Cammie flinches, it's hard not to. A part of her is used to flashes of other people's memories, she's shared her mind with her team so many times, she's caught bits and pieces, they all have, but it's nothing like this. Like having the worst things thrust right at you.

Despair aura. Sounds about right.

But she keeps her feet under her. Has to rely on Saturday a bit, for now, but she keeps her feet under her. Left foot, right foot. One step at a time, just get away from these things. Don't think about Saturday's memories, of screaming and dead bodies and ovipostors and gore. Don't think about Nemesis, clawed hands and purple clouds of nanites and isolating her away from the only people who could ever hope to help her and—

"He was like— like fourty foot tall. And metal, and so strong, and—" Deep breath, she lets out a laugh that might sound forced for how strained it is, but it's genuine. It's real. "But right now I dinnae doubt for a second ye'd kick his giant metal arse."