Oh. Oh shit.

Quint doesn't understand the sudden switch, but in a way he does all the same: he's seen a system work before, seen different parts of a whole work together. This was different, sudden, wrong, but- In the same breath, Zero had already been demanding more than just a spar, too.

Thank god he doesn't need to breathe.

"I'm not," he gasps, teeth breaking into a snarl of his own, one hand to the one on his throat.

An immediate, instinctive, expected touch, but it might help (he hopes it helps) as distraction all it's own. He's on his knees. Flipping to get a leg between them and kick 'Zero' away would take too long. He's going to have to resort to less used means.

A click, the slide of smooth metal against metal. The kneeling position instead used to push himself up, headbutt his opponent- And with his free hand SHOVE the shaft of a previously collapsed spear against Zero's throat.

Two hands, now. Putting down more pressure. Two could play at the choking game.

"I am not," he hisses again, red flashing behind dark mirrored visor, struggling to force the reploid down and reverse their positions, "Megaman."