Oh, don't get him wrong: Tucker was forever lost. But, on the plus side, he wasn't aware of it, or at least, didn't give enough of a shit about it to worry one way or another. All of that talk was way too big for him, overarching and way deeper that he was willing to jump into. Chosen One? Cool. Was it a scam? A bit, but what a lady-catching title. Was he able to keep people safe? Added bonus.

"I'm sick of being chosen for shit." He rolled his eyes, huffing a little. "Everything is just being picked for this, picked for that, having to fight in this war and the next one and the fucking next one. Kinda over it anymore."

You know what that's like, Drift?

"So, like, is everyone a robot?" Yes, Tucker. Or, well, you know, made of metal. God, why do you think it's okay to ask these questions? "Do you have metal pets and shit?"