"I can't believe we just left her behind," Thad groaned as he and Lizzy made their way down the desolate streets of Kalis. He spoke with raw disbelief, as he struggled to keep his grip on the unconscious Doll resting along his back. "We should go back. At least so she's not alone with that guy."

"And do what?" Lizzy asked, while arching a brow. She glanced over her shoulder as they turned a corner to scan the path behind themselves—there was no sign of Uzi or the so-called Angel, meaning that the three of them were alone. "We aren't exactly armed. And let's be real, that freak wasn't wrong. If he wanted us dead, we'd already be scraplet food."

She held out an arm, halting Thad in his tracks. "Besides, we needed some distance from him. At least to..." Her voice trailed off as her gaze wandered to Doll.

Following her line of sight, Thad gave a frown. "I get that you're worried about her. I am too. But you know she's gonna lose it when she finds out we left Uzi behind. Especially with an angel."

"...Yeah, she will." Lizzy sighed, her eyes dropping to the snow-covered ground as if searching for something. "But she's also our best chance at making sure Uzi comes back alive if we need to fight that thing."

Thad blinked as a low "huh" leaves his mouth. But Lizzy ignored him, as she continued to look toward the ground. "I need a knife. Or something sharp. Just enough to draw blood. A rock with an edge, a shard of glass—anything. One of us needs to cut ourselves—"

"Shocking what?" Thad's vocal components shot up an octave as his confusion turned to alarm. He quickly stepped in front of Lizzy, forcing her to stop short in her random search, her head bumping into his chest.

"Hey—"

"No. No. You need to start making sense right now. The last thing we need is more injuries! We're barely standing as it is, and now you want to make one of us bleed?" Thad hoisted Doll higher on his back, wincing as pain flared through his frame. "Lizzy, don't tell me you're suffering a malfunction, because I really need both of us working right now. Especially if you're talking about hurting yourself—"

A loud groan leaves the mean girl as she dragged her hands down her visor in frustration. "Uggggh—I'm not trying to off-line myself, you handsome idiot! It's for Doll!" she snapped. "She needs energon-blood."

"Oh, only that." Thad allowed a rare moment of sarcasm to slip through his words. "And the best way for us to do that is to slit our wrists and squirt some into her mouth—" His tone shifted, his own frustration began cutting through. "What did I just say about making sense? Yes, she lost a lot of blood, but that's why we need to get her to a CR chamber. It'll repair her—especially since we still have the energon chip."

"No, but we don't actually need the CR chamber if we just—" Lizzy stopped herself. She then tightly closed her optics and took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, something about the way she spoke was different. "Okay. I'm gonna tell you something. Promise me you won't freak out."

Thad looked almost insulted by the request. "Really, after all we just went through you still think I am able to freak out about anything? Look, we're way past any point where I would be even surprised by—"

"Doll's a Point One Percent Outlier."

Silence followed for several seconds as Thad's optics widened to their max setting. For a terrifying moment, he actually wobbled and was close to tipping over as if he were about to faint. Thankfully, for Doll's sake, he managed to catch himself in time. He then straightened back to standing upright and said, "Sorry, I zoned out for a second ther—Whaaaaaat?"

Lizzy flinched at the sheer volume of his voice as it had echoed throughout the empty street. "Doll isn't like us—or really any other drone, as far as we know," she spoke quickly, while still choosing her words carefully. "She's… different. A Point One Percenter and an Outlier. Or at least, we think she is. We're not entirely sure, but it's the best explanation we've got." The words tumbled from her mouth with little cohesion, but the truth was finally coming out and that is all that she cared about. "Those red flashes, that weird thing that keeps happening around us—that's her. It's always been her."

Thad opened and closed his mouth, looking utterly lost. His mind scrambled through memories—the flashes of red light, the unexplainable moments that had saved them. Whether it be the theater, or in the dropship. He realized now that during every one of those moments, he'd never actually been looking directly at Doll.

"Why would you—how long have you—" He shook his head, struggling to process everything. "Oh, this is just Prime."

He looked to Lizzy, who only gave a helpless shrug. "Sorry," she said, and to Thad's complete shock, there was an actual sincerity in her voice. "Like, seriously, I'm sorry." It only made it more baffling for him, as Lizzy never apologies like that.

"Why didn't either of you tell me?" He demanded, his volume rising again. "Lizzy, for Vector Sigma's sake, we're planning to get married after graduation—to each other and to Doll! Don't you think it's kind of important for me to know that one of the girls I love is a Point One Percenter and an Outlier? Which—by the way—I didn't even know was possible for someone to be both."

"I wanted to tell you!" Lizzy insisted, pressing a hand over her spark chamber as a plea. "But this is Doll's thing. I only found out a few days ago, and trust me, I ripped into her for hiding it. I wanted to tell you about it but she had a full weird creepy Baba Yaga moment when I caught her eating—" She stopped abruptly, her eyes darting away as she realized what she almost revealed.

Thad's optics narrowed as he easily noticed such a pause. "Eating what?" He could see the sheer worry in Lizzy's optics as she held a hand over her mouth. Whatever it was, it must have been bad. Something really bad. But this was Doll. Their Doll. What could she possibly do to…

"Lizzy, what did you catch her eating?" He asked the question again with a bit more urgency in his tone. He watched as his first Conjunx Endura was reluctant to even say another word.

She was running a hand down her visor again, though this time it seemed as if she was trying to steady herself. "When Doll's parents died, it messed her up."

"...Of course it did! She watched it happen, it would mess anyone up."

"No, Thad." Lizzy made sure to stress her words much more than before. "It really messed her up. It got her to do things I think. Things she didn't want us to find out." Something in her tone sent a slow, creeping dread curling into his spark. "That dream she keeps having, I think it is because of that."

Thad found himself glancing over his shoulder, his optics drawn to Doll's unmoving face. Without a visor to project anything, he could see her powerless optics staring back at him. "Her nightmares? You mean the ones about that evil moon with horns, right?"

She had mentioned them before, but only in the aftermath of waking in the dead of night, screaming, haunted by something unspeakable. And no matter how much he or Lizzy pressed, she never offered more than fragments, half-truths forced through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, that thing." Lizzy shook her head, as she ran a hand along Doll's back. "She told me that it had a name. I'm sure what, but I think it was… Unicorn?"

Thad blinked at that name. "I don't think the nightmares that Doll has been having for years are about a magical pony with a horn."

"I don't know, maybe they are," Lizzy groaned, in frustration. "I could be remembering it wrong. She said it like a bunch of times while throwing a fit. I was just trying to calm her down, and I didn't exactly have the state of mind to pay attention to every syllable of every word she was screaming at the top of her vocal processor!" She stopped to rub at her temple. "Primus, I wish she was awake because I don't know how to explain this scrap properly."

Thad's frown deepened. It was bad enough knowing Doll had hidden this from him. But now? Now it felt like something worse was being kept from him and Lizzy also. He swallowed as he realized that he had to get a handle of the situation. "Lizzy… whatever it is, we can figure it out together. Let's rewind a bit to the energon-blood—"

A sudden clank of metal against frozen ground cut him off. The sound was heavy, and far too close. Thad noticed Lizzy stiffen, her optics locked onto something behind him.

