"Hold still. You'll be okay," Howard says, all mocking wit scrubbed right out of his voice. Now's the time to be professional. He takes Kon's pulse in his wrist, counting under his breath as he listens to Kon's breathing and checks the wound. As gory as the spike through Kon's leg is, if there's internal bleeding, that's the first cause of concern. He can tell by the way Kon's gaze seems a bit off that there's probably some minor head injury going on there too, but since Kon was out seconds at most, probably not severe.

He tries to think back over all the medical files he reviewed before coming on this mission, back to all the files they went over for Melting Clock. How's he supposed to keep track of all the different abilities of a few hundred crewmates? Something about not using needles. Something about invulnerability, to which Howard now wants to say 'hah, hah'.

No time to be frustrated now.

"You have a healing factor, right? How fast is it?"