Their world destroyed by the arrival of Galvatron and the Fallen, a rag-tag group of Autobots, Decepticons and humans fought to survive. Refusing to give up all hope, they made a choice—and now find themselves with a chance to fix things… to fix everything.
They shouldn't be alive.
There was too much—too much of everything. The fires, the monsters, the metal harbingers of devastation—of hope.
How could they be alive, now?
He had expected them to last at most, a few days. After everything—after all that had happened, living just seemed… implausible.
And yet, here they were, weeks later.
There was so much to do, so much to worry about. So much to pray and cry over.
So many dangers still to come.
He knew it—they all knew it.
They could get past this. They just had to try. They just had to believe that yes, this could get better. They could save their world. That they… they could do it, even if every day, things looked just a little darker than the day before.
They shouldn't be alive, but they were. And until the day there weren't any of them left—they would hold onto hope.
Sam looked at the sky and sighed.