Rusty POV
Lounging in the driveway, I observed Ron and Judy hustling to load their second car for the French escapade.
I sighed, catching Ron's attention. "What? A little alone time for me and my wife. Can't have you around when I'm soaking in the love I deserve."
I scoffed. "Ron, I don't need that info. I'm just bummed I won't see you or Judy for a while. Enjoy your holiday; I've heard the snails are pretty nice."
Ron, chuckling, headed indoors. "I'll send a postcard."
I couldn't resist yelling after him, "Make it two!"
Their occasional squabble erupted inside, but I wisely steered clear. They usually made up after an hour or two. Best not to mess with the delicate dance of lovebirds.
Just then I heard Ron yell my name and I came running and saw a shit-ton of mini-cons causing havoc.
Amidst the mechanical mayhem, I crushed those mini-cons like soda cans at a recycling plant. Sam, of course, summons Bumblebee, who transforms the garden into a shooting range. A real masterpiece of landscaping.
While Sam's giving Bee a verbal lashing, I'm playing the compassionate counsellor for Judy and Ron, assuring them that a handsome government payout will follow if they zip it about the alien robot battle.
As the firefighters rolled in, I stayed in my alt-form—no need for them to realize I'm not your average car. Ron and Judy, standing beside me, witnessed Sam's farewell with Michaela. No grand declarations of love, just a kiss, and off they went. Classic.
The aftermath? A wrecked garden, a trashed house, and one giant alien robot offering financial hush money. Just another day in the suburbs.
//////
Me and Bee headed to the N.E.S.T HQ, and there was that annoying prick from the movie, the one always making things complicated. I decided he wasn't worth my time and took off for a solo flight, checking out Sam's College from the night sky.
As I soared through the darkness, I spotted Sam entering a party. College life seemed like a wild ride, and there I was, a giant robot, trying to wrap my circuits around the concept of student revelry. It appeared that being a guardian and an alien didn't come with an invitation to the fun. No worries; I'd stick to my own nightlife – a bit of nocturnal stalking.
What am I even blabbering about? I used to be human; I've endured the delights of school.
I continued my clandestine observation with no lights, ensuring I'd be an enigma from the ground. Despite the stealth, my rotors and engine weren't making much noise—guess that's one advantage of being a sleek machine.
Bumblebee pulled up after a while, creating a spectacle. Sam hopped in, accompanied by a girl who seemed strangely familiar. Hard to catch the finer details inside the car from my vantage point, but she departed looking drenched in what I assumed was lubricant.
I tailed them to a graveyard, where Optimus had a chat with Sam before he departed with Bee, heading back to college.
Decided to swing back to N.E.S.T. for a quick recharge before gearing up for yet another airborne adventure.
//////
While Mid-flight, I noticed a chopper hauling a car with people hanging out. Decided to play detective and tail them from a distance, you know, ninja-style.
As they carelessly dropped the car, I landed nearby, ensuring my stealthy presence. Peeking through a window like a robotic James Bond, I spotted Megatron, Starscream, and a creepy little bot having a not-so-friendly chat with Sam, who was inconveniently strapped down.
But then, this creepy little bot pulls a move that even weirds me out, shoving something into Sam's mouth. Seriously? That's not how we make friends on Earth.
Enough was enough. I didn't need an engraved invitation to the Decepticon party, so I crashed through the window, ready to serve sass and firepower to Megatron and his minions. Time to give them a taste of their own metallic medicine.
In a spectacular display of rocket-powered sass, I unleashed a barrage of HIVE rockets onto Megatron, making him reconsider his life choices. Meanwhile, I combined my blasters into a cannon, giving Starscream a one-way ticket through the nearest wall. He left the party without much enthusiasm.
Enter Optimus Prime, crashing through the roof like the metallic superhero he is, ready to throw down with Megatron. As the battle unfolded, Bumblebee joined the party, and together, we managed to chase Starscream off into the shadows.
Michaela, accompanied by a new human sidekick, hopped into Bumblebee and zoomed away, while Sam hitched a ride with Optimus, heading in a direction that promised more metal-on-metal action.
I followed Optimus through the air, witnessing the ambush Megatron had in store for him, tackling our Autobot hero into the ominous depths of the woods.
In a moment of swift intervention, I swooped down into the fray, launching the last of my HIVE rockets like a metallic superhero throwing the final punches in a cosmic boxing match. Despite my explosive efforts, Starscream, Megatron, and the Chopper still managed to gain the upper hand on Optimus, mercilessly beating him to the ground.
Seizing the opportunity to turn the tide, I charged forward and transformed, ready to unleash my own brand of metallic justice on these Decepticon troublemakers. The battlefield was about to witness the arrival of a shiny and sexy saviour.
In a spectacular display of metal warfare, I unsheathed my blade, gracefully slicing through the chopper's leg. With a swift transformation, my hand morphed into a saw, and off went its head. But, alas, my victory dance was rudely interrupted by Megatron's sneak attack.
His shot in the back sent me tumbling across the ground like a discarded toy. Optimus, recovering with Autobot finesse, delivered a barrage at Megatron while throwing punches at Starscream.
Seizing my chance, I assumed a crouched position and merged my blasters, aiming at Megatron. However, the Decepticon leader was quick to retaliate, sending me sprawling backwards. The ground welcomed me for a moment, but I wasn't one to stay down for long.
In the midst of the metallic mayhem, Optimus Prime's dramatic cry for Sam rings out, almost like the climax of a tragic opera. Then, just to add a sprinkle of despair to the mix, a gunshot punctuates the scene, and there lies Optimus, the once mighty Autobot, now as motionless as a Transformer-themed statue.
In a fit of bot-fury, I, Rusty the Avenger, charge at Megatron with all the strength I can muster, ready to avenge our fallen hero. But alas, my grand entrance is met with a backhand that sends me tumbling like a rusty tin can in a storm.
Thankfully, the cavalry of Autobots swoops in to fend off the dastardly duo, Megatron and Starscream, who beat a hasty retreat.
//////
Left in the aftermath, we gather around the fallen Optimus Prime, organizing transport to solemnly ferry him back to base. Mourning in silence, the air is heavy with the weight of loss and a rustling mix of emotions among the Autobots.
As we rolled back to the base, I received an online message from the Fallen, the big bad pulling the strings in the sequel. The moment I read his cryptic note about hunting Sam, I triggered a secure line to contact Bumblebee with all the urgency of a bot on a mission, -:" Bee, spill the coordinates, and I'll be there before you can say 'Autobots, roll out.'":-
Bee swiftly spilt the beans on his location, and I blasted away from the base, blatantly ignoring the incessant calls trying to reach me. Cruising the skies, I played a game of hide-and-seek until I stumbled upon them in the most unsuspecting of spots – a bloody butcher shop.
Transforming into my Reliant Robin, I stealthily cruised down an empty street, parking inconspicuously behind the twins.
As I bided my time, a flood of memories from my life on Cybertron surged back, and like a linguistic epiphany, I found myself understanding Cybertronian and even recalling my age – well, kind of.
The hidden layers of my identity began to peel away, revealing a past that had been buried in the shadows. It seems Cybertron had more to reveal than I bargained for.
Well, slap my chassis and call me vintage – turns out I was cruising the cosmos when the Fallen was still the cool kid in the Prime club. Guess ancient wisdom comes with the paint job.
As Sam, Michaela, and the newbies – Leo and Sim- what's his name – strutted out, I wrapped up my trip down memory lane. Deciding to join the party, I shadowed them to an air and space museum.