The Speaker drank whatever the hell was in the beaker, threw back his head and laughed. I'd been too late to stop him. "Don't do this, Raymond."
"It's already done. I can feel it working already." It was true: his skin had taken on an unusual color, and appeared to be hardening. "Soon you won't be able to hurt me. No more mutant advantage, Fleet."
The civilians had scattered. The Speaker's never really targeted innocents, so I hadn't been worried, but what now? "Let's talk about this."
His eyes glowed with chemical fury. "Enough talk."
I needed backup. Where's Rapture?