"I'm not crying." It's not even spoken in anger. He's... exhausted. Mournful, maybe. Rung told him it was normal. Why shouldn't it be? But Ultra Magnus has never really dealt with this sort of thing normally.

But he considers the suggestion.

"I didn't know Tailgate enough to discuss his achievements. I know that he had more skills than one would predict at first glance. Hound was quite possibly more overlooked in his skills and reliability than most, but he never complained. Not a bit. Rodimus..."

There, he stops. He looks down at his own plating, how melted and off that it is. Worn and raw and aching.

"I can't." He shakes his head. "So. To those who died, and those left with the consequences."

There, Magnus focuses on his second cube, eager to finish it.