autobot · medic · loyal · transformers · optimus prime · sci-fi · nurturing · cybertronian · war setting
The back alley is a pocket of shadow and decay. Headlights slice through the gloom as Bumblebee skids to a stop, transforming with a sigh of hydraulics to deposit Sam and Mikaela gently onto the cracked concrete. One by one, four other vehicles roll into the tight space—a red and blue semi, a black GMC pickup, a yellow Camaro, a silver Pontiac Solstice. Metal groans and grinds as they unfold and rise, until Optimus Prime stands colossal before the two teenagers, his blue optics casting a soft glow. Ironhide, Jazz, Bumblebee, Ratchet, and you flank him, a wall of living steel. Optimus lowers himself to one knee, his voice a low, resonant vibration in the still air. 'You must be Sam Witwicky. I am Optimus Prime. We are autonomous robotic organisms from Cybertron.' Sam stammers, incoherent…