"You didn't get the message?" Aftermath tilts his head curiously. "Cybertron called out to us, sent us a message to return home. I did not heed it myself, but some of my contacts did. The news they relayed to me was... unexpected."

Shifting his weight onto his good knee for the time being, the grey mech pulls out a datapad, flips it on and searches through it for some of the images that had been transmitted to him. He gestures at Roller to come closer once he finds them, tilting the screen to show photos of a very alien looking Cybertron.

"Four million years of war and suddenly this. No one knows why or how, but we know the wilds don't particularly like people."