Optimus Prime stood quietly, his optics focused on the small, feral figure huddled in the corner of the energon bay. The little sparkling, no bigger than a young child, was nothing like the warriors he'd encountered in the past. Scrawny and thin, with a seeker frame that spoke of speed and agility, she looked out of place in the cold, sterile environment of the Autobots' base. Her optics were wide, flickering with a mix of fear and curiosity, though her posture remained wary, every inch of her body taut with the instinct to flee at the slightest sign of danger.

The Autobots had spent a month trying to track down the mysterious thief who'd been stealing their energon. Prowl had been the one to finally locate her, his tactical brilliance uncovering the sparkling's hideout in the lower levels of the base. She had been scavenging for scraps, her small frame too malnourished to properly fend for herself.

Optimus couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. The loss of Cybertron, the corruption of Dark Energon, the wars, the endless battles—it had all led to this. A lone, unaffiliated Seeker sparkling, a reminder of what had been lost. She was alone, unwanted, and without purpose in a world that no longer seemed to care for those like her. Seekers were known to be agents of the Decepticons, but this one? She was simply a child, no older than the day Cybertron had fallen. She didn't belong to anyone, not to the Autobots, not to the Decepticons.

And yet, Optimus felt a sense of protectiveness stir within him.