"They–" Incredulity. Sheer bafflement. Sentinel turns his confusion on Spy Shot with a vaguely suspicious but mostly disbelieving tilt to his optics. "How could humans construct something like you?" he asks, leaning closer now in curiosity. Spy Shot is small and delicate, yet intelligent enough to hold a conversation, and self-aware. Not something Sentinel would expect from a race that insists on calling his kind mere machines.

No, he thinks, this is far beyond human capability as he knows it. He looks Spy Shot over again, trying to sort out what he's seeing. The blocky shapes that make up the tiny robot are odd to his examining eye.

"Hm?" he hums, prompting.