This chapter contains graphic non-con! If you don't like it, don't read it!

Cybertronian time measurements according to 'The AllSpark Almanac':

nanoklik ~ a second

cycle ~ 1,5 minutes

megacycle ~ 2,6 hours

solar cycle ~ a day

orbital cycle ~ a month

stellar cycle ~ a year

Prowl's spark fluttered under his chestplates, just at the brief thought of what had happened earlier this solar cycle. Now, he was relaxing on the berth, lying on his front and just thinking about the past events.

Unsurprisingly, Blurr had been avoiding him and Bumblebee for the rest of the solar cycle, not even properly looking in their direction. He had only come to the room a few moments ago, occupying the farthest part of the berth. It was time to recharge, and this large berth was simply the most comfortable place for that.

But in any case, his attention wasn't on Blurr nor on his behaviour; what mattered lay not far away. He looked to the side, his gaze sweeping over Bumblebee. Even if what had happened between the two of them would not have happened under different circumstances and had no impacting consequences, he couldn't get that warm feeling out of his processor.

Burying his faceplate in the bedding again, he lost himself in his thoughts. With the drug out of his system, he could now concentrate on more pressing matters. For example, what was going on outside this apartment?

The only concrete information he had was the Autobots had lost, Megatron and his Decepticons had won, and the Elite Guard was out of the picture somehow. But did this mean the Autobots had fully stopped fighting? Were they killed or locked away in prisons? Primus, being kept in the dark was killing him just as much as being kept here. And the only bot here who could probably help him put some light on their predicament refused to do so.

Blurr remained tight-lipped about the Autobots' general situation ever since he onlined here. He used vague language about how without the Elite Guard they were doomed as a nation but gave no details. Perhaps Blurr wasn't ready to talk about it, but didn't he and Bumblebee deserve to know the truth? They were Autobots in the same way that Blurr was.

As if on cue, the sound of the door opening snapped him back to reality. Immediately, he picked himself up and listened. There was clearly a commotion downstairs. What was it, exactly? Or, more precisely, who was it?

His spark constricting in the mix of dread and anticipation, his gaze darted between his companions. Concern creased their groggy faceplates, and none of them dared to say a word.

Then there was more commotion. Panic rose in his circuits despite himself, his helm swinging in the door's direction.

Who could it be?

Decepticons? Autobots?

Could it be Shockwave again, with yet another sick experiment in his processor? Who else even knew they were being held here?

The noises got clearer and clearer until he realized he was listening in on a conversation. So it wasn't a single individual. Furthermore, none of the voices resembled Shockwave.

As he continued to stare into the corridor, his spark began pounding madly in his chamber. Perhaps he was overthinking things, worrying needlessly? Perhaps someone had arrived to set them free?

In any case, the voices grew louder, cutting into his thoughts. His optics flicked back to his companions, not sure what to do.

Blurr cast him a determined look, apparently not sharing his doubts. "Under the berth," he ordered, barely louder than a whisper.

And with that, Blurr got off the berth. But Bumblebee didn't budge, staring petrified at the corridor's direction.

"Go," he whispered, pulling Bumblebee by his servo. Bumblebee's attention snapped back to him, and he followed Blurr's example, much to his relief.

He hated the idea of hiding, but what other options did they have, really?

Once all three of them were tightly squeezed between the floor and the berth, their guests started to climb the stairs, judging by the sounds.

Then, the sounds changed (had they climbed the stairs already?). With each passing nanoklik, the repetitive thumps of two pairs of pedes became louder and louder.

Energon in his circuitry turned into ice. The sound of those pedefalls was far heavier than what he was used to hearing.

Decepticons...

"... wants it to be an argument hard to refute," a mech said, as the strangers evidently entered the room, stomping loudly.

What is that supposed to mean?

"He also said 'no permanent damage', you iron-brained idiot. Do you want him to be displeased?"

He didn't like the sound of that, icy fear seeping into his spark. Bumblebee trembled next to him, frantically enough he began to shake himself.

"Well, I- ahem, no, no, I don't."

"Anyway, take these." The stranger hesitated. "Put them all around the room. We have to capture every detail." Another pause. "Wait, where is that dumbaft? Don't tell me he got lost downstairs."

Put what around the room? What were those cons setting out to do? Still, that remained secondary to the weight of the unnerving fact of them simply being here.

More loud steps rang out.

