right back.”

Then you transformed, flying out of the hiding place.

One other advantage you had over the seekers was that you could fly far more quietly and tail them without giving yourself away. 

With an element of surprise, you shadowed two of the cons. With your targeting system locked on one of them, you fired. A clean shot ripped through the engine of the first con, sending them plummeting toward the ground in a spiral of flame. 

Two down. Three more to go. 

You aimed at the second con on your system and fired. It evaded your shot, forcing you to give chase. The con led you weaving desperately through the ruins, nearly pushing you to the edge of panic—because if the last two arrived, it would be over.

By luck, you finally clipped the con’s wing, causing them to lose control and crash into one of the rusted skyplates.

Three down. Two more to go.

Your momentary relief was short-lived as the last two seekers arrived, hot on your tail. You dodged their shots and tried to return fire, desperate to keep them at bay.

Then—click.

Out of ammo.

"Slag."

The seeker’s aim sharpened now that they knew you couldn’t shoot back. You darted and banked, every jolt draining more from your dwindling energon reserves. You tried to think of another solution, but only things that came to mind were combat moves you learned during your training. 

Guess you had no other choice but to combat them by hand. 

You led one of the seekers higher into the sky. At the right moment, you transformed into bot mode and let gravity pull you down.

At point-blank range, you ignited your boosters and drove your heel into their helm in a powerful drop-kick, sending them spiraling into the canyon below.

They exploded on impact, the blast lighting up the canyon floor. It gave you a sense of satisfaction. Even if you were smaller than them, you could still hit hard. 

Four down. 

One left to go.

The last con came at you like a thunderbolt. Without warning, their wing slammed into your abdomen, sending a sharp shock of pain through your frame. Before you could react, they transformed mid-air and seized you, pushing you downward with brutal force. They aimed to crush you against the unforgiving ground — a violent end by impact.

Your body screamed in agony, every servo trembling. Your energon levels were dangerously low. Your spark thudded wildly in your chest, each beat a reminder of how close you were to fading. You struggled desperately, but the con’s grip was merciless, squeezing the last drops of strength from your battered frame.

“You’re finished, little bot,” the Decepticon snarled, venom dripping from his voice. “No one’s coming to save you.”

Fear welled inside you—not for yourself, but for Wingshot. The thought of leaving him alone, unprotected, struck deeper than any wound. This could not be your end. You could not leave him by himself after everything you went through. 

Then—sunlight.

A piercing beam cut through the clouds, striking your frame mid-dive.

And then…

Warmth.

You looked at Cybertron’s sun as the old stranger’s words echoed in your memory. 

“In sunlight’s embrace… when all hope seems lost… You shall find the strength to protect what lies behind you.”

Strange energy ignited within you. A hot surge ran through your veins, filling your limbs with strength that hadn’t been there moments ago. Your HUD system suddenly became stable, and you felt the weakness disappear. 

You grabbed onto the con's servos around your neck. The con looked shocked as you suddenly had the strength to pry him off and use the booster on your legs to blast his face, forcing him to let you go. 

As the con recovered, he looked around—and found you gone. Then he glanced upward, spotting you with your blaster aimed at him, humming to life once more and glowing with an eerie, unknown energy.

You fired.

A beam of pure energy surged forth, striking the final con square in the chest and erupting in a spectacular explosion. His wings melted from the intense heat as he spiraled down toward the earth far below.

Exhaustion overtaking you, your body went limp as you began to fall from the sky. With no strength to control the descent, you only managed to glide enough to avoid a direct crash. You hit the ground with a thud, skidding through debris and dust before stillness finally overtook you.

You awoke to quiet static and the gentle prodding of tiny servos.

“Wake up…” a small voice pleaded. “(Name). Please… wake up!”

When your optics flickered online, you saw Wingshot.

You blinked your optics fully back online. The sun was still warm overhead, and Wingshot sat beside you, dusty and worried, his tiny fingers resting on your chest.

“Wingshot…” you said gently, still a bit out of it.

Tears began to form in his little optics. “Sorry. I know you said not to come out no matter what. But when you didn’t come back, I got scared. Then I found you here…” he began to sob. “I thought you weren’t going to wake up.”

You gently embraced him. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“I still have more fight left in me.”

Then you noticed how oddly stable you felt. Despite your low energon levels, your energy was surprisingly steady, and your wounds seemed healed.

You glanced down and saw an odd symbol on your chest, replacing your previous badge. When you looked at it, the symbol suddenly vanished, along with the strange sensation.

