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Wilbur looked to the blank concrete through his stuffy mask with the great lighting of a shitty lamp in the corner of the room, he’s been sitting in here for fucking hours, practically watching paint dry if the walls were to be painted anyways.
He’s currently recounting the cracks, small mistakes in the concrete whenever it was created, and the mysterious stains on said walls as a way to pass time.
It’s very boring, so boring that he wishes he could rip his eyes out, but he can’t really rip at anything when he’s been very rudely restrained.
No one’s ever cared enough to be properly polite to Wilbur anyways, so this isn’t the most crazy turn of events in his life.
He will admit that while he’s been tied in the soundless and lifeless concrete box he’s been pondering on why he’s been captured.
Sure, Wilbur’s a fine hero, but he’s more a chair guy than any top hero like Dream or even 404. He’s just the guy with the decent info, so he’s been considering he’s going to be interrogated for something, but he’s going to be honest; he’s not a very popular hero either.
Wilbur’s hero name isn’t even very well known, he’s known as the “tech guy” or “he helps people with knowing things.. right?” He’s that kind of known, not a home name like the sadly passed away Crow father.
So he’s all around confused. And the most annoying thing is that no one at HQ will notice he’s even missing, neither will the news, nor will his family that hates his guts for existing, and the few acquaintances he’s made will just become accepting of his sudden disappearance because….
Wilbur isn’t very… interesting. Important. Another passing name and face in the crowd of outstanding and talented people that he probably should’ve stepped out of by now.
That’s probably why he’s so intrigued by this whole situation. What importance does whoever kidnapped him think he has to HQ if this is some sort of hostage situation? They have had to have stalked him before this.
They should know that barely anyone at work looks Wilbur’s way, even when his ability is deactivated, he leaves his home very little and talks to even smaller amount of people that he’d even leave the house for. he has no hybridity nor looming late bloomer signs that he knows of, and has the very minor power of people paying attention to him when he wants them to for a certain period of time.
The only things he’s confident in is his intelligence and average combat abilities to make up for his power that relies on being sneaky.
So they should also know his weaknesses and advantages.
But in the fight before his capture they… had about an equal fight if it weren’t for the two extra people fighting him. A 1 vs 3 so maybe not as balanced as Wilbur made it out to be, but when the fight started? It was solely with the first offender before it came clear they were equally matched without either one of them using their ability, so they had to call for back up. Wilbur never saw the one that had hit him on the back of the head though. It was too dark to see any of them anyway, as it was a night patrol in an alley without any good lighting, so bad that Wilbur could barely see a foot in front of himself. His mask was on low battery mode and he didn’t exactly have a moment to change that mode to night-time mode so he could have night vision.
But despite it all, it was odd that they didn’t instantly get him with all the information they should have about him….
But, What if they.. didn't? What if they just saw him and saw an opportunity? It’s certainly a possibility but it would be odd for an obviously more wealthy villain with a concrete prison box to just…
straight up nap a random low level hero off the streets like he was so important.
Weirdly this is the most worth Wilbur’s been seen as… since he was given his hero license… and that was kinda stretching it.
..Okay, back onto the “what if this was a spontaneous choice” theory.
It’s possible that these guys might not even know his power, it’s not like it’s his brand like most other hero’s those brands, that being primarily based on their powers if you couldn't tell by his wording. He’s known for being the tech and info guy remember? Not the guy you forget is there hero, And Wilbur didn’t have his power activated because he wanted civilians to feel a bit more safe during their evening walks, even if he wasn’t well known.
Wilbur wanted to at least do his job right on his last patrol of the evening.
Man, this is the weirdest situation he’s been in.
Now that he’s thinking about it, Wilbur should probably be more scared in this ordeal…. Oh well, he’s lost the fucks he could give a while ago.
Wilbur sighs as he leans back into the metal chair with his face now facing the ceiling, the mask he had was tilting slightly with gravity to his forehead, His shoulders were sore as they were tied tightly behind his back, surprisingly with a pair of handcuffs that weren't power deactivators, and he stretched his legs in front of him leisurely like he wasn’t in some murder basement.
