--ag's going on?

[The video crackles to life, a Cybertronian that looks new - although with how he feels he'd argue that. This all feels familiar, almost looks it, but he can't place any of it. Really all that does is dwindle his patience, and prod at his anger level.]

I don't remember this being-

[He rubs his head, optics dimming. Confused, disoriented and irritable, not a good combination. Slag finally turns his attention to the communicator. For some reason he remembers that. Somehow. And a few other fuzzy things, but there is something there, swarming around in his processor.]

...What the frag happened?! I don't- Pit! This feels familiar.

Swoop! Snarl! Sludge! ...Ironhide? Anyone on this frequency? I want some fraggin' answers now!

[Camera's on Kevin, scrawny and lanky eleven year old boy, and behind him is the backdrop of the Wastelands. He talks into the communicator as he walks toward the Haven, his face caught between anger and shell shock. He's having trouble hiding how unnerved he is right now.]

What happened? What day is it?

...Anyway, nobody better have touched my stuff.