A flare shouldn't have taken anything out of him, but for a moment Donnie can almost swear he still sees the flash of afterimages even though he hadn't even been looking at the effect itself. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to fight off a migraine, reflexively pressing himself against the side of the cockpit to try steadying himself as he feels the Feder move along with Harlock's maneuvers.

The smoke from the damaged Armor serves as a good screen for their own, a few shots pattering across the enemy thrusters before one blows from an ill-timed boost. The force knocks the Armor off its feet. One stalled- just in time too, because the other one's coming around again from above.