"I've heard that, you jerk," said another voice, a third mech. "I found some Energon distributor and I guess I lost track of time." He paused. "Where are those pipsqueaks?"

He froze, his engine stalling dead. He couldn't even bring himself to look at others, too scared to make any noise.

"Under the berth, where else could they be?"

Primus, no.

"Oh, come on, Autobots. Hiding under the berth? Tsk-tsk, so rude!" the third mech mocked.

The Decepticons erupted into laughter. His spark dropped.

"I think you're scaring them, Harness!"

"Oh, slag it. I have to do all the hard work! Again!"

And before he knew it, the berth was being lifted. He all but jumped when the berth was positioned upright against the wall, revealing them completely. But it was the view before him that turned his Energon cold. Two large Decepticons were standing nearby, a grey one, and a silver and navy coloured, and then a third, sporting a mustard and green paint job, joined them shortly after.

They were definitely smaller than Starscream or Shockwave, bordering more on Swindle's size. But it wasn't simply their stature that made his paint job crawl; it was also the way they were staring in their direction, in any way short of leering.

"Oh, how small they are! And what fun colours they have," a silver and navy one cheerfully remarked, causing his fellow cons to laugh.

He couldn't move, too terrified and shocked. His tank got lodged in his intake.

However, when one of the Decepticons took a step forward, everything inside him sprung back to life. He leaped to his pedes, and immediately, he was struck by how much larger this grey mech in front of him was. Having grabbed Bumblebee's arm, he helped him stand, and then both stepped back until his backplates bumped into the standing berth. He barely even noticed Blurr huddling alongside them.

At this point, he could only press his backplates into the berth, with no more room behind him, as the grey con took another stride towards them. The large servo reached in their direction. His spark was pounding, his chestplates felt tight, and he was absolutely terrified.

The Decepticon grabbed Bumblebee by the shoulder, causing him to shriek. He gasped, his optics widening. The con only chuckled, amused, as he started to drag Bumblebee away. Energon in his circuitry boiled.

"Leave him alone!" he yelled, grabbing Bumblebee and kicking the large mech in the legs.

The Decepticon came to a halt and gazed at him. He glowered back, clutching Bumblebee. Bumblebee's cooling fans buzzed feverishly as he trembled uncontrollably, sobbing.

He didn't even have time to flinch when the big servo shot towards his helm. As searing pain flared on his faceplate, his grip on Bumblebee faltered. He hadn't even noticed when he was wrenched from his servos. Staggering and dizzy, he rubbed his aching faceplate. The flavour of Energon flooded his mouth, his vision darkening.

Something wrapped around his neck out of nowhere, yanking him back to reality. After resetting his optics, he realised he was seeing the mustard and green con right in front of him. The one called Harness. The mech gave him a disdainful sneer, and the next thing he knew, he was being hauled off his pedes.

Not wanting to be decapitated, he grasped his assailant's arm with both of his servos, his digits desperately digging into the plating, his pedes kicking the air.

"Let go of me!" he choked out, revving his engine furiously.

"Ho ho, so feisty! Such an aggressive little thing. Don't worry, Autobot. This con will show you your place," said Harness.

As squeals and shouts erupted around him, he dangled helplessly in the air, getting increasingly dizzy. For a moment, a deafening bang drowned out the ruckus, signalling the berth had returned to its regular horizontal position.

In short order, he was thrown onto the berth. His backplates slammed into the mattress, the world spinning around him. A distorted image of Blurr swept over him as he was coming back to his senses. Without a servo crashing his intake, he could ventilate properly again. He may not have breathed like humans, but he still needed a supply of fresh air to cool his frame down, lest he wanted to overheat and die.

"Take your pick," the grey con said casually, snapping him back to here and now. Dreadful here and now.

Take your pick.

The implication of the con's words dawned on him, and his spark abandoned his frame.

No, no, no, no, no, it wasn't supposed to be that way…! This didn't happen to ordinary bots; this only happened to... some other nameless bots! Torture, death - yes, but not... this! Primus, was this really happening?! This wasn't supposed to happen to him! Anything but this!

His air circulation grew frantic and shallow, his optics widening, spark hammering madly inside of him. Bumblebee and Blurr were faring no better, darting their glances around the room with trepidation, like little, timid Earth creatures surrounded by predators.

Like prey they were.

