Not only is Khan's agitation hazardous to Julian's continued health, it's harmful to his own. There's sweat beading at his hairline, on his neck, even as he rounds, suddenly, on the doctor. "Save your apologies," he growls, but the effect is somewhat less intimidating when he's gone paler than a sheet.

Still. He doesn't need anyone's pity. What he needs is information. A new mission. If Section 31 still exists in this time, then their destruction is a worthy enough goal.

He steps back from the doctor, allowing him some space in the confines of the lift. "You mentioned a simulation. What use could they possible have for you?"