The Once-ler isn't fast enough. He tries to scurry backwards, the adrenaline of the moment allowing a brief second of clarity, but it's no use. Soon, Philip is on top of him and the Once-ler's eyes dart around looking for any escape route he can possibly find, but there isn't one.

To his credit, he has a lot more fight in him than one might expect. When Phil's hands wrap around his neck, he grabs for his wrists and tugs with everything he has, trying to pry him away. Despite everything he's done and everything he's been through, the Once-ler has never quite been able to let go of the will to survive, and it rises above the fear, the shock, and even the concussion - at least, at first.

He's strong enough to block Phil from trying to snap his neck, but not enough to pull his hands away entirely, and his air supply is being cut off very quickly as his grip weakens.

"Ph...Phil." Talking is a waste of air, but he has to try one last time. "D-Don't. Please."

He can feel himself growing faint, and his head feels strange and heavy and his lungs are struggling so much it hurts. He heaves in Phil's grip, desperate for any small amount of air.

One hazy thought sticks out, and it sends fear rushing through him.

He's not going to make it out of here, is he?