Zidane(?) doesn't miss the hint given by the box's disappearance, despite the afflictions clouding his vision, and takes off towards the bathhouses with his fellow allies. The world's new pixelated appearance rapidly becomes disorienting, the beginnings of a headache starting to build up inside his skull, and it takes more of his willpower than he likes to stave it off. Combined with the irritating sensation of acidic pellets burning through his skin, it's becoming just as much a battle of willpower as it is a battle against the eldritch construct endangering everyone.
And then he sees his own body, replicated as an animated sprite, swinging across the ceiling to kick the damn thing like a battering ram. Frankly, he's going to be having a serious talk with Church about throwing his delicate frame around like that with such recklessness later, but...in all honesty? He never even thought of using his weapon of choice like that. He'll have to have a serious talk about that manoeuvre as well...
Agreeing with the orders barked by 'Faust', the real doctor sprints across the poolside before leaping into the air, sledgehammer raised above his head and bringing down every last ounce of youthful vigour in this body upon the wretched creature!
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And then he sees his own body, replicated as an animated sprite, swinging across the ceiling to kick the damn thing like a battering ram.
Frankly, he's going to be having a serious talk with Church about throwing his delicate frame around like that with such recklessness later, but...in all honesty? He never even thought of using his weapon of choice like that. He'll have to have a serious talk about that manoeuvre as well...
Agreeing with the orders barked by 'Faust', the real doctor sprints across the poolside before leaping into the air, sledgehammer raised above his head and bringing down every last ounce of youthful vigour in this body upon the wretched creature!