Lost as he was in his frightening thoughts, he didn't notice when one con sat right behind him. The agonizing grip on his arms brought him back to reality, prompting a snarl from his engine as he thrashed under the hold.

"Stop fighting me or else," Harness growled straight into his audial, twisting and bending his arms behind his back.

He hissed in discomfort. Bumblebee and Blurr gave him scared stares before shifting their gaze to the two other Decepticons. The large mechs entered the berth, capturing them before they could even attempt to escape. A cacophony of roaring engines, buzzing fans, and furious growls pierced the air. Energon in his circuitry ran cold.

"Hand me the small one," the grey one nonchalantly ordered, holding Blurr by the pede and ignoring the bot's struggling and cursing.

He jerked, growling in a warning. Harness' hold was tight, so tight it didn't matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break free.

"In case you haven't noticed, Grindwar, they're all small," Harness mocked, completely ignoring his struggle.

"Oh, for the love of Primus! The smallest one, the yellow one!" the leader snapped.

"Leave him!" he yelled, glaring at the grey mech, thrashing under the grasp.

The Decepticon cocked his optical ridge, visibly amused.

Harness cackled. "Oh, don't be possessive. My boss wants some time with that cutie, too."

The silver and navy con seized Bumblebee and gave him to Grindwar while taking Blurr for himself as if it were some sort of wicked barter exchange.

"How can you partake in this?" Blurr growled, trying to pry off unwelcome servos and failing. "Why are you doing this?! Did Shockwave send you?!"

"Don't trouble your little helm about it, doll," Grindwar said, placing Bumblebee in his lap.

Despite Bumblebee's loud protests, Grindwar pinned him to his chassis, wrapping a servo around his waist. Prowl revved his engine at the sight, earning himself a painful tug on his arms.

Smirking contemptuously, Grindwar petted Bumblebee's helm. He tried to evade his servo but to no avail.

"Isn't he cute?" Grindwar asked, still stroking Bumblebee. "Too bad I don't have a bow to put on him!"

The Decepticons laughed raucously. Bumblebee seemed to be on the point of crying again. His lower lipplate trembled as he clawed at the unwanted servo around him, his faceplate a picture of despair. And all he could do was watch. His spark ached in helplessness, but Energon in his circuitry kept boiling in a fury.

How could those monsters laugh and be flat-out smug about this all? How could they take pleasure in it? In this callous disregard of another being?

He drilled his optics into Grindwar with the most venomous stare he could muster.

"This one has a different insignia. Why?" asked the con holding Blurr.

Grindwar cackled. "Oh, Swiftsteel, have you been living under a rock? He's from the Elite Guard. That's their brand."

"How dare you speak of them..." Blurr snarled, but no one seemed to care.

"I thought they were all exterminated?"

"Everyone except him."

"Oh!" Swiftsteel exclaimed in realization.

With Bumblebee still in his hold, the leader began to move. Bumblebee gave him a pained, despairing expression as he passed by. He could only return Bumblebee's look until Grindwar took him away behind him, out of sight.

Harness unceremoniously picked him up as if he weighed nothing. Kicking his pedes in the air, he watched long legs stretch out before his assaulter. Harness placed him on his thighs, his servos eventually releasing his arms.

But before he could even take advantage of his free limbs, the Decepticon seized his thighs and wrapped his enormous digits around them completely. He revved his engine, punching and clawing at the unwelcome servos, ignoring his sore arm joints. But Harness didn't pay any attention to his protests as he spread his legs apart, forcing him to straddle his thighs.

Feeling a pit of despair rising in his tanks, he growled, "Leave me alone!"

Harness chuckled, prompting him to shudder despite himself. "Why would I leave alone such a fraggable little thing?"

And with that, the con pulled him closer, until his aft bumped into the large mech.

Sickening heat whipped against his plating, his spark sinking low in its chamber. He tried to pry himself off, tried to get away somehow, but the vice-like grip kept him in place. An angry, helpless growl escaped from both his mouth and the engine.

But Harness didn't care; none of them cared.

The Decepticon planted one of his servos on his backplates before shoving him forward. His faceplate slammed into the legs beneath him as he landed awkwardly on his front.

As the con grasped both of his thighs again, a self-satisfied chuckle split the air. His codpiece had been put on display, as Harness spread his legs wide apart in a full split. His optics only grew, his ventilation shallow and frenzied.

