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"That's nice," he said, voice completely flat, and began the process of shoving the paper down the front of Oz's hoodie.

It was less of a catfight and more of hobo versus goth fight, but still. Kostya collapsed on top of Oz on the ground, accidentally kneeing him in the gut, glasses knocked askew as he tried to grab at those horrible, bony little hands, lest they try to yank his hair out again, and--

Kotsya wheezed, rubbing his face a little, eyeballing the space where Caelius had been for just a moment before vanishing. "Yes," he said, "for now. Maybe ve ought to go. Vere my attempts sufficient?"

Kostya did not catch it-- it simply fell onto his head and stayed there a second, before he gently tugged it down.

And as he did, Syntax summoned himself (okay, fine, with the permission of Kostya), and began to glow, shimmering bright. The pixelated red squares peeled away and disappeared-- erasing the evidence of corruption. The process left opalescent white squares in its wake. Burst of light flared from Syntax Error's muzzle, blinding all and sundry if only for a moment. When it faded, there was now a pauldron strapped to Kostya's shoulder-- which held the barrel of the gun in place, too. It would accommodate for his needs, now, without being at as much of a disadvantage. The outside edge had grown sharper, and where there had been a singular sharp edge now laid two, paired to easily swipe with at close range, and perhaps parry a little too.

In the end, the bright cerulean glow dimmed down to nothing, and Kostya blinked a few times in bafflement. Reaching out to Syntax, Kostya mentally recoiled at the sound of party poppers and streamers, as well as a little birthday kazoo.

LEVEL UP. 150/150 XP. 0 G OBTAINED. PLEASE SELECT YOUR NEW PERK.

"Vell," Kostya said, desummoning Syntax deliberately, shaking the tamagotchi a little. "I vill go now." He flashed a thumbs up at Mark-- well, okay, a singular thumb up-- and left Caelius' office, pulling on his new coat.