When the first group of time travelers pours through the portal, there's an Autobot among them. She stands at about ten feet tall -- not very big for a Cybertronian, but her presence is tremendous, a gravity to it that seems to come from eons of accumulated wisdom. Her plating, black and blue streaked with silver, tinged with pink in places, is reminiscent of battle armor, an impression only enforced by the giant hammer strapped to her back. Any Cybertronian would recognize it as the Forge of Solus Prime.

She steps away from the portal with slow, measured steps, glancing around at the commotion surrounding their arrival -- not at all a surprise, but she carefully steps out of the way of any human passersby, not wanting to risk harming anyone, but it's pretty clear from the way she moves that she, like the others, are coming here with a purpose.

"There's no need to panic," she assures the crowd in level tones. Her voice carries the same kind of gravity as her presence, one that seems to resonate through the air around her. "We're here to help."