That was a charitable way of saying Handy had been left writhing on the ground, cradling his head as the searing intensity of thousands of lives in his vicinity threatened to pull his own mind apart. Each and every single one had been a unique pull and pain, every single one informing them of their individual state of being and relative location to him in perfect clarity, overloading his mind with information and sensation. His only comparison had been when he had partaken of unicorn blood and had his audio-visual senses cranked up to eleven and had to concentrate to control and focus so as to not be constantly deafened by a million whispers half a mile off.