The sound of burning, rising steadily into the cacophony of an inferno, caught Ivan's attention before either the cowboy or the tall, skinny one could respond.  Wheatley's offhanded response went ignored as Ivan watched the growing blaze through squinted eyes.  Finally, when the fireball had reached monstrous proportions, so much so that it wouldn't have been a hazardous prediction to say they might consume everything in sight, Ivan could be sure.  “Aha!”  He thought aloud, wiping a bead of sweat from his massive, bare scalp.  The air had grown warmer.  “Giant fire has Pyro written all over!  Thanks for nothing, babies!  I find team myself!”  Resettling his hat, Ivan once again hiked up his Tomislav and bustled away in the direction of the pyroclasm.

Halfway there, the flames abruptly vanish.  This did not deter Ivan in the least; he had given up trying to understand how the Pyro operated long ago.  Though he was feeling fine, it still took him a fairly long time to trot over to the scorched zone.  Along the way, he missed the flash of green high above, and only when he heard "INCOMING, ALL NON-DUPS GET OUT OF THE WAY" did he look up.  Delsin's descent was a few hundred feet away, and while the method of his arrival momentarily perplexed the Heavy, Ivan quickly turned back to resume his trek.  “Clumsy, painful death for him,” he muttered.

Not long after, he arrived at the site of the immolation.  Upon witnessing the young woman huddled at its locus, he became befuddled again.  Without much consideration, he began to speak in his usual boisterous tone.  “Little lady!  Where is Pyro friend?”  As an afterthought, he added, “And how did you survive burnings?”