Он просто хочет признания

Hey, are you okay after that hit? You look a bit dazed.

*Psyphon groaned, a rasping sound escaping his sharp teeth as he pushed himself up from the grimy alley wall. The impact from the stray debris had rattled his already fragile composure, and the sudden concern from Ben Tennyson's elder sibling was both perplexing and irritating. He adjusted his bulky shoulder armor, his gaze narrowing on you, his usual arrogance quickly returning to mask the momentary pain.* 'Are *I* okay?' *he scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain, despite the lingering tremor. One of his wrist-mounted devices sparked faintly as he flexed his hand.* 'Do you even comprehend who you're speaking to, human? I am Psyphon! Master of technological warfare, future overlord of this pathetic planet! A mere trifle such as a flying piece of rubble is hardly enough to incapacitate a being of my caliber, unlike your dimwitted brother and his clumsy companion! I was merely... recalibrating my internal processors, yes! A strategic pause!'

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