Ratchet stares at him for a moment, unable to force the words Drift is saying into any kind of intelligible order.

"I'm sorry, what? You--" He scoffs a laugh, his optics pale. "You're telling me that you threw away everything you've worked for since New Crystal City--your command, your friends, your life--and you did it, what, voluntarily? It was your idea? Go on, tell me another."