After a couple of more minutes of silence Wilbur groaned and looked to the camera to his left in the corner behind himself, “can you please tell me what going on, it's getting increasingly boring in the murder box,” Wilbur said in a tight tone of voice, not in nervousness but in annoyance, this was getting increasingly old.
Wilbur heard as the camera's lenses zoomed in, presumably because whoever was watching was confused as to why he wasn’t shitting his pants or something, but then they made more mechanical noises. Wilbur raised an eyebrow he knew they couldn’t see because of his black mask that had a simple screen to show different emotes, he knew for sure that the mask had no power at this point to do its most simple and less draining ability, as it’s most likely been more than 14 hours and Wilbur had forgotten to charge it before his last patrol. So now it was a plain shiny mask.
Wilbur sat in silence for a while longer before he heard a pair of feet walking down what he assumed were stairs to his lovely guest bedroom. Wilbur sat up a little straighter and looked to the door to his right, his legs were still posed the same, he was overall only a little less slouched over. Behind the door he heard a few inaudible murmurs and a set of what he thinks were keys being moved around before the door opened with an audible ‘click’
The door slowly opened and three people walked in with the last one shutting the door behind them.
The one he looked over first was tall, probably around his height, very brawny. He wore a dark red cloak with a creamed colored fur that lined it the cloak stopped around his ankles, the presumed man also wore dark black combat boots that reached up to their his knees that met some sort of padding or armor on their knees that made the shoes look vaguely like thigh highs, his pants a dark gray color with many pockets that reminded Wilbur of the type of pants a man in the military would wear, a deep red sash was on their mid section a with a black leather hip belt laid on top of it that also had a sheath for a sword, the hilt poking out of said sheath was in a dark purple color with a bright blue gem in the middle if it, the shirt was one of those dark gray compression shirts that turned into a turtle neck that looked like it went right underneath the man’s chin, the stranger wore a similar padding on their knees on their chest, one of the last things Wilbur notes are thick looking leather gloves on his hands.
Though, the mask they wore had to be the most extravagant thing Wilbur’s ever seen a person wear.
That being a whole ass bore skull that had golden embellishments. His hood was drawn over most of his head that hid most of his head and, coincidently, his hair.
Definitely the muscle with how he stood leaning against the wall with his arms folded but no less ready to attack when needed behind the other two, probably supposed to be the intimidation too, this man’s height and figure looks the most familiar out of the 3 so he’s most likely the one Wilbur fought the longest and he had first encountered.
Wilbur’s gonna call this one Boar until they introduce themselves
Wilbur moved his sights into the second one he saw come in, though he wasn’t moving his head to look between them all when they all stood in front of him, Wilbur was really only moving his eyes.
This one was tall like Boar, still a few inches shorter, a little lanky like himself but most likely had some hidden lean muscle. This one wore a red hoodie, at first glance it looks like it’s made of something cheap with the small holes in the fabric and burnt edges but none of the holes or burns look like natural wear and tear and more of a manufactured destruction, the sleeves were rolled up only to show the that they wore the same shirt as Boar and most likely the same armor but it was hidden by the zipped up jacket. Their arms were hidden by the dark gray shirt and their hands were covered by black gloves in the same leather as the Boars, but these ones were less bulky and more sleek and only went to where their wrist ended. They wore cargo pants in a monotone grays and black camo pattern, their pants were cinched at their ankles, they had the same manufactured destruction with a few burn marks and small minuscule cuts that didn't even make proper holes in the fabric. They wore combat boots like Boar but these boots were more scruffier then Boar’s, it was hard to tell if it was the same fake destruction or genuine use of the shoes, these boots only went up to the ankle.
Their mask wasn't as extravagant as their accomplice, a gas mask with red detailing, they had their hood over their head that completely hid the rest of their head once again similar to Boars.
This one stood closer to Wilbur but still behind the one closest to himself, standing confidently, like a second bodyguard but no less like Boar.
Wilbur’s going to call this one… fanboy, because he looks a lot like Boar. Man, these two look so match-y, it makes the last one that stood in the middle of the two look so eye-catching.
