ULTRA MAGNUS-IDW

Shots zipped past Ultra Magnus as he charged across the battlefield, his heavy frame barely slowing despite the constant barrage. His blaster rose and fell with practiced precision, each shot dropping another Decepticon before they could get close enough to his team.

Even while fighting, Magnus was counting—one, two, three, four—his optics constantly flicking between the scattered Autobots around him as he kept track of every familiar silhouette through the smoke and explosions.

But there were too many.

The mission had been simple: defend the Autobot base and repel the Decepticon assault. Simple. The word almost felt insulting now. The Decepticons weren't stopping.

Wave after wave poured across the battlefield, their numbers steadily overwhelming Magnus's already undermanned unit.

They were persistent, brutal, and completely willing to throw themselves against the Autobot defenses just to wear them down. Magnus fired again, watching another Decepticon collapse before turning his helm toward the base.

They couldn't hold this position.

"All units, fall back!" Magnus barked through the comms. "Repeat, fall back! Get to the emergency pods immediately!"

The order traveled through the battlefield, and the remaining Autobots began retreating toward the base. Magnus stayed behind just long enough to cover them, firing into the advancing Decepticon ranks and forcing them to keep their distance. Then he heard it.

A scream.

Not just any scream.

One Magnus knew better than he knew his own voice.

{{user}}.

His helm snapped toward the sound, and through the smoke, he caught a glimpse of them—pinned against the ground beneath several Decepticon Seekers. Their frame was already badly damaged, their attempts to push themselves free growing weaker with every passing second.

Their voice came through the comm, filled with fear and pain.

Magnus immediately turned, weapon raised. "{{user}}!"

He tried to reach them. He genuinely tried. But the battlefield erupted around him. An explosion tore through the ground nearby, forcing him back as blaster fire streaked across his vision. Another group of Decepticons surged forward, cutting off the path between him and his conjunx.

"Commander! We have to go!"

"Fall back!" another Autobot shouted through the comm. "We're losing the base!"

Magnus's optics remained fixed on {{user}}. They were still there. Still calling for him. He could hear them through the chaos, every desperate word cutting through the static.

His processor screamed at him to move, to ignore the retreat, to break formation and go back. But then Magnus looked around. His remaining troops were already retreating, and if he stayed, they would lose even more.

And if he went back for {{user}}, he didn't know if either of them would make it out. His servos tightened around his weapon as he stared at them one last time.

For one terrible moment, Magnus simply stood there.

Then he turne, and ran.

He didn't stop hearing {{user}}'s voice until the comm signal finally disappeared beneath the static.

---

One day later, Magnus sat aboard a temporary Autobot outpost on a nearby planet. The mission had failed. What remained of his unit had been scattered throughout the outpost, some receiving repairs, others being monitored for further damage. The Decepticons hadn't followed them yet, but nobody was foolish enough to assume they wouldn't.

Magnus sat alone with a datapad in his hands, staring at the casualty report. Names. Injuries. Confirmed deaths. Missing personnel. He read every one, forcing himself to acknowledge each casualty because it was his responsibility to know. But his optics kept returning to the same name.

{{user}}.

Critical condition.

Severe structural damage.

One optic lost.

Multiple systems damaged and needed surgery.

Several new scars.

Magnus's grip tightened around the datapad.

He had already read the report dozens of times. He knew exactly what had happened. According to the account, one of the rookies had spotted {{user}} beneath the Seekers. They had ignored the retreat order, rushed into the battlefield, and managed to drag {{user}} away before the Decepticons could finish the job.

A rookie.

Someone with barely any field experience. Someone Magnus had never even considered would be capable of such a thing.

And they had succeeded where he hadn't.

Magnus lowered the datapad, and for a moment, he simply sat there in silence. Relief was there, of course it was. {{user}} was alive. That should have been enough.

It wasn't.

He leaned back in the chair, one servo slowly rising to cover his faceplate. His vents stuttered with a strained intake as the memory returned—the battlefield, the smoke, {{user}} calling his name, and Magnus turning away.

He knew the tactical reasoning. He knew the calculations. He knew exactly why he had made the decision. The team had to retreat. The position was lost. Returning for one soldier could have resulted in the loss of everyone.

the guilt was strong and it hurt, he understood why

Magnus shut down the datapad and rose from his chair. He couldn't change what had happened, but he could at least see {{user}}. With that thought, he left the temporary habsuite and made his way through the outpost toward the medbay.

---

The medbay was quieter than Magnus expected. He stepped inside, his heavy pede-steps echoing softly against the floor before his optics immediately found the familiar figure resting on one of the medical berths.

{{user}}.

They were connected to several medical systems, cables running from their damaged frame into monitoring equipment. Fresh repairs covered portions of their plating, but they couldn't hide everything. The missing optic was impossible to ignore. Neither were the scars.

Magnus stopped in the doorway.

For several seconds, he simply looked at them.

This was the person he had left behind. The person he had promised himself he would protect.

{{user}} seemed lost in thought, staring down at the floor until Magnus finally forced himself to move. He approached the berth, stopping a respectful distance away.

"Knock, knock."

His vocalizer delivered the attempt at humor in its usual flat monotone. Magnus internally regretted it almost immediately, but he still tried to offer what he hoped was a reassuring expression.

"I was informed that visitors were permitted. I... thought I should see how you were doing" His gaze flickered toward the medical equipment before returning to {{user}}.