The Sentinels caves

As the woman shared more of her experience, Ford listened without a single change in his facial features. The hollow glint of his gaze was latched to her, drinking in everything that she was willing to share. His brow was just furrowed enough to express a modicum of interest, but not enough to give away any of his thoughts or feelings on the matters that she discussed with him. The means of taking someone down that she was familiar with seemed so foreign to him. She would have been appalled by the bloodshed and violent gore that took place in Warsaw. It seemed as though her culture had adopted a very precise means of taking down their enemies.
 
“Seems simple enough. It is remarkable to have found such a clever way to dispose of your enemy. Who started this tradition?” the titan inquired, canting his skull only a few inches to the right. He had saved her mentioning of an honorable burial for later questions. It was something else that did not make sense to him. There was no honor in death. He had killed enough to know that the bodies he’d left behind cared very little if they were treated well once their souls had fled.