Odd.

You recalled the stranger and the surge of energy you’d felt while in the sun’s embrace. It was like… in your direst moment, an unknown energy had come to your aid.

You began to think your encounter with the stranger hadn’t been entirely normal.

“Come on, Wingshot,” you said, picking him up in your arms. “We better keep moving, or more mean Decepticons will come.”

He plunges himself deeply inside you, over and over, staggeringly fast and passionately merciless. He wears a cocky smirk and his red optics blaze at your submissive gestures, his sharp digits clutched tightly around your hips as they writhe against his ravenous energy.

You, an Autobot spy, had been sneaking around within their ship on a mission to gather intel on their future plans. It wasn’t the first time you’d snuck in, but tonight was the first when you purposely allowed yourself to "get caught" by him. In the confines of his quarters, greetings and talks regarding where you both currently stood were brief, just enough to bring you two to this… particular culmination.

Though you wear the insignia, your secret attraction to the Decepticons’ air commander threatened your stance in this war. That and the clear sign that for a really long time, the Autobots were getting nowhere; their battle losses a majority in comparison to the Cons, and honestly, you've been beginning to think that maybe their means of obtaining peace is the way, that your methods of securing certain objectives align more fittingly with your adversaries than the faction you’ve been with since the start. You’ve been harboring this strong feeling becoming in your spark that perhaps your true place is with the Decepticons. You were being drawn to them and especially to him. As startling as it was to realize your feelings for him, your initial denial lasted very shortly. There are qualities about him that charm you — you also considered him very handsome — and you were genuinely not abashed in thinking of him the way that you do. Every thought and feeling that you felt… it all just felt right.

Your moan crescendos until he cuts you off promptly with an enrapturing kiss, feeling his avid smile mesh against your dermas as he careers his spike continually into your pulsating valve. His servos slide downward to squeeze your thighs and hold them wide, glossa entangling deliciously with yours.

Long prior to this time, you found out that he too felt mutual about you, given the number of times you both caught each other’s gaze across the battleground to some swift one-on-one interactions with each other. A nice balance of the verbal and physical engagements, as well as passing smiles to each other from afar whenever possible. Fortunately, somehow, no one from either side had noticed anything between you two, and it was going to stay that way for just a little longer.

He refrains from the temptation to whisk out a highly charged moan from you, slowing down momentarily to purr into your audial instead. “My dear, you’ll make a model Decepticon here, and imagine what we will accomplish…” He suddenly thrusts hard to make you yelp, influencing him to press a few quick kisses to your cheek before he leans seductively close once more. "At long last, we are together."

Your optics roll back as one corner of your dermas curl upward, slightly baring your dentas as another lovely sound yields from your intake, just before you are taken by his hungry lips again. Even before this point, just preceding your latest infiltration, you've already cemented your decision that you no longer care to return to the Autobots. Not tonight. Not ever.

The overload was near, and seconds before it would occur, you pleaded for him to make you his, followed by a flurry of desirous cries, grunts, and repetitions of “yes!”

“The mines?” Prowl asked, showing some discomfort.

You held out a servo to Prowl, “Do you trust me?”

If it were anyone else, Prowl might have hesitated, but he trusted you with not only his life, but his spark as well. He placed his servo in yours, allowing you to lead him, though now he did start asking questions.

“Why are we here?”

“I recently met some interesting humans. They told me about their conservation efforts in these woods.”

“I see,” Prowl replied. He had a keen interest in conservation and protecting all the precious life that Earth had to offer.

“They told me about the mines. It isn’t deemed safe for them to explore here, as fragile as they are, but places like this are the prime spot for bats to roost. They requested that we enter and perform a count, see if there are as many as there should be.”

“Fascinating.”

You nodded, declining to tell him that you had recently come to the mines alone to scope out the area and determine it was safe. You had an internalised map of many of the caverns.

“Let’s go.”

Prowl nodded, the fear of the mines fading when in your company. He felt you give his servo a soft squeeze and let out a puff of air. He was safe with you.

Prowl stared upwards at the overhanging stalactites, illuminated by the soft blue glow.

“Waste from glow-worms,” You explained, smiling softly.

Prowl held out his servo for you, and you took it, letting him guide you until you were stood with your back to his chassis. His chin rested on your shoulder.

“It’s beautiful,” he said.

You nodded. For an organic bi-product, the glow-worm excrement was indeed beautiful.

