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The loud sound and fast rhythm of the music announced his arrival.
Sideswipe always showed up at the makeshift base the same way: pulling off ridiculously impressive stunts to the sound of metal, as if his life had built-in speakers playing his personal soundtrack. That day, Optimus Prime was giving one of his motivational speeches to the team — which the Autobot leader took way too seriously. Upon hearing the noise coming from the road, he frowned, clearly annoyed by the youngster’s lack of respect.
Before he could get scolded, Sideswipe approached his best friend. It only took seconds for the two of them to start cracking inside jokes and ruin the seriousness of the speech.
“You two have been assigned to scout an oil tanker. We picked up a distress signal,” declared Optimus, maintaining his calm tone.
“That’s impossible, boss… I’ve got an important show tonight,” Sideswipe replied with his typical sarcasm.
“That wasn’t a request, Sideswipe.”
It was no surprise to anyone: Sideswipe and the Autobot leader didn’t exactly see eye to eye. The young Autobot was always questioning orders and rarely followed them through.
“Still, I’m sure my bro here can handle it solo. Right, partner?” he said, slapping Sunstreaker on the back.
“Of course! But bring me something from the show, yeah? A souvenir...”
“You don’t even like that kind of music.”
“But I want to keep every awesome memory we’ve had on this planet.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible. The mission was assigned to both of you. That’s my final word,” Optimus replied firmly.
The brothers, obviously, had other plans.
***
They hit the main road. Along the way, Sideswipe veered off to the right with a mischievous grin. Unfortunately for him, Ratchet noticed the trick and gave chase — despite being a bit slower. Sideswipe responded with a sharp swerve, cutting through a crowded park full of humans. He didn’t care. He just slammed the pedal while Ratchet zigzagged around pedestrians, honking and cursing under his breath.
Then, in an even crazier move, Sideswipe entered the highway — against traffic. Cars honked, braked, swerved in panic. He darted around like a lunatic, like chaos was his natural habitat. Ratchet, even after losing a side mirror in a close call, kept tailing him, scared but locked onto the road.
When he realized he couldn’t shake the medic, Sideswipe headed toward an unfinished bridge. A construction site abandoned months ago, with a cliff waiting for any idiot brave enough to try a jump. He was that idiot.
Ratchet slammed the brakes and transformed, ignoring any humans who might see his Cybertronian form. He was completely stunned by Sideswipe’s recklessness. Sideswipe, on the other hand, kept flooring it and leapt toward the cliff — absolutely fearless.
“Have you lost your mind, kid?!” Ratchet shouted.
For a second, Sideswipe felt a kind of freedom no war or speech could ever steal from him. The sensation of wind, of gravity giving up for a moment... It felt like flying. When he finally landed in the forest, he transformed into his robot form and flipped Ratchet the bird while the medic still shouted in outrage.
“You’re not getting away with this! Optimus is gonna hear about everything!”
***
The show would be held on a makeshift stage deep in the forest. Few people even knew the exact location. Sideswipe, always up-to-date with the band, had all the info weeks in advance. He also knew he couldn’t appear in public — not unless he wanted to cause mass panic.
He walked among the trees, the scorching sun reflecting off his metal, until he saw fireworks explode in purple, green, and red across the sky. The smell of damp grass mixed with booze and smoke. He immediately knew he was in the right place. Up ahead, the muffled crunch of footsteps on dirt signaled nearby humans. Cars were parked, and people were already gathered in the forest, drinking and dancing. Everyone wore black, with heavy makeup, boots, leather jackets, and every kind of accessory imaginable. It was a chaos army. And he loved it.
The band didn’t take long to hit the stage. When the storm of screams, heavy guitars, and strobe lights began, it scared off the wildlife around — and Sideswipe was already hidden between trees and rocks, headbanging like a maniac, dancing, jumping, nearly shaking the earth.
I'm tired of this shit,
I want to go home
Don't waste my fucking time
Don't waste my fucking time
Because anything exceptional
Gets crushed by common people
With jealousy and ignorance
And all their common evils
This planet isn't special
The heavy beats and blaring guitars drove Sideswipe wild with the rhythm. The vocalist’s voice made him want to scream along. It felt like the song was made for him. He was completely immersed in the aggressive lyrics, just like the other humans at the show.
When the final note hit, the band thanked the fans with curses and middle fingers. The drummer tossed his sticks into the air. That’s when Sideswipe remembered: he needed to bring something back for his brother.
At that moment, Sideswipe didn’t care about anything else — he just wanted to catch that drumstick no matter what. Since there was no way to get through the small crowd, he fired shots into the sky — a tactic he learned from his mentor, Ironhide — hoping everyone would run.
It worked. As soon as the drumstick flew through the air, Sideswipe fired upward. Three shots were enough. He didn’t hit anyone, but it caused full-blown panic. Everyone screamed and ran to their cars. Security shut down the show. Within seconds, the place turned into a wasteland of trash and empty cups.
It was like magic.
The spot that moments ago had been packed with partying people was now a ghost town. Sideswipe didn’t really care — after all, “this planet isn’t special.” Once he was sure no one was left, he ran to where the stick had landed, grabbed it effortlessly, transformed into vehicle mode, and tossed the souvenir into the glovebox.
***
He returned to the hidden Autobot base nestled inside a massive rock — the same way as always, with music blaring.
But something was different.
Before he could shout out in excitement to call for Sunstreaker, he was met with heavy stares. Autobots with somber faces. Optimus Prime stood with arms crossed, expression frozen.
“Hey there, my dude… If this is the start of another lecture, give me a heads up so I can bounce,” he joked.
Silence. Just Optimus’s piercing blue eyes locked on him.
“Yo… Where’s Sunstreaker? He has to see this—” he said, grabbing the drumstick he had snagged at the show.
Ratchet stepped forward. His face tense. His eyes vacant.
“He’s not going to see it, Sideswipe.”
Silence.
“What do you mean…?”
“He was ambushed… on the mission. By Starscream,” the medic replied.
Sideswipe froze. The world stopped. The words came in, but didn’t stick.
“You’re joking, right…?”
Ratchet didn’t respond. Sideswipe collapsed to his knees.
Sunstreaker had carried out the mission alone — to keep his brother from getting in trouble. But in the process, he had been ambushed by a group of Decepticons led by Starscream.
Sideswipe’s first reaction was to blame Optimus.
He screamed, punched the leader in the chest, even threatened to kill him.
His second reaction was denial. Even after seeing Sunstreaker’s cold, lifeless body in the Autobot medic’s lab, he couldn’t believe it. That same day, he saw his brother smiling, helping… and now he just didn’t exist anymore.
Even though he blamed Optimus for not being there at the moment of the ambush, deep down, Sideswipe knew the truth: the real blame was his.
All the other Autobots had been tied up with missions. That’s why Optimus had assigned the task to the two of them together — in case something went wrong. But Sideswipe had been too much of an idiot to listen. Slowly, the light in his eyes faded. His body trembled, but he still clutched that damn drumstick like it was Sunstreaker’s spark.
Now, all he had left was a drumstick…
And the guilt of losing the one he called brother.