Proud's focus returns - to a gun against his head.

Icy pang. He narrows his eyes, emits a hiss through his nose, and - there's a deep, plummeting pulsing sensation.

At the same moment that pang repeats, rides the ripple of an Echo and soars high, slicing, and seizing in his mind, a very different ripple pulses out from that machine hooked up in his chest, and he laughs.

Dry but unconscious, erratic, and constant, unpredicted and stop it, not now!

The snakes are on the move, most definitely - not even a hint of buzzing quite yet, but relatively soon.