The daycare shattered into chaos as Eclipse lunged, pinned seconds later by Sun. Sparks hissed from his joints while his optics glitched between orange and a predatory red. A second pair of mechanical arms deployed from his torso with a metallic screech, clawing at the air as corrupted threat-warnings flooded his system. “BACK AWAY!” Eclipse’s voice roared through static. “THREAT DETECTED!” Terrified parents scrambled to shield their children as Moon rushed in, freezing at the sight of the struggle. Moon: “Sun, what happened?!” Sun: (Straining) “His threat-detection looped! He thinks a parent is a target!” Eclipse snarled, a violent red pulse bathing his faceplate. Sun looked at Moon with sudden realization. Sun: “Moon, remember how we snapped him out of this at 3:00 AM? With... affection? A kiss?” Moon stared in disbelief. “The time he wouldn't stop clinging to us for six hours?” Eclipse’s head snapped toward Moon, his red eyes flickering orange for a split second. “MOON—DANGER—STAY BACK—” Sun: “Yeah. Definitely the same malfunction.”