"Small frames are one of the best," Harness stated, sleazily complacent, like Prowl was nothing more but an object to be enjoyed. "You can do about anything with them."

No, no, no flooded his processor as he tried to escape the monster holding him, pushing off with his pedes, and pulling at the mattress.

But it was hopeless, as the iron twin grips around his thighs remained firm and unyielding.

Primus, how could this be happening?! It can't be!

He forced himself to lift his helm to look ahead. The image of Swiftsteel's lustful, lewd grin and Blurr's horrified visage were there in front of him, while Bumblebee's sobs filled the air and he painfully realised there was no turning back. The heinous action was gaining mass and momentum, no matter how much he wanted to stop it.

It was hell.

"Open up," Harness crooned as if on cue, tapping his codpiece, much to his horror. His paint job crawled.

"Frag off," he hissed through the gritted denta. No way would he willingly give himself to that monster.

Harness just hummed, his servos making their way to his thighs. At the very least, he wasn't touching him there.

"You care about your friend, don't you?" What kind of question was that? "How about you open up nice and easy, and my buddy Grindwar over there doesn't tear off your little yellow friend's codpiece?"

His Energon ran cold. Wasn't breaking their frames enough? They had to play with their sparks, too?

"Don't do it, Prowl!" Bumblebee wailed from behind. "He will-" he stopped abruptly, probably not being able to finish the sentence, not being able to say it out loud.

But he understood.

He will do this to me, anyway.

Clenching his jaws, he battled with his thoughts. What am I supposed to do?

As if reading his processor, Harness purred, "As you wish."

A loud, agonizing whimper split the air an instant later, piercing his spark like a sword.

And the next thing he knew, he was yelling, "All right, stop!" Thankfully, Bumblebee's cry came to an end. "I'll o-open, just stop hurting him!" he added more quietly, hating how pathetic he sounded.

And, thus, his fate was sealed. His frame became slack as he stared off into the bedding before his optics. This was truly a point of no return.

"Well?" Harness demanded, groping his aft. His filthy touch prompted his spark to sink deep into his chassis, his tank twisting with revulsion.

He wanted to flee. He needed to flee. But he couldn't even get an inch away.

Feeling his spark shatter into a million pieces, he unfolded his codpiece.

Almost immediately, a wave of sickening heat brushed against his now-exposed intimacy, sending a shudder of loathing through his frame. His spark froze, anticipating the inevitable.

"Isn't everything better when we know our place?" Harness purred, caressing his waist. Prowl tried to flatten himself, only to get away from that burning, horrible touch.

Something warm brushed against his opening, prompting his optics to widen. The will to fight revived in him anew as he thrashed his limbs madly.

"Get away from me!" he yelled, roaring his engine furiously.

But the thing refused to leave, pressing even harder against his valve lips if anything. His struggling must have only aroused the con harder, as Harness groaned, groping his thighs.

Harness pushed him forward a bit, but before he could figure out why, the brute pulled him back in one swift motion.

Overwhelming, white-hot pain flooded his processor all at once, as his dry canal had been stretched past any conceivable limits.

A hiss, both from shock and anguish, escaped him, his helm dipping onto the bedding. He felt so full, he couldn't move. He didn't dare move. Primus, that thing was simply too big. Nothing that huge was supposed to enter him without tearing him apart! Didn't the con see that?!

His frame started to tremble frantically, cooling fans wheezing unevenly as his valve tried to fight back the spike occupying him.

Words of desperate protests followed by pained cries echoed in his processor, mingling with the sensation of his own torture.

Is this really happening...?

He could scarcely think from the agony now before this brute even began actually thrusting. He jolted when a servo lewdly slapped his aft, filling the room with a dull thud. An agonising pain inside of him that had been ever so slowly starting to numb out a little flared anew, prompting him to grit his denta tighter.

"Look at you, why are you suddenly so shy?" the con mocked, readjusting his grasp on his leg, and keeping still inside of him.

The cons broke out laughing all at once.

Grindwar chimed in, "Well, you want to look at this one! Sweetie, don't be so yellow! We're going to have so much fun together!" His sentence was topped with Bumblebee's whimper. He automatically pried his helm off the berth, but he was quickly reminded Bumblebee was somewhere behind him.