"Oh, slag." When he turned around, he expected to see the Angel they had just left behind—or maybe even another Autobot. Considering the usual luck he and the others had since coming to the surface, Thad expected the worst…

Instead, he found something slightly better.

"Bonesmasher?" For a fleeting moment, relief replaced the tension in his frame. A Decepticon. One he thought had abandoned them. "Dude, what the hell?" Thad sighed, while forcing out an awkward chuckle. "You can't just jump out at people like that. Seriously, you almost made me blue-screen just now."

He glanced at Lizzy, thinking that she would be relieved. She wasn't. She was still rigid and her optics were locked onto Bonesmasher with sharp, unwavering caution—she had noticed something he hadn't. Bonesmasher's mining fork, a part of his vehicle mode that was attached to his back, was twisting and aligning itself into an attack position, with it aimed towards them.

Thad instinctively took a step backwards. Lizzy followed, as she kept a protective hand on Doll. Because they both realized that they weren't saved, they were actually still in danger.

"You kinda bailed on us, man," Thad was buying time, forcing himself to stay as optimistically friendly as possible. "Any reason for that?" He smiled—at least he tried to, but it faltered when he finally registered the look in Bonesmasher's deep red optics.

A look of pure, unfiltered hatred.

Thad had no problem admitting that he could be an idiot sometimes. He was a jock, it was in his nature to be a bit of a 'metal-head'. But that didn't mean he was completely clueless at all times. He was actually quite good at reading people. And Bonesmasher was an open book to him—one that had big bold text on each page that said, [I WANT TO KILL YOU] in plain Cybertronian.

"Do you remember what I said to you, boy?" The Con asked while tilting his head slightly, his voice as deep and gravelly as it had been on the dropship. The sound alone sent a chill down Thad's spinal strut.

"Yeah, I remember." Thad adjusted his grip on Doll, once more. His processor was racing—he needed a plan. But his body had other ideas. The sharp pains in his frame were getting harder to ignore. He knew that if he tried to run, he would most likely just trip over himself. Sheer stubbornness was the only thing keeping him upright for now.

Well… that, and a healthy dose of fear.

Bonesmasher then took a step forward toward the teens, his armored foot crunching into the snow as his towering frame casted a long, dark shadow over them. Thad kept himself talking as he and Lizzy took another step back in response. "I mean, you talked about ripping my spark out through my backside, super gross by the way. Terrifying, actually, so of course I ain't gonna forget. But, uh… no need to actually do that, right? I mean, we're all Decepticons here."

Bonesmasher's mining fork whirring to life as its joints flexed like the jaws of a predator—ready to take a bite out of its prey. "Tell me…" His voice dropped into something even darker, as his optics burned with malice. "How do you want to die, Autobot spy?"

For a split second, Thad was ready to argue. To shout that they weren't spies—that this was all some kind of misunderstanding. But before he could even open his mouth, Lizzy stepped in front of him.

"Oh dang," she drawled, her voice laced with exaggerated annoyance. "Looks like the jig is up." Both Thad and Bonesmasher froze, as Lizzy held her hands in surrender. "You got us, big guy." She almost sounded bored as she spoke. "We're spies for the Autobots."

"...What?" Thad didn't even realize he'd said the word out loud. He was just left completely sideswiped by the obvious lie that she just admitted to. But before he could say anything else, Lizzy turned her head—just enough for him to see bright pink text flash across her visor.

Text that said:

[Get ready to transform! NOW!]

There was barely any time to read them before the words disappeared and were replaced with her eyes as she spun back to face Bonesmasher; her entire demeanor shifting into something more… smug, more like her usual self.

"Thad, come on." Lizzy made a show of it. She gave a long dramatic sigh, and waved her hand dismissively toward the tall Decepticon warrior. "No need to make it embarrassing. We got caught. It looks like the 'Cons are actually way smarter than we thought."

As insane as it seemed, Thad knew exactly what she was doing.

She was stalling—giving him time that he desperately needed to force his T-cog to cooperate. He could feel it struggling, trying to purr to life. It was sluggish. Unresponsive. He could feel his whole frame go tense as he had to actually force some of his planting to begin the process.

While Lizzy did what she did best and ran her mouth. "First off, Congratulations. You figured us out," she said, her voice dripping with fake admiration. "I mean, wow. We really thought we had you guys fooled. I mean," She paused, as if to be as dramatic as possible. "I thought Grindor would have found us out, maybe even Negatron, but you?"

Thad swore he felt the temperature drop, as Lizzy began to click her tongue in disappointment. "Between the murder claw, the intimidation tactics, and the totally terrifying threats, I just assumed you were just the muscle of the group. Big and strong, sure, but also a giant freaking idiot. But hey—even the slowest of processors can still run a program."

Bonesmasher already looked like he wanted to absolutely murder them. And yet somehow, Lizzy found a way to heighten that look of utter rage even further, as the older drone actually bared his teeth at the teens—his optics burning with such seething fury that Thad almost expected them to act like blasters.

"You think mockery will save you, you little glitch?" The arm of his mining fork had pulled back, it was readying itself to strike down at the girl with full force...

And yet, Lizzy didn't even flinch.

"Nope," she admitted. "But they will—or did you forget that there are three Angels of Death that live in Kalis?" She pointed past Bonesmasher with all the smug conviction of someone who had already won a battle before it had even started.

Bonesmasher reacted on instinct. He whipped his entire body toward where she was pointing, his mining fork shifting, posing for an attack as he roared for a fight—one that will never come as Lizzy pointed at nothing but air.

It was the oldest trick in the book, but it still worked. In that split second of distraction, the purr of Thad's T-cog is heard, followed swiftly by the screech of his tires, as he leapt through the frozen air—his battered frame locking into his vehicle mode. When Bonesmasher realized what had happened, by the time he turned back around with a furious snarl, all he saw was a heavily beaten-up pickup truck peeling down the icy road, kicking up slush and debris in its wake as it was already gaining distance from him.

Lizzy, perched in the truck's bed, grinned wickedly at the older Decepticon. "Sayonara, slag-head!" She called out while throwing both hands up in a double-fingered salute, barely being able to brace herself as Thad gunned the engine.

It was a moment of victory that was short-lived.

A furious roar—not of an engine, but of rage—cleaved through the air as Bonesmasher's massive frame shifted and collapsed into itself, twisting into a large armored form with terrifying efficiency. Within nano-clicks, the deep rumble of a powerful engine followed, and a heavily armored military truck came barreling after the teens.

Lizzy's grin disappeared in an instant.

"Fuuuuuuuuu—" She dropped herself low, shielding Doll's unconscious form as the truck rocked beneath her. "Of course, he has a vehicle mode! How the hell did I forget that? Thad, floor it!"

"He's a Buffalo! A mine-protected vehicle! He's not exactly built for speed!" Thad's voice crackled around her, his frustration and panic bleeding into his words. The reason why became clear as he jerked violently in a sharp turn. "Especially with all this crap on the road! For Vector Sigma's sake, did no one think to clear the streets in the millions of years this war's been going on?"

