Even though I'm part of this Autobot family, there are still many 'bots I haven't met properly or rarely get to see. Optimus and Prowl are two examples. Today, I've made it my mission to spend the day with Grandsire. Opi found my determination amusing, saying my missions for the next year might just involve bonding with everyone more. Deep down, I know there may come a day when I won't get to see some of them again.

This morning, before I could set off on my little adventure to find Grandsire, Opi insisted on giving me a checkup. He's been keeping a close eye on how quickly I'm growing, guessing it might have something to do with me having once been human. During the checkup, I also discovered I'd been very wrong about Bumblebee's age. Despite looking like a youngling around five years old and only being a bit taller than me, he's actually just a naturally short bot.

When we first met, Bumblebee looked about three, then five when he transitioned to his youngling frame. However, he's actually the equivalent of a 10-year-old human. Cybertronians reach their youngling frame around their 'teen' years, or the age of 10, meaning Bee was about seven when we first met. Now, he barely reached Ironhide's hip—about as tall as Optimus' knee.

As for Bluestreak, I've only had brief encounters with him so far, but he's a little older than Bee, now the equivalent of 12. Already in his youngling frame and training to be a sniper, his aim is remarkably precise for someone his age.

Returning to the present, I decided to toddle off toward Grandsire's office after getting Opi's approval. Lately, he's been incredibly busy dealing with Decepticon-related matters. Even though they've been unusually quiet, the tension around the base is palpable. Everyone is on edge, bracing for whatever might come next. The Autobots have been busy prepping escape pods and a few other ships in our fleet, preparing for the worst—Cybertron's demise and the possibility of having to leave our homeworld behind.

Several bots passed me in the halls, offering smiles, waves, and the occasional chuckle. Out of the corner of my optic, I caught a glimpse of red and yellow disappearing around a corner—it seems my brothers are keeping an eye on me, even though I'm simply on my way to visit Grandsire.

As I toddled closer to Grandsire's office, the doors slid open with a soft hiss. Inside, I found him seated at his desk, surrounded by glowing datapads and holographic projections of Cybertron. His massive frame looked slightly hunched as he focused intently on his work, his optics dim with concentration. Even so, the faintest trace of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he noticed me entering.

"Ah, little one," Optimus greeted warmly, his voice deep and soothing. "What brings you here today?"

I waddled up to his chair, placing my tiny hands on the edge of his desk. "You've been working all day, Grandsire," I said, looking up at him. "I'm here to make sure you take a break!"

Optimus chuckled softly, the sound reverberating through the room. "A noble mission," he replied, setting down the datapad in his hand. "Though the matters of Cybertron's survival are pressing, I am unsure if taking a small break is smart. I suppose even a Prime needs a moment of respite, just for you."

With that, he stood and scooped me up into his arms, holding me securely against his broad chest. "What shall we do, then?" he asked, tilting his head with a playful glint in his optics.

"Fun stuff!" I declared, giggling as I reached for his faceplate.

Optimus raised a brow ridge in amusement. "Fun stuff, hmm? Then perhaps you'll need to guide me, little one. I'm afraid I haven't had much time for fun recently."

"I can help!" I insisted, pointing toward the door. "Let's go explore!"

Optimus humoured me with a nod, holding my hand and walking with me out of the office. As we wandered the halls of the base, he paused occasionally to humour my curiosity. We stopped to inspect a glowing console here or a strange tool there, with Grandsire patiently explaining their functions in a way I could understand.

Eventually, we made our way to the hanger that housed all our ships hidden under the Great Dome. There was barriers surrounding the walkway. Optimus placed me down gently on a bench that overlooked the hanger as he sat beside me.

"This is where I come to think," he said, his tone soft.

I looked up at him, feeling the weight of his words. "What do you think about?" I asked.

He hesitated for a moment, then smiled faintly. "I think about our future. About Cybertron. About the war. And about sparklings like you."

I lowered my gaze, a quiet sadness settling over me, though I was already aware of the reality of Cybertron. I knew how the war began, the devastation it had wrought on our world and its people, and the complex history between Orion Pax and D-16.

As I turned my eyes to the stars visible through the dome's high window, fragments of memories—ones Opi had never erased—flickered through my mind.

I know what I must do. With my knowledge of what's to come once we reach Earth, I have to do everything in my power to protect my family and help end this war. I can't let it continue. I'll ask Opi to restore any memories related to our future—everything from the live-action events to G1 and Prime. I need it all.

