So, so very tired he was — and so, so very tired he remained to be. Nicolas had been drugged before. In his line of work, it happened often; villains with certain dispars could take him down easily, and though he had been building a slight immunity to most of those chemicals, this was different. This made him sluggish and so dreadfully exhausted, and yet, he found it impossible to sleep.
"Pasitheanine," That voice began, so far off and out of reach, "it's meant for anxiety. Still hasn't made it to our human trials, yet, but it seems to be doing wonders on you."
"Wwho-who," Nicolas slurred out, his vision unfocusing to the point that all he could make out were smears of color. The shapes were lost on him, and even the rigid corners of the walls turned soft.
"It's not important." The voice replied, "What is important, though, is that you understand your place, yes?"
Nicolas was confused. Usually, his dispar prickled at the surface of his skin, so very tempted to burst out. But at that moment he did not feel it. Not even a bit.
"I'll take your silence as agreement." Nicolas could hear metal scraping metal. "You, Vix, are an important specimen. You see, your dispar is very useful in clinical applications. We could be using your ability to transform your skin to improve people's healing factors tenfold. Don't you want to help people?"
"N...not for you." Nicolas spat, "You're a vill-illain."
"Oh," the voice clucked, disappointed, "isn't that just too bad."
He could feel the scalpel press his skin. It hurt when it sliced his flesh, and yet, he could not scream. He didn't feel the need to. He just stayed perfectly still as a piece of square flesh was carved out of his arm.
"Huh," The voice mumbled, "your dispar didn't activate. Strange. You know, little miss Alice's always worked, even under the Pasitheanine. That's just too bad, isn't it?"
"Alice?" Nicolas whispered, lifting his head. "You... you have Alice?"
"Not any longer, no," the voice sighed, "they wanted her for their human trials facility. It's no matter, though, because I have you now, Vix."
Nicolas didn't believe what he was hearing. He didn't want to believe what he was hearing. "Not for... long. I'll get free."
"You won't." The scalpel met his flesh again, a little further up than the last cut, and this time he made a small yelp, "you're going to be very, very doped up for a long time, my friend. In fact, I'd I cut you loose from your restraints right now, I doubt you'd even find the strength to stand."
"Restraints?" Nicolas asked. He hadn't noticed any.
"The shackles," the voice replied, "have you not felt them? They're what's holding your wrists up."
Nicolas supposed that was true. His arms were above his head.
"I must've given you a bit too much," the voice sighed, "I'll give you less, next time. Maybe that's what's ruined your dispar."
"Robin?" Came a second voice, this one familiar and terrifying. It was the same one he'd heard before when he was taken; and, as such, it immediately instilled in him the same fear that he'd felt then.
"Yes, sir?"
"Is he drugged?"
"Yes, but he is still quite responsive. It has more of a physical effect on him than it had on that girl."
"I see," the scarier of the two noted. Nicolas could see the colors of the second person approaching him. "In that case, I'd like you to leave the room for a few minutes, Robin. Take your samples to the lab and do your thing. Don't return unless I call on you."
"Of course." The first voice answered.
Nicolas heard the door open and shut, and then, there was silence.
No matter how he squinted, he could not see the man before him. All he could tell was that they must've been wearing some manner of lavender shirt, and they were presumably seated on some table in front of him.
"Vix, do you know why you're here?"
"To be you v...villains' lab rat," he spat, "and you won't - wont keep me for long."
"Sure," The man hummed. "You are a very special man, you know. Physical dispars as prevalent as yours are rare. Your kind is very valuable for research. I happen to be a man of science, you know, so research is valuable to me. I don't want to torture you, Vix, but I will not be affording you each luxury you desire. You are a guest, understand? And you will be treated as such."
"He took... part of my... arm."
"I guess he did," the voice hummed. "Just as well, I suppose."
The colors drew nearer, and Nicolas felt a pinching at the base of his neck. Then he felt nothing more.
-
Nicolas came to, finally able to see the shapes with the colors. His arm hurt far worse than it had before, but he thoughts were nowhere near as clouded.
He was alone at that moment, and the restraints he'd been stuck in before were nowhere to be found. He didn't know how long he'd been in that place, but he refused to let himself stay in that place any longer.
Nicolas had never loved his dispar. It was hard to control, and his family's traditions surrounding it were less than pleasant. But he knew it was the only reason he'd become as professional of a hero as he was, and he also knew it would likely be the only reason he would survive this ordeal.
He let his arms scale over in tough, rock-like skin, and proceeded to wallop the door.
The metal did not so much as bend under his assault, as much as he tried. It only creaked, and, eventually, he grew tired.
"It won't work."
Nicolas reared his head back, trying to find the source of the voice.
"They're made to contain all sorts of dispars. You're not as special as you think you are."
"I am Vix," Nicolas hissed, slamming another rocky fist against the door.
All that came in response was sneering laughter.
"Let me out," Nicolas hissed, "Let me out, now!"
But there was no answer.
Nicolas was not alone forever, nor did he remain in control of his mind forever. He was, as he'd expected, used as some sort of lab rat, for lord knows how long. He'd gain some lucidity, and then again, he'd be hopped up on those drugs. He didn't hate it - the Pasitheanine didn't allow him to - but he didn't like it, either. He wanted nothing more than to be home.
