Cayde takes one in and blows it back out, doing his best to comply, telling his nerves to stow it with the pain signals. He's a machine.

"Alright," he says. "And for the record, it does hurt. Just, this entire time. Been hurting. I'll take this as permission to yell if you tweak something."

He watches, though, neck craned and head tilted to see what Peter's doing.

"A Guardian on a table for somebody to fix. Never thought I'd see the day, and would've thought they'd be human if I did. Usually when we go out for good, it's fast."