"Good?" Wing thinks back to his last conversation with Megatron, and what the Decepticon leader had left with him. "He might have yes. A product of our society, the way we all were in our own unique ways."

Wing raises a hand off Drift's helm, fingers outstretched towards a few yellow points of light as they flutter over the two mechs.

"Even in his last moments you think? When he knows death is a fate he has to abide by?" Wing wonders, because it's true that it's hard for him to judge. It always had been. Which is why he favors Drift's perspective so much.