The warlord hadn't gotten much farther than where he'd been when he'd attempted to halt the man from making contact with the warsat. His shoulders hunched as though seized up in mid-cringe, he brought a shaky hand against his helmeted face. Those memories were amongst some of his oldest, and although it wasn't something he felt he could ever forget, it seemed to bloom afresh, like it had just happened yesterday.

He forced himself to relax, as much as he ever was able to, anyway. His head lifted towards Stark, and finally he continued forward, although almost hesitantly now, as though he half expected the warsat to try and conduct a repeat of what they'd just seen.

"...I still have no clear answers," he admitted quietly, his voice sounding somewhat more hollow than usual. He stopped beside the massive construct, looking towards the insignia there. "Do Warminds exist in your time, Stark?"