My Opi sent feelings of inquisitiveness down the bond, he could sense my determination and I was, I have the chance to change everything, and I need to start preparing now. I'm already growing quickly, and every moment counts.

Grandsire gently nudged me through the bond, pulling me out of my thoughts. I looked up at him, standing confidently on the bench. "I want to help!" I declared, my voice filled with unwavering determination. "You're all fighting for our planet, and I want to be an official Autobot too!"

Optimus looked credulous, mouth agape and unsure how to respond. "But..but you're a sparkling. Live your childhood and let us fight for you."

"I'm sorry, but I can't allow that. I can change the future for good! I just need to learn how to fight like you." I strike the air with a fist and take a punch pose from martial arts.

Grandsire's optics softened as he knelt to meet my gaze, a mixture of pride and concern flickering across his faceplate. He rested a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Your spirit is strong, little one," he murmured, his voice tinged with both admiration and worry. "But the burden of war is heavy. Too heavy for someone so young."

I straightened my back, refusing to back down. "I've seen what happens if nothing changes," I insisted, my tone unwavering. "I know I can help. You taught me that every spark matters, and mine is ready to make a difference."

Optimus' expression looked conflicted. "You're still growing," he said, his voice softer now. "Training takes time, and war... war takes much more than skill."

I clenched my fists, determination blazing in my optics. "Then I'll train harder than anyone else. Learn faster. I'm not just any sparkling, you know. I've been blessed by Primus. I know things that can save us. Protect you." My voice trembled, but I held my ground. "I won't just stand by."

A heavy silence settled between us. Grandsire looked deeply into my optics, searching for something—perhaps doubt, fear—but finding none. Finally, he sighed, the weight of countless cycles etched into his frame. "If this is truly your path, then we will guide you," he said at last, his voice filled with resolve. "But you must promise me one thing."

I nodded eagerly. "Anything."

"Promise me you will not lose yourself," he continued. "The battle ahead is not just fought on the field, but within. Your spark is precious, and I won't see it dimmed by the shadows of war."

"I promise," I whispered, feeling the gravity of his words settle in my core.

Grandsire placed a firm hand on my helm. "Then let's begin. Tomorrow, your lessons will start." His optics softened, and for a moment, I saw not a leader or a warrior, but a protector, a grandsire who only wanted to keep his family safe.

Optimus's optics flickered with a blend of determination and quiet concern as he stood up, his hand lingering on my helm for just a moment longer. I could feel the weight of his thoughts, the quiet hum of his processor working through the complexities of what had just been agreed upon.

He sighed softly, his gaze drifting toward the window where Cybertron's dimming light cast long shadows across the room. The idea of starting my training wasn't just a promise—it was a decision that could change everything. Yet, it wasn't without its risks. His thoughts turned to Ratchet, the mech who had become her Opiluck, my healer, and the one who had protected me through each step of my rebirth. Ratchet would need to know, but how would he react?

'He's already seen so much loss', Optimus thought. 'He will try to protect her even more.'

Optimus already knew that his grandsparkling was blessed by Primus, she had glowing pale silver optics and the mark of a Prime behind her right audial fin. But learning that she 'knows things' has him reeling with questions. What did she remember, and more importantly, how did she remember?

'Could it really be Primus guiding her?' he wondered. It wasn't unheard of for the divine to touch a spark, to guide it. Many believed that leaders and warriors were chosen in such ways. But this... this was different. It felt like a piece of Cybertron's future had been placed in my hands, fragile and waiting to be shaped.

'Does Ratchet know? I need to talk to him.' Optimus decided. There was a chance the medic would resist, insisting that she was too young, too vulnerable to carry the weight of our future on her shoulders. That she was just a sparkling. But deep down, Optimus knew that Ratchet already knew everything and was dreading the moment when this sparkling would become the next Prime - a spark that wasn't meant to stay sheltered forever.

He looked back down at me, still so small but already carrying the weight of a world on my shoulders. My optics shone with determination, mirroring the same fire that had once burned in Orion Pax, long before the war.

As Grandsire turned, preparing to face Ratchet and the uncertainty that lay ahead, I couldn't help but feel that this was more than just the beginning of training. It was the beginning of a mission. A destiny I was ready to embrace.