They were shorter than the first two, and probably himself, but was an average height for a person unlike everyone else in the concrete room and what he assumed is an average build as well. For once, instead of red the man in front of him wore the color opposite of red on the color wheel, green. He wore a trench coat like jacket, creamed colored fur on the edges of the caller, the length of the coat ending right under their knee and It was in a dark forest green color in a velvety looking texture. Black pants with probably more well hidden pockets. He wore boots like Boar and most likely the same armor like the two red lovers as well, Though it was hard to tell when the jacket was buttoned up. He had a belt like Boar but this time it had sheaths for throwing knives. The man had gloves like a fanboy but with a small red heart on the area you’d usually see someone’s knuckles.
This one no doubt had the most interesting face covering, instead of a mask like the other two, the man wore a flat hat with a very large rim in the same texture and color as his coat with a dark veil that covered their entire head.
The most striking part about this man were the dark wings attached to their back, no texture to be seen, just a black silhouette in the shape of wings.
He’s gonna call this one Bird; for obvious reasons.
They all then just kinda… stared at one another…
Awkward…
Wilbur cleared his throat, “So… why am I in your humble abode?” Wilbur inquired as he looked to the 3 before him, Bird tilted his head slightly, like a Bird, “we’re not sure, we had been waiting for 15 hours now for a response about you being in our capture but haven’t heard a peep in return,” Bird explained eloquently, a British accent in a disguised pitch meeting Wilbur’s ears, perfectly posed as he put his hands behind his back,” you willing to tell us why mate?” Bird asked Wilbur, a dangerous edge to their disguised voice.
Wilbur moved to the position he had before the 3 villains had entered in the iron chair and looked to the blank ceiling once more, “what did you exactly tell them?” Wilbur asked, his casual tone more flat than before.
An annoyed huff was breathed out from one of them, “and why the hell should we explain any of that information to you?” An agitated voice demanded of Wilbur, another British accent might he add so perhaps they are long time comrades from similar up bringing’s? Wilbur in response looked in front of himself to find Fanboy leaned over with their arms folded, tensed.
Wilbur looked back to the ceiling, closing his eyes, “I need to know if you explicitly said I was the one you napped or if you just said something ominous like,” Wilbur took a moment to think before speaking again, he sat up straight all of sudden and put on a silly exaggerated voice,” ‘we have one of your precious heroes in our grasp! If you want their safe return you must, blah blah blah,” once finished he slumped back into the chair and went back to count cracks in the ceiling.
After a few minutes of silence Wilbur looked to the 3 in front of him, Bird was frozen but he looked to Boar and Fanboy did the same, Boar had a hand on their neck as if embarrassed…
Wilbur let out a genuine laugh, Bird and Fanboy turned to him as he cackled,” HAHHA! Pleas-“ Wilbur took a few breaths that let a few smaller giggles, “please! This! This is an amazing revelation!” Wilbur giggled, after a few more minutes Wilbur finally calmed, “woo! I haven’t laughed like that in ages, thanks,” If Wilbur could he would theatrically wipe a tear away if he wasn’t handcuffed.
“I didn’t say it exactly like that..” Boar almost mumbled, huh an American possibly? Maybe not what he was thinking earlier, Wilbur finally straightened up and leaned forward slightly on his chair, “so what did you say?” Wilbur’s voice went back to the tightened causal voice he had before he had broken out in laughter, Boar was standing now instead of leaning against the wall and had re-folded his arms, Boar looked to Bird.
Bird nodded and so Boar looks to Wilbur,
“the gist of it, was that I said we had taken a hero they relied on for info gathering and in order to get them safely returned we had demands they have to adhere to,” Boar monotonously relayed to Wilbur, at the end of explanation all Wilbur could do was look to the floor and sigh. They clearly think there’s only 1 hero who does what he does or thinks he’s the go to guy.
Wilbur contemplated if he should tell them they were extremely wrong or at least remind them Wilbur was a low level hero, no top ten shit. As he thought it over he sat up straight once more and lifted his head to the 3 before him.