Lizzy just threw her head back and groaned. She realized quickly that while they were in a slightly better position then they were before it wasn't exactly that much better. As she clutched onto Doll's limp frame, her mind raced. They needed a plan or some kind of idea if they were gonna survive this. She didn't even want to think about how hard it was for Thad to even move in his alt. mode. Now he was being expected to out race someone.

"What the hell was he even going on about, calling us spies?!" Thad barked.

Lizzy barely spared him a glance as she was trying to focus. "What do you think? He probably saw us talking to the Angel. We were allowed to walk away—of course he thinks we're spies!"

"Is it at all possible we can talk him down?"

Before Lizzy could answer, the truck lurched violently as something exploded behind them. Lizzy's eyes widened as she saw the massive shape of Bonesmasher vehicle mode plowing straight through a crumbling building—ignoring roads entirely to cut across their path.

He was gaining on them.

"Nevermind!" Thad yelped. "He's not the listening type! What do we do? Do we keep heading for the colony?"

"We'll never make it." Lizzy's tone turned grim as she watched the armored truck bulldoze through another wreckage, his mining fork hurling ruined vehicles aside like they weighed nothing to him. "You're barely holding together, and he's closing in fast."

"So—what? What's the play?"

Lizzy sucked in a hurried breath, an idea came to her. But it wasn't exactly the best. Not like they had that many options though. "Circle around. Turn back."

"That's the opposite of what we should be doing—"

"We need to turn back, Thad!" Lizzy snapped, as she slapped a hand onto the edge of his truck bed. "Head for Uzi and the Angel! That freak wasn't in the mood to kill us before—maybe we'll get lucky and he'll want to kill these guys instead!"

"Guys?"

"Grindor and Negatron are probably still skulking around somewhere—oh scrap, what if they—" Before she could finish, Thad jerked hard, sending her slamming against the side of his inner bed. "—shocking, OW!"

"Sorry!" Thad yelped, struggling to keep control as they swerved. Lizzy's spark pulse pounded in her head as she pressed a hand against the sore spot. Behind them, Bonesmasher's horn blared like an executioner's call, his massive frame was crushing and flattening anything in his path as he was still gaining on them.

She gritted her teeth, as she wrapped her arms tighter around Doll's still-unmoving body. "Just drive, Thad…" she muttered, fear and worry creeping into her voice. She didn't say it out loud, but they both knew the truth. Bonesmasher was gonna be on them soon.

If they couldn't get to Uzi and that Autobot in time—no.

They had much better things to do tonight than die!

"So, we were supposed to land on that rooftop?" Uzi asked as she and N sat together on the roof of a ruined car, using it as a makeshift bench. Ahead of them was a large structure, it was shorter than the surrounding skyscrapers but far wider. Enough to make a decent platform in the case of an emergency landing, as N had explained.

"But then something 'weird' happened?"

She watched the Autobot as he sighed and stared shamefully at the ground.

"Yeah," he seemed unsure about it even as he spoke. "I mean, I've shot down a lot of Decepticon dropships before. Like hundreds of them. I know exactly where to hit for a controlled descent, and that's what I did. The ship was on course for this spot." He lifted a hand up and gestured toward the building in front of them to make his point. "But then there was a light."

The fingers of his raised hand curled slightly, as if he was trying to grasp at something unseen. "I don't know how to explain it. But there was just a flash of red light and the ship didn't veer. It didn't even turn. It just—snapped. It changed direction in an instant. I swear, I was staring right at it as it happen."

He tried to mimic the unnatural movement with his hand, slowly tilting it downward in an arc before jerking it sharply to the right—toward the crash site that they were still several meters from.

"I know it sounds crazy, I seriously can't make heads or tails of it myself but—"

"It's fine," Uzi spoke up as she pulled his arm down. "I believe you."

N felt some of the tension in his shoulders leave. "Really? That's a relief. That whole thing seriously weirded me out. I mean—" He stopped as Uzi held up a hand and tried to be dismissive about the whole thing.

"Not the first time I've dealt with that stupid red flash. It's mostly been helpful for us, but… I don't like it. The whole thing just rubs me the wrong way."

N hummed in agreement as he felt the same unease she did. If he were to be honest, what unsettled him the most wasn't just the light itself or its weird physics defying action—He's seen many things during the war that were just as bizarre, if not even more so than a strange 'magic light show'—no. What truly got to him about the light was the uncanny familiarity he felt toward it. Not in how it looked, but rather in how it… felt? He saw something like it before, felt the way it changed the air itself, how it stung his optics. But where—

Before he could chase the thought any further, Uzi spoke again.

"I mean, I thought it was just some surface thing." She rested her head against her knuckles, her optics lowering in thought. "But if you find it weird too, then at least I know it's something going on."

N found himself watching her. The way she furrowed her brows, the subtle shift of her eyes—he could practically see the literal gears turning in her mind. It was… oddly fascinating. He waited for her to draw up some conclusion, or make some kind of guess, as he didn't want to break her concentration. He didn't even realize he was staring until she looked back at him, and their gaze met.

…he gave her his best friendly wave.

Somehow that caused a blush to flicker across her visor. "You know what? Never mind!" Uzi said as she quickly straightened up her posture and waved a hand as if to brush the whole topic away. "Whatever it is, I am sure one of us will figure it out eventually. Last time it happened that darn thing didn't decide to help Doll so I am kind of pissed off at it anyways. Moving on!"

Silence settled between them, allowing Uzi to regain her composure though it also allowed her to notice the mood change as N took a deep breath. The mention of Doll had cracked something open in him—his guilt was as easy to read as a book for sparklings.

Uzi had already accepted his apology. Twice. And yet, from the way he looked, it was clear he was about to go for a third. It would've been annoying if it wasn't also kind of sad. "Again, I am so sorry your friend—your Conjunx, I mean—was hurt."

"You already said you were sorry, Autobot, and I already forgave you," she muttered in the first response before raising her voice with the second. "But for the record, Doll is Thad and Lizzy's Conjunx Endura. Not mine. Far, far from it. She's actually my cousin. You know, family."

She watched as N winched slightly. "Oh. So, instead of hurting someone you loved romantically, I hurt someone you loved familially." He paused, as he scratched at his cheek in thought. "Is that better or worse?"

A quiet chuckle slipped out of Uzi before she could stop it. "I guess it's relative." The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted it. Because as she said it, N's face lit up with the kind of smile that made her internal systems heat up slightly.

"Pun intended?" He asked in an almost playful manner.

The second the two words left N's mouth, Uzi turned away from him as if physically repelled by his humor. "Ugggggh, I hate you. I absolutely hate you." She turned around, showing him her back like an irritated child and N wasn't able to hold back a laugh as he watched her.

He forced himself to settle, to bring things back to something serious. But even so… this? Just talking to her? It felt good. Even if she wore Decepticon symbols, there was something different about Uzi. Something he couldn't quite place. But whatever it was, it was as if he was finally doing something right. Something he should have done a long time ago.

"I really hope that's not true, because I still have my message to give."

