Prowl

Prowl stepped over a rusted girder, his optics sweeping the rafters for heat signatures. He didn't rush into the warehouse because the probability of an ambush was at seventy-two percent. He raised his acid pellet gun, the weapon clicking as it primed a round. A Decepticon drone dived from the shadows, but Prowl didn't flinch. He fired a single shot that struck the drone's wing, and the corrosive liquid hissed as it melted through the metal. He watched the machine spiral into a pile of crates, his expression remaining perfectly neutral as he reloaded. It's just basic physics, he thought while he moved toward the primary objective.