Overboost followed the autobot patrol though the barren wastes that had become the vast majority of Cybertron's scenery. He hated it. Being forced to crawl around as a rat dragging along a high powered bike, Road Gator it was called, for fear of being discovered; having to see his homeworld which he had never really appreciated reduced to a smoldering wreck; being a strange mutant to his own people because of a single madman; having been forced into a war he never wanted any part of in the first place. He was tired of it all. 

He also hated the fact that he couldn't, wouldn't take the easy way out. A suicide charge into Decepticon territory, offlining as many of them as he could before his own spark was extinguished. There would have been a certain satisfaction in that, but Overboost wouldn't take it, even if he fought recklessly. He had signed up with the Autobots of his own free will and he had become a soldier for their cause. Not entirely willingly, but he would see the war through to its end, and for that he needed to live. To live and to find a leader he could follow.

Still, he was sick and tired of playing it safe. Of being scared and defenseless and duped. He wasn't Impulse anymore, he was Overboost, and even if he was a freak, he was a powerful one. No one gave the Dynobots or the Wreckers any scrap for not being subtle. Climbing on top of Road Gator felt natural, the roar of its engines gave him a primal sense of satisfaction as he roared down the most dangerous and unstable spots of the cybertronian wilderness, so akin to miniature Rust Spots. If anyone wanted to track him down or keep those areas locked down they were in for one hellish job, facing down a collection of hazards including active storms that disrupted communications and surveillance equipment.

Engines roaring, he ground to a stop at a safe distance away from what he assumed was the entrance to the Autobot hideout. "WHO IS YOUR LEADER?" his voice boomed in the empty wastelands.