Maybe it is the Allspeak, or maybe Thor's mind is more broken than he'd thought, but he does not understand half of what she is talking about. He still listens, though, and tries to take it in, absently picking at the omelette which is getting cold on his plate. It is probably delicious but he can barely taste it, as if he cannot even allow himself to enjoy food anymore. Still, he's eating, and that is more than he had been doing when Harley arrived.

"I don't know what I want," he admits after a long moment, pushing little bites of egg around his plate with the slightly-crumpled fork. Aside from another drink. "I don't... there's no way to fix this."

He'd hoped. He'd really, really hoped that there would still be a way. That they could use the Stones to reverse the culling, and at least bring back half the universe, even if there was no hope for the murdered Asgardians. For Loki, and Heimdall, and a thousand others. He had staked it all on that hope, and it all came crashing down on him.