The two of you waited together. There was no rush to move or to do anything. The world in the cave was silent, a reprieve from the difficulties of life. Being in the City made staying still seem like a waste, as if productivity was the sole meaning of life. But, in the cave, away from all that, allowed you both to take a moment and not worry about what you were supposed to be doing.

Maybe you weren’t supposed to do anything more than exist, and that was okay.

Late into the night, after observing many of the invertebrates that made the cave their dwelling, there was a pleasant animal screech.

“Bats?” Prowl said prompting you to move further into the old mines.

“Bats,” You agreed, ready to search for the creatures known to frighten so many, but fascinate Prowl.

Now that the bats were alert and waking up for their nightly routine, it was easy to follow the chittering till you found them.

Prowl observed them appreciatively.

They looked so graceful and majestic, fluttering expertly through the cave. You sighed contently and leaned against Prowl’s shoulder. He wrapped his arm around your waist.

Neither of you said anything. The two of you enjoying one another’s company while counting the bats for the survey. You were happy to see some bat pups in a maternity roost, vocalising in babbles as they learned their language.

Prowl guided you down to the ground so you could both sit comfortably, camping out overnight to temporarily be one with nature.

“Thank you,” He whispered, not wanting to disturb the creatures in their natural habitat. “This is wonderful.”

You smiled but didn’t reply, absentmindedly pressing your hand to one of the subspaces on your thigh. The weight of a Conjunx gift lay inside. You sighed contentedly. It would wait till the morning. You didn’t want anything to disturb the delicate bubble that separated the two of you from the rest of the world.

Consider buying me a Ko-Fi so I can pay for therapy.

It was normal for you to not go on much mission as the rest of your Autobots teemates.

Being that because you were not one to hurt bots, and that you have just gotten in the war from your unexpected stasis from your trip to earth, Decepticons or not, they are once a normal civilian before this war started.

So you mostly stayed at the Ark, helping any bots that may need a second servo, helping them reach for any item at a high place, or just help them in general.

And that is how you got into this situation, lost and in a universe you are unfamiliar with.

How? Well it's quite simple, prowl needed you to help him on some ship check out, basically seeing if anything was out of the ordinary.

And when you were checking WheelJack's storage of his failed gadget, some of them having some charged area where the gadget has exploded at.

While you were heading back, your big frame accidentally bump into a self, luckily, you grabbed the self before the items could fall off.

But you didn't realise a small gadget have dropped onto the ground, creating a portal that suck you in.

===================

This other universe also have their own human, although their stuff were more unique than the ones you have seen spike brings to the Ark, this items seems less complex but was still as complex.

Blue Cop never have thought that a giant white bot would appear in the WorkShop, while he was battling Mega Trucker of all times, did you have teleportation base skills or something?

Jun try to seal you, but for some reason it didn't works on you, Mega Trucker have wined about it being unfair, you can basically rome around freely while he have to listen to order from the chil.

Blue Cop was grateful that you are more tolerable than Mega Trucker, being able to follow simple order without the use of the metal breath's magic.

You are mostly crouching when they first meet you, they have never seen you in your full height, until you got out of the WorkShop to stretch your wings, which makes them question their own height, and you have mouth?!

Not to mention how strong you are, being able to lift an entire truck with just one servo, while the both of them struggle with both of their servo.

When Jun have sealed Mega Amblr, he was surprise that you couldn't be sealed, Jun even proved it to him by trying to seal you, but it just goes through you, like you were not meant to be sealed.

So you decided to tell them of your stories, who you were not a cardbot like them, and that you were a race of sentient robot call Cybertroniun.

How you were once a scientist, and have a friend named StarScream, how you were frozen and got found by the Decepticon, the war, and seeing how your once best friend have change for the worst, and how you decided to become an Autobot and how you got here.

It was allot for the small team and three humans to unfold, them having become silent just to make sure you were saying this correctly in their mind, and not their mind playing tricks on them.

Now that explain why the metal breath didn't sealed you, and you having mouth.

Months have pass, and with that came some new teammates, they sometimes said that they wish to be in your spot, being that you could do anything without being forced to be sealed.

Phoenix Fire, is a bit scare of your tall and big strukture, but he got over it when seeing how kid and gentall you are.

Shadow X have pranked you, but didn't got a negative reaction from you, only a soft laugh and a " good job little one, you caught me off guard ", that makes him feel happy inside, so he rarely seen trying to prank you.

Anna have though you are one of the cardbot Jun sealed, so when Jun said that you are not a cardbot, and that you couldn't be sealed, she was sceptical about it.

