"I think I bruised my hip on impact. It's just a little sore," he says, shaking one leg free of metal plating, then the other. With no small amount of effort, he pushes himself up and out of the suit, and ends up on his side in the grass, near where Coulson is crouched.

The small pile of 'scraps' is pretty impressive, disassembled as it is, like some robot skeleton abandoned.

"How've you been," he asks, looking up. "How's the back?"