N tried not to smile too much as Uzi begrudgingly turned back to face him, her arms tightly crossed over her chest as she was pouting—actually pouting at when were Decepticons allowed to be cute?

"Alright. The message." Uzi said as she leaned in slightly, her voice changing to be more firm. "This better be good. Because if you're just gonna tell me 'Decepticons are bad' or some other garbage—I don't care what you are, I'm kicking your tailpipe."

N caught himself before he could ask if she could even reach that part of him. Diplomacy wasn't exactly his specialty, but he knew enough to avoid certain… sensitive topics. He'd learned that the hard way after once offering to help Cliffjumper reach a high shelf. That was the day he discovered just how hard short bots could punch.

"The Decepticons are not garbage," he said, matching Uzi's serious tone. "So you don't have to worry about that." He assured her, before hesitating for a moment. He knew what he needed to say, what mattered was how he said it. "But this message is important. It's from Optimus Prime himself. He said that he is coming back to Cybertron."

When the name left his mouth Uzi's expression shifted. Gone was any amount of goodwill she had, as her purple optics darkened like a storm cloud rolling in and her posture stiffening like a coil about to snap.

"The last false prophet," she muttered, venom lacing her voice.

N instinctively tensed. "Don't call him that."

He surprised himself with how strict he sounded. There was no anger in how he said the word, just something solid, something unwavering. He didn't even realize he had that in him. But it was for Optimus's sake, after all.

He knew the Decepticons had their reasons to despise the Prime, but couldn't they at least respect him? He was Optimus, for crying out loud. The Optimus Prime.

Though, N never really understood why Decepticons threw around that 'false prophet' term whenever a Prime was mentioned. He thought that sort of thing would've come up at some point in the last nine million years, but...

Whatever the case, he shoved the thought aside as Uzi scoffed at his reaction. Thankfully she didn't interrupt as he continued to give his talk.

"The Ark is returning to Cybertron. And with it… something." N gestured vaguely before glancing around at the skeletal remains of ruined buildings around themselves. "Optimus didn't say exactly what it was, but he assured us that it could bring Cybertron back to life. To make it how it used to be," His voice softened as the old memories surfaced, when he first came to this amazing world that had so much life to it, even while it was a frozen landscape.

"I don't know if you remember this but there was a time when the surface moved and breathed—it had life. We think that maybe… maybe, this could change the war or even end it." He looked back at Uzi, hopeful to find some kind of understanding on her face. Instead he was met with a look of sheer contempt.

It wasn't that Uzi couldn't picture what N was saying. She could. She'd seen the archives—everyone of her classmates had. It also was what they dreamed about. Cybertron, their home, had once been alive. It was a planet that was constantly shifting and reshaping itself in harmony with its people. It was a place of industry, of energy, of wonder, of beauty, and so much more.

It was a world of steel. It was their world.

But that world was gone.

Now it was nothing but a metal broken ball, it was silent and lifeless. A corpse drained of everything it had—all because the Autobots had refused to let Lord Megatron take his rightful place as ruler. Instead of allowing him to save their home—to bring forth the Golden age he promised—they let it wither and die, just to spite him.

Such a thought, such a terrible thing to happen made Uzi's head throb again, but she ignored such pain once more, as she forced her focus back onto N. "Oh, so a Prime is coming along to solve all our problems. Isn't that wonderful?" Sarcasm dripped from every syllable as she unfolded her arms. "And all we have to do is just believe him?"

She pulled herself closer to N, while also jabbing a finger into his chest. "Let's make something clear, Autobot."

Another jab. "You and your kind have slaughtered thousands of us."

Another. "You built a Spire the size of a Titan from our dead— not just of Decepticons, but my people. The drones of my colony. Stupid but innocent NAILs."

Her voice wavered, but the fire behind it never faded. With every emphasized word, she jabbed her finger into his chest, punctuating her rage. "So give me a single reason—one good, solid reason—why I should trust you. The same kind of drone that slaughtered Doll's parents right in front of her, the same kind of drone that murdered my mom."

Uzi pulled back and reached within her hoodie. Having lost her backpack in the crash, she was thankful that she had managed to keep some things on her person. That strange weapon thing Swindle gave her, and much more importantly—her dad's wrench. She shoved it beneath N's chin, pressing the cold hard metal against his own warm soft metal.

"This," she spat, "is the wrench my dad had to use to put my mom out of her misery after one of you injected her with your nanite acid." There was a grim sense of satisfaction in seeing N's reaction. How his eyes would widen, and he flinched at her words. Even his tail dropped and became limp.

"Do you understand the kind of waking nightmare you put us through?" she hissed, pushing the wrench just a bit harder against him. "Knowing that we can never leave our home because someone would kill and eat us. And now you're asking me to just take you at your word that you're bringing something as nice as peace? The only peace you Autobots know of is of a graveyard!"

She braced herself for the inevitable response. Some kind of rebuttal, an insult, a sneer—something Autobot of him. She expected him to scoff, to roll his optics, to brush her off like all his kind had done to Decepticons throughout history. To dismiss her pain as if it were—

No. He doesn't do that. Instead…

N just looked at her. Not with pity. Not with condescension. With something far worse. It wasn't judgment. It wasn't dismissal. It was something she didn't want to deal with right now.

Worry.

He genuinely looked worried for her. His optics flicked down to the wrench, then back to her. His voice, when it came, was quiet and careful—No, it was gentle. "You just… keep this with you?" He reached up, his fingers brushing against her wrist. Not to pry the wrench away, just to see it better. To watch as it shined under the moonlight. "I don't think this is very healthy."

Uzi's expression twisted, as she ripped her arm away from his hold. "I'm not taking self-care lessons from a bot that eats other bots!" She yelled, throwing her arms up in pure, unfiltered frustration, especially as she felt the temperature within face get warm again from his touch.

"Fair." Uzi then noticed that his expression shifted. The regret was there again, settling deep into his visor, making his optics turn dim again. He looked… lost. Like he was carrying something too heavy for himself to hold.

And for some reason, that made Uzi feel terrible.

She shouldn't feel bad about making an Autobot sad—she was a Decepticon! This should be her favorite pastime! She should enjoy watching him squirm under the weight of his guilt. So why did it feel like she was the one suffocating under it, why did it make her feel like she was the bad guy? Her hands clenched at her sides as she tried to will away the awful, twisting sensation in her chest—within her spark.

Then, N asked, "Do you have a picture of her?" The question was so sudden that it made Uzi blink in surprise. "Your mom, do you have a picture of her you could show me?"

She did. Stored safely within her system, Uzi had dozens of saved images—memories passed down to her by her father. They were precious, but also private. And now an Autobot, an angel, was asking to see them? Her optics narrowed with suspicion as she asked, "Why you asking?"

N was clearly uncomfortable about the subject as he began to fidget with his hands, fingers curling and uncurling against themselves almost like he was trying to literally build whatever he wanted to say. "Because I… I might…" He faltered, his voice barely above a murmur. He was forcing himself to speak, to push through whatever was clouding his mind.

"There's a chance I might be able to recognize her. The faces of the drones I've… I've killed, they blur together…sometimes." He winced as he said it, as if the admission physically hurt. "But if I saw her, maybe I'd remember. And you deserve to know if..."His optics were as dim as possible as he tried to finish the thought, while raising a shaky hand to himself. "If the one who killed your mom was—mmph?"

