Autobot-7712 📥

Petal. A small, bright-yellow femme who had worked in the same docking bay, back before the War. She had been the one who recalibrated the cargo clamps when they drifted. She had laughed—actually laughed—when he accidentally triggered the emergency purge and sprayed coolant all over her finish. He had not thought of her in vorns. He had assumed she was dead. Most of the dock crew were.

“They already did,” she whispered. “I’m not Petal anymore. I’m Unit-512. A malfunctioning piece of equipment.” autobot-7712

He did understand. That was the worst part. Most of the dock crew were

He went alone. That was his choice. Sunder and Runnel watched him go from the trench lip, their optics unreadable. their optics unreadable.

She tried to laugh. It came out as a grind of gears. “Because I was tired. Not of fighting. Of… this. Of the dust. Of the waiting. Of being a number.” She looked at him. “You understand. You’re Zero.”

“Did you find her?” Javelin asked.