Divinity (Transformers x FEM/OC)

This chapter takes place weeks after the Epilogue but months later for Sierra and the Autobots...strap in readers!

Section Two: Chapter Thirteen - Sierra Coal

I shifted in my seat as the light turned red. My motorcycle leathers clung to my skin in the oppressive Chicago heat. I turned down the engine, nodding my head enthusiastically to the music blasting through my helmet. Singing along wasn't optional—it was mandatory:

Oh, I wanna dance with somebody, I wanna feel the heat with somebody!

The light flicked to green, and I revved the handle, kicking off the ground and speeding forward. The towering buildings of downtown blurred past as I veered into the N.E.S.T. headquarters, pulling to a stop at the security entrance. The music clicked off as I removed my helmet, taking a second to inhale the heavy, humid air.

An armed soldier held up his hand, motioning for my ID. I fished it from my chest pocket and handed it over. The barrier rose with a metallic groan, and I gave him a quick nod of thanks before continuing down the blocked roadway.

The last few weeks had been a whirlwind. Egypt already felt like a distant memory—a sun-soaked blur of battle, loss, and unexpected revelations. Optimus and I had returned under orders, leading the team to Chicago for our next assignment. The main priority? Finding an Energon deposit before supplies ran dangerously low. No Energon, no Autobots. No Autobots, no hope.

But it wasn't just the mission weighing on me. I'd left behind Richard, Eliza, and...most of my stuff. My apartment back in the Upper East Side was practically a hollow shell now, empty save for a bed, a TV, and a couch. Not that I'd had much time to be there lately.

Then there was Optimus.

We hadn't told the others about our... relationship—if you could call it that. "Comfortable" felt like a better word. We'd grown closer in the quiet moments after battles, learning to navigate a connection that felt at once natural and impossible. But in a city like Chicago, "quiet moments" were in short supply. Every glance, every touch, came with the weight of a thousand watching eyes.

I pulled into the bay and parked, removing my gloves and tossing them onto a nearby table. As I shrugged out of my jacket, I heard a familiar voice behind me.

"You're in late."

The sound sent a shiver down my spine. I turned to see Optimus, his imposing frame softened by the faintest trace of a smile. That smug, knowing smile.

"Traffic," I replied with a shrug, trying to play it cool as I tugged off my jacket and adjusted the tank top beneath.

He didn't reply, but his gaze lingered for a moment before he turned back toward the others. My chest tightened, a cocktail of warmth and frustration bubbling inside me. It was always like this: the quiet acknowledgment, the unspoken connection. I sighed, tying my hair into a ponytail.

     I'm tired of this same drill, repeating this every day. Unfortunately, after the last few months, my body began to feel more...old. In the femme I felt young, strong and almost immortal. But in this one...I can feel this body dying all around me. The worst part about it is I have no idea what to do about it.

Dr. Micali waved me over, practically glowing with excitement. He'd been over the moon about leaving Egypt, where sand seemed to infiltrate everything, and was eager to dive back into the Numen project. I settled into the pod beside him, trying to ignore his mischievous grin.

"Late night?" he asked casually.

I glanced down, trying to hide the flush creeping up my cheeks. Images of Optimus flashed through my mind. "Nah," I mumbled.