Uzi's body moved on its own, as suddenly her hands shot out, clamping tightly over N's mouth.

"Stop." Her own voice was barely above a whisper now, it was trembling at the edges. She couldn't look at him. Couldn't meet those too-soft optics, that stupidly guilt-ridden expression that made her stomach twist into something unbearable.

"Just… stop."

She didn't know why she did it. She didn't know why the thought of him feeling worse made her panic. All she knew was that she didn't want him to say it. Didn't want him to know. Hell, she didn't want to know.

He was too nice, he was too caring. How the hell was he an Autobot? How was he—It didn't matter. All Uzi knew was that she didn't want to see that pained look on his face anymore. That she didn't want him to look at her anymore with regret and sorrow. She didn't know why? She just…

"Please. Let's just drop it."

Carefully, she pulled her hand away, letting him speak again. But he didn't—not right away.

For a few long seconds, N stayed quiet, giving her the time she needed to compose herself again. To force the subtle emotional shudders out of her frame and to steady her hands. Only when she finally looked at him, and allowed their optics to meet did he move.

His optics were still dim—but there was still that gentleness in them, too. A softness that made her throat feel tight. He held something out. Her dad's wrench. She didn't even remember letting it go. But there it was, resting in N's outstretched palm, waiting for her to take it back.

"I know this is gonna be hard to hear, but…" He sounded so unsure now as he spoke. "I know how you feel." Uzi wanted to ignore him, to simply say, 'No, you don't. You can't. Bite me!' But, instead she just stared at him.

N's focus was on the wrench, he spun it between his fingers before continuing. "My friend, Impactor, died recently." His tone was distant, like he was pulling the words from a place he hadn't wanted to revisit. "We think Decepticons killed him. Or maybe some NAILs. Maybe both…A NAIL colony drone that turned into a Decepticon."

Uzi tried not to react, as he looked back her. Tried not to let even a flicker of recognition show on her face. And she failed spectacularly. Her entire frame locked up like rusted gears, her optics went wide, and she could feel sweat beads loading onto her visor. Her mind screamed at her to stay still, to not give anything away. But it was pointless—he saw everything.

"Yeah," N murmured. "I figured you would know about him." There was no accusation in his tone. No anger. Just a quiet understanding. He let the words settle for a moment before offering the wrench back, gesturing it toward her. "He was a friend of mine." His voice was somehow gentler, like he was trying not to press too hard on a wound they both knew was there. "I know he wasn't always the best person. I know he did terrible things. Maybe even worse things than I'll never know about. But I do know that he regretted them."

Uzi's fingers curled tightly around the wrench. Her voice was cold when she finally found it again. "And that suddenly makes it better?" Her grip tightened. "He killed prisoners of war."

She wasn't blind to what N was doing. The connection he was making between them. It was almost too perfect that the two of them would meet like this. Either there was such a thing as fate, or Primus had a dark sense of humor.

Either way, it would end with N shaking his head. "There's no such thing as helpless Decepticons." His tone was so matter-of-fact, so relaxed. "So long as you're willing to fight, you'll always be dangerous."

A beat passes and then…

Then, to Uzi's own surprise, she lets out a short, humorless huff. "Damn right we are." To her greater surprise, N actually smiled and that made her smile too.

It was bitter. Fleeting. But for a split second, they shared something—something that almost felt like understanding. It didn't last. N's expression sobered as he took a slow, deliberate breath. "You asked for a single reason to believe me." Uzi's smile vanished immediately as she readied herself for whatever he had to say. "Then I'll give you one. The best one I have. You need to believe me, because we've already lost enough people we care about."

A pit formed in her stomach at such simple, yet…ever truer words.

"Your mom. My friend. They're just two of the countless we've lost in this war. And I…" N's voice grew quieter, more fragile. "I'm tired of it." Something raw flickered in his optics, and she saw it. His age was finally showing. How long had he been fighting in this war, she wondered. How many had he killed for him to look so tired, so beaten. "I don't want to hurt anyone anymore."

His words hung heavy between them, as he finally let go of her wrench and then slowly, deliberately, he raised his hand up to the air. With a sickening whirr, his fingers shifted—elongating, sharpening into razor-edged claws. The transformation was instant. Unnatural. Wrong.

Uzi flinched and before she could stop herself, she threw her right arm back in a ready stance, mirroring the way that N and his team would release their built-in weapons. But nothing came of it. No hidden weapon. No real defense. So he… pretended not to notice.

"I've killed a lot of drones," he said, voice straining between forced nonchalance and the crushing weight of admission. "And I… I liked it. But I don't want this to be all my life has to offer." He hesitated, looking at his own reflection in his claws, watching how the sharp edges caught the dim moonlight. They twitched, curling slightly. "I don't think I wanted to be a monster growing up. Someone that kills and scares other drones."

The claws retracted suddenly, like the mere sight of them disgusted him. "Yet, here I am. With a mountain of corpses, literally just a mile away that I helped make. I'm someone that likes the feeling of warm, sweet energon-blood on my hands. I've even… licked my fingers to clean it off sometimes."

His optics flickered— they turned brighter, sharper, brimming with something that Uzi knew of all too well. It was self-loathing. It was the kind of look she used to give herself in the mirror, before she learned of Lord Megatron, and the Decepticon cause.

"And yet, I want to help people." N laughed bitterly at the thought. "Primus, does that even make any kind of sense?"

Uzi's answer came without hesitation. "Of course it does."

N was startled by how certain she sounded. But he became more understanding the more she spoke. "I killed my first drone not too long ago. And I liked it. I really liked it."

Her fingers twitched at the memory, there was a ghost of sensation crawling up her frame. She remembered how it felt having Impactor's head beneath the heel of her boot. She could still hear the sickening crunch of metal giving way as she stomped down with all her might. The kill had sent a shiver of satisfaction through her circuits—It felt right to end him.

He was an Autobot. An enemy. Someone who deserved to die. Someone she didn't have to feel guilty for. But now, as the memory played back in her mind, she wondered—was this how the N felt when he did his killings? Was this how the other Autobots felt? Her fellow Decepticons?

…Was this how Overlord felt?

The thought made her cringe.

"My friends," Uzi hesitated, as she glanced in the direction Lizzy and Thad had walked off. "One of them called me evil for wanting to do it in the first place, for wanting to join this war. And maybe he was right. But because of what I did, innocent people—drones that didn't deserve to die—did." Her shoulders tensed up as sight of the fallen Vehicons flashed in her mind—their bodies broken, lifeless, her fault.

"And it got to me. It got to me real bad. But feeling bad has to mean something right? For both of us." She met N's optics again, searching for something—understanding, maybe.

He didn't speak. He didn't need to. She saw it in the way his frame sagged, in the way his expression softened with something close to empathy. He understood where she was coming from. So she shrugged, and offered a small, bitter smirk. "Maybe we are evil, but like… only a little?"

It started small—awkward, hesitant. Then it grew, bubbling up into something neither of them quite expected. Before long, they were laughing. Hard.

