Daryl feels the crackle of energy shoot through his spine; it feels like when he touched an exposed livewire when he was seven, except it's right through his whole being. He goes limp and crashes into the ground, a twitching mess, then goes still.

He can't run. He can barely move. All his limbs feel completely fried. He trashes ineffectually against the guards carrying him toward the observation table, but he knows it's no use. It's more for his pride than anything else.

"Ain't done me no harm, huh?" He looks Diya square in the eye, ignoring anyone else. He knows she's in charge. Everybody else is some gutless lackey. "Some- s-some doctor you are."