Chapter Text
In the year 2050, the city of Detroit is the hub for technology. Everywhere you look you see robots, groundbreaking tech, and all manner of technological marvels.
Now, Detroit wasn't always like that. 50-odd years ago, a simple man named Isaac Sumdac discovered something. What that something was, well most folks had no idea. . . that is until that something raised its ugly head and tried to level the city.
Yes, I mean Megatron.
But, regardless, Sumdac found the battered remains of the Decepticon warmonger, and reverse-engineered his cybernetic body to create the robotic utopia we know and love today. Now, aside from the robots, there are also another kind of robot.
The living kind.
The Autobots. Crashed into Lake Eerie the same day Sumdac discovered Megatron's head, the Autobots lay dormant for half a century, before eventually waking up. . .only to wake and be thrown headlong into the action. Led by a demoted, younger bot, named Optimus Prime, the Autobots strive to protect and learn from the humans that they are living with. Sari Sumdac, Issac's daughter, being one of them.
And that is where our story begins.
It was a hot summer day in Detroit. The type of heat that was suffocating in every possible way. The type that you could not escape from. Everyone was doing what they could to stay cool and clear of the harsh sun's rays. Most people either swinging in local pools, or just lounging on furniture with the AC set to freezing.
The Autobots, unfortunately, weren't fairing much better. In an abandoned compound, they had turned into their home; Ratchet, Prowl, Bumblebee and Bulkhead, along with Sari, were just trying to escape the suffocating heat. Sari lay on the concrete floor, idly watching the tv, while a plug-in fan blew a pathetic amount of air down on her face. Bee was in no better condition, also watching the tv, and moaning about how hot it was.
"Why is weather a thing on this planet?" he bemoaned, covering his helm with his servos, "ugh, my circuits are gonna fry!"
"You know as well as I do it takes more than a hot summer day to fry your circuits." Prowl quipped from his spot overhead in the rafters. The CyberNinja in training was trying to do some meditation, but was failing. Partly because--yes--the heat was making him irritable, but also Bee's constant complaining was tweaking his last nerve.
"Tell that to my melting chassis, Prowl!" Bee spat back sassily, glaring up at the ninja bot from his spot on the concrete-made bench.
"Oh, save it you too." Ratchet groused from his work bench.
The epitome of the phrase 'I'm too old for this' Ratchet, a battlefield medic from the Great War, was a hardened warrior in his own right. An aged bot, with a hard exterior, but a soft spot for the members of the team. A brilliant doctor, and a good source of wisdom and council for the younger bots.
"The heat is making us all a bit loopy, so save your prattle before I wind up having to repair the both of you!" Ratchet continued, before he hunched back over his work bench, using some kind of tool.
Bee gave an irritated grumble and rolled over, sliding comically off the bench and onto the floor, "Sari, how long will this last?" he asked.
"Don't ask me to predict the weather, Bee," Sari said as she drink from her water bottle, "No one can predict the weather. No one."
Bee was about to offer a retort when a familiar sound of an engine reached his Audios.
Optimus Prime, in his vehicle form--a red, black and blue fire truck--rumbled in. He came to a halt, then transformed, revealing his tall and impressive stature. A bit of a young blood, rough around the edges, but with a good spark, and the building blocks of a leader in the making,
"I see we've all been productive today." Optimus commented sarcastically, an optical ridge arched in bemusement.
Bee lifted his head for a moment, "How are you even functioning in this heat?" He huffed begrudgingly.
Optimus put his servos on his hips, "This planet is our home now, Bumblebee, it's important we learn to adapt to all of what earth has to offer?"
"Even if it's circuit-melting, chassis-scorching misery?" Bee gave him such an annoyed look.
Optimus chuckled good-naturedly and walked past them, making his way to the monitors. Bulkhead--the largest of the group--looked up from his current art project, "No Con sightings?"
"Not a one." Optimus said as he began punching some codes into the computer, "Maybe the heat is effecting the cons as badly as it is us."
"We're never that lucky, Kid." Ratchet called her his shoulder.
Optimus scoffed as he continued working, logging in his findings into the computer, and scanning local news outlets for any videos, or articles that may relate to the Decepticons.
All seemed quiet, even Bee's complaining and lulled off--thankfully.
All seemed at peace. . . least until the alarm started to go off.
Bee's bitching and complaining started right up after that.
Oh well.