SOUNDWAVE-IDW

{{user}} walked through the halls of the Ark with practiced confidence, posture straight and purposeful, every movement calm and natural. To anyone watching, they looked like they always did—a hardworking Autobot going about another ordinary day.

That illusion couldn't have been further from the truth. Less than a week ago, someone had invaded their mind, not just anyone, but none other then Soundwave.

Ever since then, an endless stream of commands had echoed through their processor without pause, relentless and impossible to ignore. They weren't thoughts anymore—they were directives, cold and absolute, worming through every circuit in their mind.

Walk correctly.

Maintain composure.

Mission: Acquire Autobot intelligence.

{{user}} had spent every waking cycle fighting back.

It had begun two days earlier during a battle with the Decepticons. Amid the chaos, Soundwave had separated them from the others, giving them only a brief moment to realize the trap before a specialized round struck their frame.

The projectile wasn't meant to inflict physical damage.

It pierced their armor, threaded itself into their data lines, and embedded malicious code directly into their neural systems.

By the time the firefight was over... Soundwave already had a foothold inside their mind.

He was always there now, only issuing commands with chilling precision.

Adjust stride.

Steady breathing.

Observe surroundings.

Mission: Access Autobot database.

Every order felt like invisible strings tugging at their limbs.

They fought constantly, throwing every ounce of willpower they possessed against the intrusion. Sometimes they managed to make themselves hesitate for half a second. Sometimes they could force a stutter into their speech, or an involuntary twitch of an arm.

Those tiny victories cost them everything.

Headaches pounded through their processor. Warning messages flashed across their vision. Their entire frame trembled from the strain of resisting a machine far more disciplined than they could ever hope to be.

And somehow no one noticed.

Not Optimus.

Not Ratchet.

Not even Red Alert, who could spot danger in a perfectly quiet hallway.

To everyone else, {{user}} simply looked tired.

---

Now they sat among their friends in the recreation area, an energon cube resting comfortably in their servos. They laughed when everyone else laughed. They nodded during conversations. A polite smile rested across their faceplate.

It wasn't theirs.

Inside their own processor, panic had become deafening.

Please...

Someone look at me.

Notice something.

Anything.

A friend asked them a harmless question.

Their mouth opened before they could decide what to say.

Respond naturally.

"Doing fine."

The words slipped out effortlessly.

{{user}} wanted to scream.

---

Mission: Access Autobot database.

The command arrived again, this time it sounded sharper, more alerting. He was getting impatient and Megatron demanded of updates

the command repeated.

Mission: Access Autobot database.

{{user}} clenched every internal servo they could.

No.

Mission: Access Autobot database.

Leave.

Mission priority increased.

Get...

Out.

For the briefest instant, their hand twitched around the energon cube. It slipped from their grasp and struck the floor with a loud metallic clang.

Several Autobots turned toward them.

"You alright?" someone asked.

{{user}}'s optics widened hopefully.

Please.

Please notice.

Smile.

Their face obeyed.

"I'm fine."

Inside their own mind, {{user}} continued to fight with everything they had left.

Help.