To the point that their frames shook, and soon, neither could even sit upright. They collapsed together onto their backs, their optics to the sky, their voices echoing into the quiet of Kalis's abandoned streets.

Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was the absurdity of the conversation. Maybe it was just… needed. The laughter eventually died down, but the silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable. It was different—lighter, maybe even peaceful.

N was the first one to sit back up, with Uzi following his lead. They would look at each other, and still be smiling. It was so…odd. Yet fitting. "I just don't want to think about the bad stuff anymore." N said. Leaving the words between them like a fragile thread, one wrong pull away from snapping.

Then, slowly, he extended his hands toward her—palms out, fingers spread. His movements were careful, deliberate, unthreatening. Uzi recognized the gesture immediately. It was an offering. An old Cybertronian tradition—a greeting that showed mutual respect, and acknowledgment. As a peer.

As a friend.

Her optics flickered to his hands, then back to his face. He was still smiling at her as he finally introduced himself. "Optimus believes in second chances. I want to believe in them too. So, let's start right here. Between the two of us. I am Serial Designation N-0X0010010. But you can call me, N. I'm from planet Earth, and I was sent by the Sumdac corporation to assist in the war for Cybertron. I am part of the Disassembly Squad. I am an Autobot."

Though hesitant, Uzi raised her hands to meet his own. "I could tell you had human masters with a name like that… You deserve a real name, N. One you can choose for yourself."

Their fingers met first—it was a soft contact, followed by a deliberate press of palm against palm. Ideally, their hands should have aligned perfectly, each fitting against the other. But Uzi's were noticeably smaller than his. The difference sent an odd, embarrassed heat through her, though she forced herself to ignore it.

"I am Uziel Doorman," she said, "But, I choose to be called Uzi. I'm from Cybertron, and I am from the underground colony of Kalis. I'm not even fully a Decepticon yet, but I want to be." There was a small pause, before she added, "And I like to believe in second chances too." She looked up at N, and her processor stuttered when she realized he was, again, still smiling at her even as their hands were touching. A kind gentle smile that matched his eyes. He was happy, she made him happy. And that somehow made her feel...

Oh.

Suddenly, the warmth rushing to her face made a lot more sense, and she quickly cast her gaze downward, attempting to dismiss the way her circuits buzzed with sudden awareness or that a blush had loaded onto her visor. She tried to just pin it all to the fact that she was programmed to be hormonal at this age, she assured herself that was it. That was totally it.

It had nothing to do with him being tall. It had nothing to do with him being so kind. It had nothing to do with him having soft hands, a handsome face, and how generally pleasant he was to be around! That was final! Why was there a program in her visor telling her that she was perfectly running ?

Uzi shut her optics and quickly took a deep breath. "Are you okay?" N would ask, and she can feel his fingers twitch against her own. "I know you're hurt. We can stop if you need to—"

"No, it's fine." She opened her optics again, meeting his gaze. There was something so frustratingly gentle in the way he looked at her, like he was able to see past the cracks in her armor. She hated it. She liked it. "I'm made of sterner stuff."

She wanted him to believe that. She wanted to believe that. After all, she was a Decepticon. And yet, her voice still became soft, as she said, "But… Thank you for asking."

Her fingers moved on their own. Without thinking, they closed around N's hand, interlocking. He did the same, his grip firm yet careful—like he was afraid she might pull away. Jokes on him, she didn't want to.

For a brief moment, they just stood there, silent, unmoving. Their hands remained pressed together, fingers laced as though they had always fit that way. It was such a small thing, so simple, yet considering the war that had spanned eons, in a world defined by a craving for destruction, violence, and hatred, this—this—was something neither side had experienced in a long, long time.

Peace.

Uzi did want to believe it was possible. That maybe the war could end. If Optimus was coming, then that meant so was Megatron. And while she didn't believe for a second that a false prophet would ever bring anything to help the people of Cybertron, she knew that her lord would. He was the only one able to bring the golden age that was promised...because he was Megatron. She had to believe that. Despite everything wrong with the Decepticons that she's witnessed, she had to believe that.

He was her hero.

"Till all are one." She and N spoke in unison, their voices barely above a whisper. Slowly, their fingers untangled, hands slipping away with a strange reluctance. The moment passed, but something unspoken lingered in the air between them. Uzi tried to ignore it as she turned to look toward the street, her gaze following the path Lizzy and Thad had taken.

"If we rush, we might be able to meet up with your friends," N offered, gesturing with his tail toward the colony. His optics were bright with enthusiasm, but Uzi only hummed as she swung her legs over the car roof.

"I don't know if it's right for me to call them my friends, they are more so classmates," she admitted, pushing herself off the edge and landing with a solid thud along the snow, her legs shaking a bit as pain shot through her system. Oddly enough it wasn't nearly as much as there was before.

N dropped down after her, effortlessly landing beside her as they started walking, side by side. They left behind the area with the mangled Decepticon wreckage, the echoes of the crash site now fading into the stillness of the streets.

"But I better make sure they didn't somehow get lost without me." Uzi smirked slightly. "I am kinda the leader of our squad. We even made a team name from our initials—UTLD."

N let out a small, delighted gasp. "Like hot lead! That's so cool!" Uzi couldn't help but chuckle at his excitement. "Ugh, that's way better than my team's name," he groaned. "I've never been a fan of the whole 'angel' thing. V once told me it was either that or we'd be called robo-vampires. Honestly? I still don't know which one I hate more."

"Who's V?"

"Oh, she's kind of my… uh…" N suddenly seemed hesitant, as he raised a hand to touch the back of his head. "Well, we don't exactly have a label, but we kind of been—" He stopped abruptly.

Uzi brow furrowed as she looked up at him. She quickly noticed that his entire frame had gone rigid, his posture no longer casual but tense—alert. Before she could ask what was wrong, his hand landed firmly on her shoulder. "Uzi, get behind me." His tone had lost all of its warmth and gentleness. His grip was firm, and he was pulling her backwards.

"Hey, I don't need—" She stopped mid-sentence as her audio receptor's picked up a sound. A low, distant rumble… the unmistakable thump-thump-thump of helicopter rotors.

She darted her optics upward, scanning the sky. "Doll?" She called out the name on instinct, half-expecting to see the familiar shape of her cousin above them in her vehicle mode. But what she saw instead made her spark plummet.

The aircraft hovering in the distance was huge—bulkier, heavily armored, its frame carrying a menacing weight to it. She recognized it immediately because it was the same color and shape of a certain pilot's armor. "Grindor?"

"Uzi!"

She snapped her attention forward. Down the road, Lizzy was shouting, her voice raw with urgency. She clung tightly to the back of Thad's vehicle mode, her optics wide with panic. "Run!"

Uzi and N barely had time to react before beige blur shot from a nearby alleyway, and slammed into the pick up truck with the force of an avalanche. There was a brutal twist of a mining fork, and Thad was lifted—no, flung through the air like a toy.

Uzi's optics widened in horror and turned hollow at the sight.

