Devero wouldn't call himself a strong fighter, but he stalks after the fallen Helpmate and dispatches it with a steel pipe through the head with perfect competency despite that.

He grunts as he stands up, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth as if he's tasted something unpleasant. "Wish there was some kind of way we could-- turn them off or something. Hate doing that."

Guess who hasn't figured out the panels yet!