Transcription

[[Fooker writhes in pain as Justin and the Grey warrior drone Boltzmann wrestle him to the ground.]]
Boltzmann: What is wrong with it?
Justin: Right now, it doesn't matter! Just get him restrained...

Planck: [Looking at Fred with concern] Fred? Are you OK?
Fred: [Uncomfortably] Ngh... no... I can't hear myself think. I feel all woozy. I've only felt this way once, back...
Voice: [off-panel] Aboard Colonel Barker's Physaric flagship.

[[At another entrance to the room, Nick walks in with Persephone on his shoulder and his smartphone in his hand. Waves emanate from the device, implying a hypersonic, inaudible sound.]]
Nick: Sorry it took us so long, and for the lack of advanced warning. We got here as fast as we could.
Persephone: [Drooping] I think I'm going to need an hour to rest in a petri dish somewhere...

[[By this point, Fooker appears to have relaxed and collapsed in exhaustion. Lying in front of him is Socrates, who has oozed off of Fooker's neck and congealed on the floor. Still restraining him, Justin leans in to check on his brother.]]
Justin: Hey, bro... you back with us...?
Fooker: [Weakly] Y-yeah... think so... Socrates...?
Socrates: [Weakly] That... was an unpleasant experience I do not wish to repeat anytime soon...