While everyone else sorts themselves out and Loki makes mildly amusing quips, Tony stands staring down at the robots. He feels wrung out, raw and hypersensitive, a little like skin left too long exposed in the sun. It’s not a wholly pleasant sensation, but it’s a new one, and much as he wishes that he could do it again, he knows that he can’t. For one moment, he was connected to something so much greater than himself, and he wants to jack himself back into it, feel alive in a way he doubts he’ll ever feel again.

But he knows he’s going to try to find it. Maybe he’ll spend all of his life searching, experimenting with technology far too advanced for most people to comprehend. And he’ll either reach that pinnacle again or die trying. Life’s certainly been lost in the pursuit of less.

“All of it.” He sounds a little scratchy to his own ears, so he clears his throat and licks his lips before trying again. “I want all of it.” Never mind that time is of the essence and that it’s dangerous out here. They can leave him behind for all he cares. But right here is the solution to his problem. Enough metal that, with a considerable amount of time, he could reshape and rebuild into a version of his own suit.

Turning, he looks at each of them in turn. Loki pinned the power on him; whether or not that’s believed by the others, Tony won’t give the lie away. But he wants to talk to him, and as he glances over them, he lets his eyes linger on Loki for a split second longer than the rest, hoping that he reads that desire to talk in his expression. But to them all, with casual nonchalance, he asks, “Think you guys can help me drag it back?”