"It would be less traumatic for our brother if North lived-" Like discussing the weather or sports scores. That same drawl, a serene little lilt not entirely unlike the counselor as The Meta stalks forward. The shield might hold up against a fist, against his gun- but it glows in his palm and the power North held skitters under his skin, buzzing like fireflies.

He's missed the failsafe of the domeshield. Good to have it back.

The shield fails. The Meta? Continues to stalk forward, a shield flaring to life around North, himself, and Felix, rippling and flaring the same glimmering orange as Sigma. Nowhere for him to run now. "But no."

Sigma crosses his arms, grinning. "Sic'em."