Questioning the legitimacy of his spirituality shouldn't bother Drift by now. Just about everyone does, except for Rodimus. And it isn't really that that gets to him, even if he grits his teeth and neatly sidesteps into the lift to get Megatron out of his personal space bubble. Treating his Greatsword like some trinket, though, when it had been bought with someone else's death... Megatron's opinion shouldn't have an effect on him. Drift's no longer a Decepticon. But he still finds it hard to recollect his cool.

"It isn't some phase, Megatron. It's a way of life." That's what he's trying to make of it, anyway. Spiritual panacea for your poor, aching spark -- it hits closer to home than Drift was really prepared for, and it shows on his face for just a moment, a mere flicker of expression. "If you'd seen what I did at Vector Sigma, then you'd understand. But I don't expect you to. I don't need you to -- I know I'm on the right path."