The wound and the lightning urge to break loose fire as one shock through you, never two separate jolts. The injury you carry and the need to rupture whatever confines you fall on one degree of your chart and carry a single charge: you free yourself and others straight from the place you were hurt, your rebellion has a scar at its dead centre. You see the cages other people cannot, because you have felt those exact bars against your own skin. Your read on who is trapped is uncanny and useful. The trap is using sudden upheaval to outrun the tender wound, smashing every structure rather than staying still long enough to let one heal.