"Now Theta-" drawling without the accent, hands tucked behind his holographic back in an echo of their donor's posture, Sigma shakes his head. "You really shouldn't have done that. Now we'll have to do this the hard way."

The Meta drops North's helmet and reaches out into the air between them, fingers slowly curling into a fist- tips catching on and dragging something that gathers in his palm as a ball of glowing blue light similar to the shield bubble. Between the points of his fingers and North's shield the air begins to bend and waver like a heatwave in a flickering straight vector that solidifies for half a second before there's a shift and click. Like a joint popping in place, air pressure dropping before the storm, the wavering scent of ozone.

"It's remarkable that he can do this on his own. Even more remarkable you were able to talk him out of listening to Felix. We're proud of your reaction time- or. We would be if it didn't mean that the hard way?" Sigma's voice coils low and insidious as the power drain causes a faint flicker in the shield, something like a dragging fatigue settling over their target. "Means that we will have to hurt North very, very badly to collect you."