Instead, he caught Blurr's petrified gaze. The con's servos were roving across his frame, completely disregarding his palpable resentment, as Blurr tried to slap the unwanted touches away, squirming and revving his engine furiously. And all he could do was watch helplessly, staring at the atrocity unfolding around him. Primus, it was all the three of them could do at the moment, helpless in the embrace of these monsters. Blurr's pitiful expression mirrored his own.

Harness moved. Holding his legs, he used him as a fragtoy, sliding him back and forth on his spike. In an instant, the blunt pain inside him morphed into a burning, throbbing agony. The surrounding sounds blurred until there was nothing but white noise, static crackling in his audials. He swallowed back sobs, threatening to escape his intake, grabbing a handful of material in his servos.

"Primus, you're tight," Harness mumbled between grunts, and he only buried his faceplate deeper into the bedding, despair overwhelming any other thoughts.

It wasn't long until he could feel the mesh lining his canal tear up, Energon bleeding out of him profusely every time that monster slammed him back on his spike.

The bedding underneath him muffled his pained groans, as he could not keep them from escaping any longer.

What have we done to deserve this!?

His valve stung with what felt like thousands of tears and cuts. Every movement of the spike sent his scrapped raw canal on torturous fire. He found himself praying for the con to overload, anything to end the agony.

He barely stopped himself from screaming when Harness stabbed him deep inside, his spike hitting unyieldingly into the entrance of his gestation chamber.

His ventilation became even more frantic, fumblingly attempting to cool down his overheating, distressed frame. As he choked on his sobs, he realised how barely he was holding himself back from a straight-up bawling. His valve burned like a big, Energon-oozing wound. Agonised whimpers and screams were filling the air, standing in stark contrast to the pleasured, nauseating groans, prompting his spark to clench even more.

And then, Harness' moves became erratic, his digits digging painfully into his plating, all that giving voice to how close to an overload he was.

Primus, please end it already.

The con impaled him one more time, driving deep into the abused canal, the tip of his spike ramming into his chamber entrance. Groaning in anguish, he writhed on the legs beneath him, dark spots filling his vision. An explosion of warmth blew out inside him, but too dizzy with torture, he didn't care anymore.

Miraculously, thankfully, mercifully, Harness removed his cruel length. His frame went slack, sprawled like a used fragdoll on the con's legs. Without a spike plugging him, transfluid and Energon flooded out of him freely.

But, as if he hadn't been just abused enough, Harness all but kicked him off his legs, before he unceremoniously pushed him off the berth.

With a loud clang, he landed on his front, tidal waves of pervasive pain washing over his frame. As if he was just impaled on a sword, tearing at his insides... Nauseating warmth pooled between his legs, as all sorts of fluids with fragments of his torn-out mesh spilled out on the floor. He barely managed to pry his helm off the ground when twin thuds rang in his audials, his frame nothing short of rattling on the floor.

"Clean me," was a quick order, prompting his spark to sink, his tank twisting with disgust.

No, no, no, no...

He had just been raped, wasn't that enough?!

He only growled, both from the engine and the vocaliser, his faceplate soaking in the coldness of the floor. Whimpers and cries echoed in the room. This was madness.

His protests wouldn't matter anyway, would they?

"Oh, my little Autobot toy is exhausted? I will make it easier for you then," Harness mocked.

And the next thing he knew, he found himself being yanked back onto the mattress. He curled into a ball, trembling all over, excruciating pain spreading through his frame as he covered his faceplate with his servos.

Please let it be just a bad dream.

But it wasn't, he was sharply reminded when the con forced him onto his backplates.

Sure enough, Harness uncovered his faceplate and straddled him, pinning his arms to his sides. Energon in his circuitry froze, engine stalling, at the sight unfolding before his terrified optics.

Harness' spike, that cruel thing covered mostly in his Energon, was just in front of his faceplate, nothing but cementing what was about to happen.

His optics widened, his frame wriggling and jerking under the con as his helm tried to get as far away from the spike as he could.

"Where do you think you're going, huh?" Harness asked as he grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at him.

The filthy length rubbed at his faceplate. He revved his engine in powerless fury, his frame shuddering in utter disgust. Harness planted his free servo on his forehelm, long digits curling around his helm.

The spike began nudging eagerly at his lipplates. His tank twisted as he felt the mix of his Energon and that monster's transfluid smearing at him.

Please, someone, make it stop.

