Spoon's eyes get rather more crazed at the sight of the silver, although he doesn't lose sight of the here and now. He sheds the long, bulky coat to expose a body coated in weaponry and explosives, howls enraged hate, and moves like the fist of an angry God.

There is no mercy, here, no pause or hesitation. No pretense at human speeds, or human strengths. The next little thing and he could, so easily, become nothing but destruction on two malformed feet.