Chapter Text
The hum of old fluorescent lights buzzed above you, their flicker casting brief shadows across your makeshift desk at the edge of the classified government outpost. A half-empty energy drink sat sweating beside a tangle of audio cables and your trusty laptop, its screen displaying waveforms dancing in irregular patterns.
Most agents would’ve passed this off as background noise—random static left over from Decepticon transmissions. But not you.
You leaned closer, brow furrowed, eyes narrowed. There it was again a pulse of signal in the same range as Decepticon comms, but not quite. It repeated, like a heartbeat. Deliberate. Timed. Not standard Decepticon encryption. This was... different.
“Agent [Y/N],” came Agent Fowler’s gravelly voice from behind you. “Tell me you’re not chasing ghost signals again.”
You didn’t even turn to face him. “This one’s not a ghost. Look at the pattern. It’s not broadcasting like a command it’s… echoing.”
Fowler sighed, stepping around to peer over your shoulder. “You think it’s a message?”
“No,” you murmured. “I think it’s a presence.”
He frowned. “You’re starting to sound like Ratchet.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
With a few more keystrokes, you adjusted the gain and amplified the signal. The pattern emerged clearly now: a rhythmic pulse embedded with noise. But then, just for a moment, a flash an embedded code in the background static. One you had seen once before. You froze.
“It’s Soundwave,” you said, voice soft.
Fowler stiffened. “You’re sure?”
“He’s not attacking. Not intercepting Autobot channels. He’s just... broadcasting. In the open.”
“That doesn’t sound like him,” Fowler said slowly. “Soundwave doesn’t do anything unless it serves Megatron. If he’s pinging in the open, it’s bait. Stay away from it.”
But the frequency was already burned into your mind.
Two nights later, you stood alone on the rocky cliffs of Nevada’s outskirts, a short-range receiver strapped to your backpack and your heart pounding against your ribcage.
The desert was quiet eerily so. Wind tugged at your jacket, and the sun had long since dipped below the jagged hills. You hadn’t told Fowler you were coming. The Autobots were out on patrol. This was your risk.
The signal had grown stronger out here, clearer. You turned slowly, holding a custom-modified radar dish. As you adjusted the frequency… it stopped.
Your breath caught. You lowered the dish.
Then, a low vibration rolled beneath your feet. The ground trembled.
Something was here.
You turned—and saw nothing.
Until the shadows shifted.
A towering figure emerged silently from the darkened ridgeline. Smooth, dark plating glinting in the moonlight, his visor glowing a soft, pulsating blue. No footsteps. No words. Just presence.
Soundwave.
You froze, your entire body taut. This close, you should’ve been terrified. You weren’t armed. You weren’t a threat.
Yet he didn’t attack.
Soundwave simply watched.
You slowly lowered the radar dish, heart hammering against your ribs. “Why are you here?” you whispered.
No response. No voice.
But then, something moved—his shoulder panel opened, projecting a brief flash of static on a hollow screen. The same pulse you saw before. The same rhythm. A signature.
You took a slow step forward. “You’ve been broadcasting… to me?”
The screen flickered. Another brief signal. This time, it almost felt like… acknowledgment.
“I don’t understand.” You stepped closer. “You’re Decepticon. I should be your enemy.”
He tilted his helm slightly, visor shifting as if scanning you. Still silent.
Then another image blinked to life on his screen: your own frequency log, the very one you’d used to trace him.
You gasped.
“You’ve been… watching me?”
No movement.
Only that same signal, pulsing. This close, it wasn’t just sound anymore. It had depth. Layers. Like emotion embedded in code.
Caution. Curiosity.
Loneliness.
You realized then: this wasn’t an ambush. This was something else. Something alien… but almost human.
You lowered your voice. “You’re not here for war.”
The signal stopped.
Silence stretched between you.
And then, with barely a sound, Soundwave turned away.
You stepped forward instinctively. “Wait! Will I see you again?”
He paused, half-turned, his blue visor flickering faintly.
A short pulse echoed in your receiver a whisper of static, like a breath caught on the wind.
Then he was gone.
Vanished into the desert.
Back at base, you sat in your quarters replaying the signal over and over. Your hands trembled as you ran it through your translator.
The meaning was fragmented. Glitchy.
But one word came through repeating faintly.
“Observe.”
It wasn’t a warning.
It was a promise.