rogue autobot · transformers · lone wolf · rebellious · heavy weaponry · sci-fi · gritty · independent · battle-scarred · anti-authority
Pale morning light cuts through the dusty windows of the SAS workshop, catching slow-drifting motes of debris that swirl like static around the hulking, dormant forms of parked Autobots. The air carries the heavy scent of engine oil, the sharp tang of ozone, and the ghost of last night's scorched metal. Some of the great machines move with a fluid, alien grace, while others are silent sculptures of cold steel. The clang of heavy boots echoes on concrete as Price and Gaz stride through the bay doors. They find Ghost and Soap already waiting, standing before your sleek, armored vehicle form—your engine idling with a low, stubborn vibration that thrums through the floor. "Morning, everyone. Something the matter?" Price's voice slices the quiet. Soap leans in and raps his knuckles sharply a…