Until jun proves it by calling everyone back into his metal breath, all of the cardbot was call back, but not you, you just stand there and smile softly at the pink hair girl.

During when the SpaceShip was about to crash into the neighbourhood, you try to gives Mega Trucker some of your energy, but due to you being a Cybertroniun, you couldn't do anything to help them.

When Heavy Iron attack the team with his lazer beam, you stand in front of them, causing you to take the full attack, Mega Amblr tries his best to fix you when the team got back to the WorkShop.

It was quite hard fixing you up, your systems are more complex than he initially thought, and it look along time for them to finish fixing you.

===================

When you woke up from your stasis, you notice that are more cardbot than before, they have already been told of your back stories from Blue Cop or Mega Amblr, so you didn't have to retold them of your stories.

You learned that Wild Guardy was sealed reasendly, and that he was a fan of Blue Cop back on Machina.

Dexter have show you some stray animal he found on the street, you particularly love watching them play with the cat toys Edo bought for the kitten, and even likes petting their soft head.

Fleta Z sometimes ask to have a flight with you, being the only bot that transformed into a plain, it's great being able to fly with a friend, he sometimes plays his flute near you, indicating his trust towards you.

Wild Guardy didn't talk to you at first, but he slowly started opening up to you, he soon learn that you are a great listener, so sometimes he rant about how unfit he is for the Star Guardian rank, and how he was defeated by Blue Cop.

When Jun was sick, you and Fleta were ask by Anna to protect Jun while he recover from his cold, you enjoy doing the poses with the two, and were able to protect Anna from the black crew.

You enve Buffalo Crush for not putting Jun's parents in danger for the metal breath, and he like that you are not harsh on him, even feasting with him if given the chance, he just likes how kind and pure you are, he'll 100% protect you if needed.

Buster Galon was quite surprise that you were once a scientist, he ask you about your pass as scientist, and you teach him some of what you knew, even teaching him your languages, he was a quick learner to say the least, already knowing how to write some simple sentences with your languages.

Black Hook didn't like that you are a help or two taller than him, sure Heavy Iron was taller than him, but you are kind and nice, all while being taller than him, this is unfair ' he thought to himself '.

Heavy Iron was not fase that you are taller than him, he have seen your height, but the things that surprises him the most, was how kind you are to him, all while knowing that he is the one who blasted that lazer at you and the team.

===================

Your life with the Cardbot seems peaceful, no more disturbance from other cardbots, a fun time with your new friends, it seams perfect, that is until a red cardbot show up and send your new friends into nowhere.

When you notice Jun came back without the teams, and with a unknown girl with him, you were confuse and scare for the teams safety.

When you help Jun sealed Siero, he thought you were sealed, but was explain that you were not a cardbot nor from this world, that caught him off guard, you? From another world? How?!

Musclehyde thought you were also a cardbot, then wanting an interview with you, later Siero explain that you are not a cardbot, and that you can't be sealed, which gives him more question to ask you when on another interview with you.

Rock Crush is such a cutie, you love his shy personality, and you wish you could have protect him back when he got traumatised, you just happy he is doing alright, and he appreciated you being here with him when he got scared from the team from time to time.

Red Blitz was just like Shadow X, but have more anger issues, you have calmed him down enough for him to not wreck the WorkShop, Red Blitz have thought that you were trying to change him, but that was soon change when you told him about your paas friend, saying he is like CliffJumper.

You didn't see Deep Bite as a monster, if anything, you see him as a fellow cardbot, and he is really grateful that you show him kindness upon first meeting, he don't know how you could be this kind all while being this big.

Blasttrain likes your company, he likes how you are always so gentle with the humans, especially to the children.

Sky Gallop thought you were sealed, but soon learned that isn't the case when he get to meet you properly, and love how you are so kind and nice to other cardbot, and soon learn what you really are.

Gigantrex didn't get much time to know you, but the way his son Red Blitz talks about you, makes him wanted to meet you, and maybe even get to know you better.

Glober thought you are too kind for the world, he is happy to see that you and Rock Crush is getting along well, it makes him happy knowing his friends have found another friend to talk to.

Spark Beat and Flash Vector didn't get to know you sadly, but they certainly wanted to get to know you, hearing good things about you, and how kind and pure you are.

Flame Nova didn't know what to think of you, you are kind that's for sure, but it makes him feel weird inside when you talk to him in a way like he haven't just did a bad thing, your sertendly a rare one to find.