Late night.
Zhang Xiaowen lay asleep, occasionally frowning or muttering fragmented dreams. Mofang sat on the windowsill, gazing at the dark city beneath the stars. Faint lights flickered in distant high-rises—survivors scavenging in the shadows.
Retrieving a laptop, Mofang opened a music app and selected soothing instrumental tracks. Xiaowen's restless movements stilled, her brow smoothing. *Music… strange how it calms even now.* The melodies swirled as Mofang pondered. It could've waited idly for its interstellar warship to retrieve it. Earthlings meant nothing to a machine of alien origin. Yet here it was, saving lives—no logic, just choice. *Maybe I'm not so cold after all…*
———
Early morning. Another clear day.
Xiaowen stretched awake, clutching her stuffed rabbit. Her nose twitched at the scent of fried eggs wafting from the kitchen. "Mofang! Were you a kitchen robot before? A rice cooker? Microwave?!"
*Clang!* The spatula nearly slipped from Mofang's grip. Smoke curled from overheated joints as it glared at the sizzling pan. *Cooking for this human… and this is my thanks?*
"Fool! I'm a Decepticon! Here to conquer Earth for Cybertron!" *Wham!* Four eggs slammed onto a plate. A spoon clattered beside them as Mofang bashed the pan against its own head.
*Clang! Clang! Clang!*
"Wow~ Do all Transformers exercise like this?" Xiaowen mumbled through toothpaste foam. "Why's your head smoking? Circuit overload?"
"Mofang, stop denting the wall! The tiles are cracking!"
"Mofang…"
"...…"
Mofang decided silence was wiser.
After breakfast, their escape plan began. The longer they stayed in this densely packed city, the deadlier it became.
First task: get Xiaowen out. To Mofang's shock, she held a Class B driver's license. "The driving school only had truck classes back then," she shrugged. "Somehow I passed!"
Mofang stared.
"Why're you looking at me? I washed my face!"
"How much truck experience do you *actually* have? I'd prefer not to fish this rig out of a river."
"Just… driving school? After that, I rode an e-bike. Couldn't afford a real car…"
*Any driver's better than none,* Mofang resigned, plotting their route. Its 30cm frame couldn't operate pedals. *Upgrade sooner, grow bigger—crush problems literally.*
The rooftops offered a path. Buildings stood close, cables and lines bridging gaps. "This 1.36-meter jump is nothing for your enhanced physique," Mofang insisted. Xiaowen sat trembling in combat gear, her backpack's opening revealing a bunny ear.
"What if I fall…?"
"Four meters would be easy for you. Watch." Mofang backtracked, wheels whirring as it sprinted and leaped—mechanical limbs mimicking Olympic precision. Landing smoothly, it skated back on wheeled feet. "See? Simple."
Xiaowen peeked over the edge. Zombies writhed in the alley below.
*Time for motivation.* Mofang projected a holographic zombie behind her—a snarling, photorealistic illusion.
"Ahhh! Zombie!!" Xiaowen launched into a sprint, screaming as she cleared the gap like an Olympian.
"Where?! I'll stab it!" She brandished her short sword, panting.
"Fell down. Let's move." Mofang led on, hiding a smirk. *Progress.*