The truck spun before it hit the snow, crashing hard and bouncing before folding into Thad's bot mode. He barely had time to groan before Lizzy tumbled beside him, shielding Doll's limp body as best as she could. The thing that had hit them shifted, its vehicle frame splitting apart, gears grinding as metal plates locked into place. A towering figure emerged, his absolute mess of armor was thick and scarred from countless battles. His red optics burned beneath a jagged visor. "Autobot scum!"

Bonesmasher.

His snarl was a guttural, grating sound, and his name fitted him far too well. He loomed over the downed drones, his heavy form crunching against the ice. He wasn't just a bruiser—he was an executioner, built to dismantle bots limb by limb. And Uzi knew all too well what he could do, as he aimmed his mining fork on the fallen colony drones. Her spark pounded in her chest as she quickly transformed her arm into its weapon form. But N moved much faster than she did.

"I'll deal with him! You take care of the others—"

Without hesitation, N shot forward, massive bladed wings unfurling from his back in a sudden, deadly display. His hands shifted, morphing into razor-sharp claws as he braced himself to face the Decepticon enforcer head-on.

But the moment he left the ground, the snow beneath them exploded. A blur of movement shot upward streaking toward N like a bullet. Before Uzi could shout a warning, there was a collision in mid-air as something massive and fast slammed into his side, knocking him back down to the ground.

She saw that the thing that had hit him was a Mini-Con—but more like one of the Insecticons of Kaon. This one was a scorpion, and its armored frame was easily as big as she was, with its claws snapping with terrifying speed. As is held down N's wings—its metallic jaws clamping down on his shoulder, fangs sinking deep into the joint. Sparks flew as the metal crunched under the pressure. Energon-blood was splattering against the snow. N was screaming.

She moved before she even realized what she was doing.

With a fierce cry, Uzi lashed out, slamming her foot as hard as she could into the oversized Insecticon's side. The impact sent a sharp jolt up her leg, and the creature let out a shrill hiss, its body skidding across the snow. But it wasn't enough. The monstrous thing barely faltered before scrambling upright, its legs twitching, mandibles clacking angrily. Then, in a blur of motion, it scuttled back, disappearing beneath the snow with unsettling ease, leaving only a hollow pit in its place.

"N, are you—" She barely got the words out before something slammed into the back of her head. Pain exploded through her circuits. Her optics flickered, static crawling at the edges of her vision as she dropped hard to her knees. The already unbearable pounding in her head grew tenfold, a fresh wave of agony washing over her.

Distantly, she heard a sneering voice. "What was that about ionized carbide?" Her vision swam as she turned, blinking sluggishly through the haze as her vision was glitching. Negatron stood over her, one of his oars gripped tightly in hand, a cruel smirk stretched across his face.

"Eh, I'll probably forget about it." He lifted his weapon again, preparing to bring it crashing down.

Pure instinct took over. Uzi gritted her teeth and lashed out with her leg, aiming for the weak spot in his armor—the exposed knee joint. The sickening crunch of metal folding the wrong way echoed through the street. Negatron howled as he collapsed backward, clutching his now-bent limb. "Ahh, shocking glitch!" He writhed in the snow, sparks spitting from the damaged joint as he cursed her name.

Uzi forced herself to move, pushing against the icy ground as her arms trembled under her weight. She could hear N groaning in pain, could see him out of the corner of her vision— his shoulder leaking badly as he struggled to rise to his feet, with his wings folding back into his back.

She had to help him. She had to—

A blur of motion. A shadow looming passed her. Then impact.

Bonesmasher barreled through, slamming his thick forearm into her chest like a battering ram. Air—what little she could take in—was knocked from her internal vents as she was sent flying. The world became a blur of static before she crashed down hard, the snow barely cushioning her landing.

Pain. Blinding, suffocating pain tore through her body. Her limbs screamed in protest as she tried to move, every nerve system within her body alight with raw agony. The wounds she had woken up with earlier, the ones she had forced herself to ignore, now came roaring back, amplified a thousand times over.

Her vision swam as she rolled onto her side, struggling to make sense of what was happening. Then thump-thump-thump of helicopter rotors grew louder, cutting through the chaos like a war drum. It was followed by the mechanical purr of a T-Cog shifting.

The ground trembled beneath Uzi as something massive slammed down beside her. A rush of displaced air whipped against her frame, sending shards of ice and snow scattering. The heavy groan of shifting metal filled the space around her, and when she forced her aching head up, her flickering optics met the hulking form of Grindor.

He loomed over her like a walking mountain, his towering frame plated in thick, gunmetal-gray armor, his red optics gleaming with cold contempt.

"I knew it was too good to be true," he sneered, his voice a deep, gravelly growl. Uzi coughed, overclocking her own systems just to hear what he was saying. "Four children, wandering straight into our hands from the City of Angels. Bah!" Grindor stomped the ground near her, the sheer force of it sent another jolt through the already unstable terrain, kicking up flecks of dirt and snow.

"Leaving you as bait seemed like the perfect plan. It sure looked like all of you were friends, after all." His words felt distant, muffled by the static ringing in her own head.

"He… shot us down, you idiot!" Uzi rasped, trying to push herself up, but her body refused to cooperate. Something was wrong. Her servos twitched erratically, her limbs trembling so violently she could barely keep them under control. Every attempt to force herself upright only made the shaking worse, like her entire system was on the verge of seizing up. And yet dear Primus, somehow all of that was nothing compared to how the inside of her head was screaming at her. How it pulsed in a way she never had felt before. She could see her own code was…rewriting itself?

"And yet, all of you are still breathing." Grindor barely acknowledged the protest, as she leaned down at her, his tone turning cold as he said, "That won't be for long. You will each be delivered to Commander Shockwave. Personally. He'll enjoy turning each of you into new projects—"

Then he stopped.

Mid-sentence, his optics shifted, his head snapping toward something else.

Uzi forced herself to follow his gaze as best she could—And she saw it. Rather, she saw N. He was fighting against Bonesmasher—not just fighting, he was winning! N's anxious, cheerful expression was gone—his optics burned with something raw, something furious. His movements were precise, relentless. He fought with an intensity Uzi had only ever seen before in recordings of the gladiator Pits of Kaon.

The enforcer, the brute, the Decepticon wall of metal and violence was getting pushed back, as N ripped a jagged slab of metal from the snow and smashed it into Bonesmasher's face with teeth-rattling force—sensing the Con staggering backwards from the impact.

But N didn't stop at that, as he threw the broken metal aside and lunged, tackling Bonesmasher and sending both of them crashing into the ruins of a demolished transport vehicle.

Uzi felt breath hitched as she watched it happen. Like before, she couldn't put the two mental images together in her head. The same drone that she was speaking to earlier, the one she was just laughing and holding hands with…was fighting like a true warrior—a champion. An Angel of Death.

Bonesmasher roared, his optics were blazing as he swung a haymaker at full might, the kind of strike that could shatter a drone chassis on impact. Yet, N was able to catch the arm mid-swing. With a vicious twist of the limb, he wrenched the brute's arm aside, exposing an opening—a loud creak filled the air—N's fist drove deep into the Decepticon's back, denting armor and sending a violent spray of sparks as wiring snapped beneath the impact.

