It's a deafening silence that seems to stretch on, and while Bruce hasn't been down in the engine room before, even he feels a hint of discomfort at the complete lack of noise. Almost as if he can hear some sort of background countdown to when vital functions will start going down, one area of the ship at a time.

"Right." There's that, and he knows it's something, but much like it's the case with her, it's barely enough to make him feel any better. The wound is too raw right now anyway, thinking or talking about it makes him feel like he's rubbing salt on it. Maybe someday, who knows, he will be able to cope with what he did.

There will always be the scar, the memory of it all. The cold hard reminder that there's a void in the universe because of him. But that's something to think about when he gets to that point.

"If only we could know we could have helped, and that they'd let us leave afterwards." The people in Caducus Primary seemed generally peaceful and with a strange kind of calm, but in Bruce's experience, people often want retribution. Justice. While he gets that, he wouldn't have wanted the innocent on board the Moira to be locked up for something he did, and he also doesn't think that the survivors from Caducus Primary would have been capable of building a cage strong enough to contain the Hulk. "But I get that. I wish that we could have done more too. Something... anything to help."