The words (not allowed) drew a fractional twitch of fingers at the enforcer's side; their meaning, only a flat glare. Talking? If it had come to finish him, at least that would make sense. But no, talking was all the users had wanted too, and of course this copy was glitched enough to think it might help.

Not that it mattered. Rinzler wasn't broken. He didn't want to look at it. He knew better than to speak. (And if he hated that too, it was easy to bury that loathing in the rest). Violence would make a better answer, but with the door in the way, Rinzler settled for a sharp jerk of his helmet to the side. Fighting was what they were for, and if his duplicate was too damaged to recognize that, all the more reason it needed to be wiped.