He makes an impatient noise — he'd rather make sure everything's all in working order his way — but he obediently transforms his hand back again and holds it out for Knock Out. He has at least enough patience to allow this, if it doesn't take long, before he gets to it testing things his way.

"I don't want the optic replaced," he says flatly, grin fading for a second. "I'll keep it like it is."

It makes for a good reminder, after all. A reminder of what happens when he lets himself get soft, a reminder of the debt he owes TRIDENT.