"That is what I said," Rampage snaps. He stares down at his own spark, pulsing malignantly in his chest. Not for the first time, he's struck with the urge to reach in and quench it within his fist. He's seen normal sparks before. Held them in his hands, squeezed them until they burst, tasted them as they burned down his throat... His is not normal. It's an aberration, and just looking at it makes his innards twist with disgust.

His chest plates snap shut again, shutting out that sickly light. He wonders if the human can sense the wrongness of it, like he's certain any Cybertronian would. Perhaps not. Maybe it's only something someone with a spark of their own can tell.

"No spark," he says, "So you're as blank to me as that dead nitro-deer."