Bobo held tight to the handle in case he lost control again, figuring he might have enough to fight it if this guy was trying to keep control. They'd see.

He smirks as he continues to put it together, thinking about the things Bobo has confessed to and what it could mean. He chuckles at the questions.

"I was born and died then. That isn't what year it was when I got here. It was over a century later. Twenty sixteen," he says, shrugging. "Hence the weapons. I am betting your mind is going to keep spinning, to let me clear it up. It is a curse. Simple as that."

Nothing that was simple. Not at all.