Gerome was quiet for a long moment, just staring at Inigo, is expression unreadable.

When he spoke, his voice was low, though not so low Inigo wouldn't hear him.

"... Unsettling." He corrected. "Not unique. Unsettling." Because no, he wasn't doing well and he knew that. It was one thing to travel to the past. But this felt like travelling thousands of years into the future. A strange and alien future he wasn't prepared for. At least in their past there had been familiar things. There was very little that was familiar now. Not even the clothes he wore.