The second memory was nearly as disorienting as the first. Dom's actions again, through the eyes of someone else, and even Basilio didn't have a shred of compassion for him.
He'd put his team at risk, yes, but he knew them. Dom trusted them as much as he ever trusted anyone and if anyone could make this through it all, it was them. He didn't say it, wouldn't ever, but he put his faith in their skills, their ability to adapt and survive, and they hadn't proved him wrong.
They'd proved him right.
There was no remorse for angering Eames (and he was fairly confident it was Eames, it felt like his mind and his voice, not Arthur's). The other man's ire was nothing in comparison to the repercussions from the first time he'd performed Inception. If a little of his ire was all that Dom earned, he'd take it and be glad of it.
He took a deep breath and as suddenly as the memories had started, they were done. Sitting up slowly, Basilio rubbed his head. He never thought he'd say it, but the man inside his head was cold.