The enforcer snarled, he swung wildly in a desperate counterattack—his clawed hands swiping through the air, inches from N's head, as the Autobot had ducked down beneath the strike. There was an almost predatory gleam in his optics as he delivered another punch. Then another and another.

Each blow was precise in how it crushed metal, sending ripples of kinetic force through Bonesmasher's frame. The Decepticon stumbled, his immense body shuddering as the relentless blows forced him back. He lost his footing and fell backwards, forced to roll across the snow like a broken machine. He managed to catch himself, but the moment his feet found solid ground, N was already rushing forward.

In the blink of an optic, his hand had shifted and folded within his forearm, it was quickly replaced by a long blade as it unsheathed itself, extending in an instant—it was sleek, sharp, and designed for killing. N drove the blade through Bonesmasher's shoulder, punching clean through the armor plating. The enforcer screamed.

Seizing the embedded blade like a lever, N yanked, forcing the Decepticon toward himself—just in time to meet a shattering elbow strike to the face. The glass of Bonesmasher's visor creaks. Energon is splattered. A sickening metallic shriek echoed through the streets as N gripped Bonesmasher's ruined shoulder and, with raw, unrelenting power, he flipped the Decepticon over his own body.

Bonesmasher crashed into the snow so hard the ground sank beneath him. His energon bled out in thick, dark streaks, staining the white landscape black.

"Stop this. All of you, right now!" N's voice cut through the battlefield, his frustration clear in his voice as hestood in defiance of their surprise assault, his optics locking onto each Decepticon as they began to recover. Negatron was already staggering to his feet, Bonesmasher twitched as his systems struggled to reboot. But N's true focus was Grindor, who still stood over a downed Uzi.

Her eyes meet his for a brief moment. He saw the pained expression on her face, and it caused him to bare his fangs. "You get one warning. Stand down."

N's blade-arm remained extended. His tail flicked behind him, poised to lash out with a lethal spray of nanite acid at a moment's notice. Every inch of him was locked in a stance both rigid and fluid. "I have a message from Optimus Prime, I call for a ceasefire! Under the law of the Tyrest Accord, you are to obey!"

Uzi's eyes widened in recognition. The Tyrest Accord was a relic of peace long since abandoned—a treaty established in the early days of the war, when the last Prime and Megatron still believed in negotiations. The Accord's rules were simple: no targeting of medics, no execution of prisoners, no firing on a messenger bearing a call for a ceasefire.

They were rules that were supposed to hold weight, as they were laws held by Lord Megatron himself. But as Uzi shifted her gaze toward Grindor, she saw not an ounce of hesitation. Not a flicker of doubt. Only pure hatred in his optics. The Decepticon took a step forward, no longer paying her any mind it would seem. "To hell with your message." His gravelly voice barked. "The only message your kind brings is death."

"This is important," N countered, not even flinching at the accusation. "It could mark the end of the war. We don't need to fight."

Grindor scoffed. "I don't give a damn about the war." The moment those words left his lips, the battlefield shifted to his favor. Bonesmasher lurched to his feet and reached over his back, seizing a massive plasma cannon—its barrel still stained with streaks of dried energon-blood from previous victims. Negatron pulled himself upward as well, as he spun his oar in one hand, his other gripping a compact blaster from his side, its barrel already humming with charge.

And then—the whirring started.

A sharp, shrieking metallic howl is heard throughout the streets—rising in pitch as Grindor's rotor spun to life, the blades mounted on his arm moving in such deadly speed that it was essentially turned to a giant saw blade.

Grindor leaned forward slightly, the whirling blades sending thin flecks of snow and dust scattering into the air. His voice was ice-cold, but seething beneath the surface. "You killed my brother some time ago. I want some payback!"

For the first time since the battle began—N became hesitant. A flicker of thought crossed his optics as he seemed to dig through his memory files. "Uh…" He awkwardly scratched the back of his head with his free hand. "I've killed a lot of brothers. You're gonna have to be a little more specific."

Grindor's optics burned as he stomped forward. "My twin brother!" He growled out.

N's face lit up in recognition. "Oh! I thought you looked familiar. Blackout, right? That was his name?" Grindor's fists clenched. The screeching of his saw blade reached a fever pitch, as both Bonesmasher and Negatron stepped forward with their weapons at the ready. And yet—

N wasn't looking at them. He was cocked his head, ever so casually, his optics shifting—not toward his enemies, but toward Uzi once more. For a second, she was confused as to why he would look to her. Then she caught the subtle flicker of his gaze, the quick, deliberate glance toward the side—toward the others. Where Lizzy, Thad, and Doll were.

The realization struck her like a shot from her own gun mode.

He's going to hold the other Decepticons off—Alone—to give her a chance to help her friends. Such an idea made her jaw clenched, it gave her the anger she needed to force herself upright.

She shook her head firmly, refusing to leave him like this. Three against one—he didn't stand a chance, no matter how hard he fought or that he was an Angel. His shoulder was still covered in energon-blood, if it wasn't, she was sure she could see the ugly gash across his plating left by the Insecticon's bite—It was still something lurking beneath the snow, unseen, waiting to strike. She couldn't leave him. N was her friend!

Uzi was just about to release her safety, to ready her cannon-arm as she forced herself to her knees, she didn't care about the fire burning through her circuits, she didn't care about the multiple warnings flashing across her visor, because as she looked at N—

He smiled at her. That same gentle, sweet smile. The one that made her spark flutter, that somehow told her everything was going to be okay, even when it didn't seem so.

She had to look away, she had to. If she stared at him any longer, she might just stay. Might just throw herself into the fight beside him, consequences be damned. Because…she knew he was right, that she had to help the others.

She turned toward Lizzy and Thad.

They were painfully slow in picking themselves up, groggy from pain and battle fatigue. Thad's frame trembled as he tried to stand, Lizzy was barely managing to crawl along the snow. And then there was Doll, already badly damaged before this fight, now tossed around like a dead scraplet.

They needed her.

Though it made Uzi's hand clench into a tight fist, her fingers trembling with hesitation and bitterness—she made her decision. With a sharp exhale, she forced her cannon-arm to retract back into its normal form, the shifting plates locking into place with a quiet clink.

"Don't die, Autobot." Her voice was barely above a whisper, before she turned and ran as best she could without looking back.

Leaving N to give his full attention back to the Cons. "Sooo, I don't suppose you'd settle for a sincere apology?" He asked, as he looked back at the Decepticons. He gets no answer, only hateful glares. "Well, if it makes any of you feel better…Blackout tasted delicious."

Bonesmasher's grip on his cannon tightened. Negatron's blaster hummed with power, the charge growing hotter by the second. And Grindor…his saw blade shrieked as it spun at max settings. "Kill him!" He roared.

The command shattered the moment's stillness. Like a tidal wave of steel and fury, the Decepticons lunged forward for the assault while N's smile turned to a smirk as a pair of razor-sharp blade wings formed from his back. Though he was out-numbered—Though he would be put on the backfoot, and left at a complete disadvantage. It felt all the more worth it as he was helping someone for the first time in many, many years.

Because it's been too long since he felt like an Autobot.