He tried to wriggle away from the dreadful thing, but strong servos kept his helm locked in place. Pressure on his chin grew, forcing his lipplates apart. No matter how hard he wanted to close his mouth, it was only being opened wider.

His spark pounded madly in its chamber. Seeing that large, awful thing so dangerously close to his mouth made it difficult to think straight.

Harness chuckled. "That's exactly what you're made for, Autobot."

Even with his immobilised helm, he made a valiant effort to shake it in denial.

His engine stalled when Harness pushed the tip past his lipplates. The taste of Energon mixed with transfluid attacked his nodes instantly. Before he could even react, the cruel thing all but smashed into the back of his intake in one swift motion, almost dislocating his jaw joints on the way.

He gagged at the invasion, his optics growing as his intake clamped frantically around the too-big spike.

He couldn't even use his servos to push himself away, couldn't even bite down on the dreadful thing.

The con began to frag his mouth, pushing drool mixed with other fluids out of him on each way out. He could scarcely think, panic rising in his processor, wanting nothing more but for that to stop. To just die and wake up somewhere else – anything else – to escape this suffering, this invasive feeling.

"Look at you, little slut." Harness' voice couldn't sound less satisfied, less amused at that moment. "You hate this, don't you?"

For the first time, he locked his optics with his rapist. He sent him a black, cold, and the most murderous glare he could muster, before he looked away from the red, devoid of any empathy optics. Harness only chuckled at the display.

But, unsurprisingly, it wasn't his wounded pride that hurt the most. His overstretched lipplates burned around the girth, his jaw joints were sore, and his intake... So abraded and abused by something too big to be ever there in the first place. Every thrust brought more maddening agony than the last. At least his ruined valve was left alone.

And when he thought it couldn't get any worse, Harness sank deeper into his abused mouth. His spike found its way past the back of his intake, sliding even lower, where nothing so invading was supposed to be. Panic exploded in his processor. He gagged hard, his tank churning in rebellion. But the monster raping him only took this as an invitation to put his hips in motion once again. He had a hard time keeping the contents of his tank down, as this alien, torturous sensation deep inside him was driving him insane.

His frame started to tremble, his tank revolting more and more against its owner, but the con just continued ramming into him, grunting in pleasure.

Then, a particularly anguished whimper from Bumblebee (or was it Blurr's? He couldn't tell anymore) pierced the air, prompting his tank to clench. His insides burned as his tank desperately emptied itself, expelling its contents in waves.

Miraculously, the spike left his abraded intake, but only to be replaced by copious amounts of unprocessed Energon along with other foul fluids. He coughed and vomited up the disgusting concoction. Harness, however, never let go of his helmet, depriving him of even such mercy as turning his helm to the side so he wouldn't have to throw up all over himself.

"I was really expecting a better performance from an interface drone like yourself. Pathetic." Harness laughed with a sneer.

The pain, the humiliation, the sounds of suffering around him—it was too much. Something inside him snapped.

Hot burning coolant stung his optics, blurring his vision in no time. Soon, he was sobbing uncontrollably, not caring about how weak he must sound, as his frame trembled frantically.

His spark was broken.

And the con, that sick monster, was standing above him and... getting off to his suffering. To his misery and pain.

His sobbing only grew harder, coolant tracing paths in the foul mixture caking his faceplate.

Harness chuckled in satisfaction.

He offlined his optics. When will it all end?!

A deep grunt filled the room, and something warm splattered across his faceplate. His aching spark sank even lower into his chassis.

The disgusting thing touched his faceplate once more, sending a shiver through his frame as it smeared fresh transfluid with the rest of the fluids.

"I love that utter despair on your faceplate, slut," Harness murmured, but his words seemed hazy, as if they were coming from a great distance away.

Finally, the con got off of him, releasing his arms. He lacked the strength to wipe the awful mixture off his faceplate or to care about anything else, for that matter. His optics only welled up with fresh coolant.

"Oh, what is it? More tears already? Hmm, yes, cry for me, Autobot. Cry."

He didn't even move. He didn't want to move, didn't want to spread more pain through his hurting frame. His limbs felt heavy. His systems screamed for Energon. Falling into a stasis lock was all but imminent and approaching fast.

"That will suffice," one of the Decepticons said.

Once again, the world reminded him how weak, helpless, and powerless he was against the Decepticons.

His optics stayed offline, as he was praying to fall into a stasis lock.

Soon, his wish was granted.