If Tarn wanted to hit a sore point, that was it. Rodimus practically jumps from his seat, hands curling into fists as he stares Tarn down. The very small part of his mind that sounded an awful lot like Ultra Magnus was telling him to think, but he's past caring. Not when it's about Drift.

"Like hell you are!"

Take one more step, Tarn. He dares you.