"There are a lot of non-targets," Krok gently reminds Spinister. "And no war here. Or at least I don't want the Autobots to be able to say we started anything." He stops in front of the door that is Spinister's by assignment and smiles, optics bright, hands folded expectantly at his back.

It amazes him sometimes, what he finds pleasure in any more.

"Here we are," he says. "Go on… take a look."