Yeah, something like that. And I'll be drawing it back into myself. [And then, before Giorno can even object, Fugo bristles up defensively.] It's my magic. I just cast this spell, so it's not a problem. And it needs to be taken care of, now, before it gets any worse. This is the only option.

[It will probably just feel uncomfortable, until he finds another outlet for it. The skin on the back of his neck prickles and crawls; Fugo sits very, very still.]