"Curious." Sentinel's optics flicker in thought. He wonders what criteria exactly determine the ones brought as he was, if there are indeed more than himself and this other… lesser Sentinel Prime. It doesn't seem a question the other can answer, however. He shunts the matter back to a subprocessor and refocuses on the immediate issue, turning a critical eye on his newfound companion. "And are they all in a similar state?" he wonders, pointedly taking in other-Sentinel's shabby and beaten condition. "The war has come with us?"

His flat tone and calm expression never waver. Internally, he boils with rage that he was so close and now he is… wherever this is. This run-down, rusted out Cybertron. This sad world that is not his.