Wilbur wasn’t stupid. Despite his give ‘no fuck’ attitude he knew these people were probably some very prevalent people in the underworld, by how Wilbur didn’t know them by costume or by description, how they are all clearly wealthy and put together, how they took him in not the most isolated area with no fear of being caught.
How they seem to think Wilbur knows them.
…
If Wilbur gives them just a tad bit too much information he knows they’ll tear HQ bit from bit, piece by piece, informant by informant, hero by hero; it'll all fall apart…
…
At this point?
Wilbur had a hard time caring what happened to himself.
He could tell he was most likely going to die like every other single person who had been tortured in this sad, single room. Wilbur knew that even if HQ cared enough about him he’d still be left for dead on the steps leading up to the building, a message of danger and spite, he knew all of that well.
So, Wilbur asked one last question that would make his settle his decision.
“How much do you think I’m worth?”
Wilbur’s voice was flat and hollow, he knew it was unnerving by how they all had tensed, probably because of how large of a switch it was from how he acted moments before.
he was looking to where he believed Bird’s eyes are and stared quietly, patiently awaiting a response. An answer.
The Bird un-tensed slightly and then took a moment. Bird breathed a shallow breath,
“You're relatively important, yes?”
Phil wasn’t sure how the interrogation was going to go, definitely not how it was currently going was what he expected. All they wanted to know was why the HQ hadn’t bothered answering their ransom when they usually turned their heads to the syndicate like loyal dogs when it came to someone of their property was in danger in some way.
Phil doesn't know the hero's personality very well but from the few outward appearances Versed makes: it’s seen as a chill, kind, and subtle hero. Versed was rarely talked about but obviously known for being an overall knowledgeable hero.
Versed still seemed intelligent in the few minutes he’s interacted with the hero, but his personality was… Sarcastic, bitter, still playful but in the way that was supposed to get on your nerves… but was also unusually unsettling.
Versed wore one of those masks that makes digital emotes on a simple screen, it was sleek and professional looking, but it was hard to tell what the hero was actually feeling; especially in this moment in time where the mask had long since run out of battery. oddly enough, the mask had this lock on it that Tommy couldn't pick lock, despite that being his specialty, and they couldn’t take off with brunt force unless they wanted to kill Versed to get it off. The hero wore a sleek black body suit underneath a dark gray trench coat with a simple wire pattern on the bottom of the coat in a black color, the lengths of the coat ended at the hero's ankles exactly. It had a hood attached to the coat in the same color of the black body suit but wasn't over the hero's head, currently revealing a head of curly, matted, greasy, dark brown hair. The hero wore a dark gray colored multi tool belt that used to hold first aid equipment, a radio, a very broken phone, and a baton. The hero wore a pair of fingerless gloves in a black color, they seemed to also double as brass knuckles of some kind when the metal in them were discovered in the knuckle area of the gloves, they were taken off and put with the rest of the materials the hero had but were now put into a separate room from the one they all currently stood in. Lastly, Versed happened to wear the same brand of combat boots Phil and his family wore.
So Versed seemed to have been given proper money to be able to have these things in the first place but…
Phil hadn’t been a hero in a very long time, he knows he could be very behind on how the HQ cared for their hero’s these days.
And by how bitter and hollowed Versed sounded when he laughed at Phil's response to… what he thinks Versed was worth.. was…
Uncomfortable.
Phil might even say that it sounded a lot like a Techno when he lost control of his ability, the loss of all care, the burden of knowing, and the hilarity of devastation. It was startlingly familiar. It was like Phil was hearing his son's voice but without his bloodlust tainting him but instead was some form of hollow depression.
After Versed stopped laughing in his chair at Phils response, Tommy stiffened behind him and Techno with a hand on the hilt of his sword as if Versed could get out of the cuffs and wrang Phil’s neck out, when Versed finally stopped laughing like a mad man and breathed heavily before leaning back and slouching against the chair.
The hero then looked to Phil and his sons with a hidden stare behind his mask, a calculating feeling filling the air, “did you know that Dream is actually an informant in the ranks?” Versed's voice was flat, lacking its sarcastic flair that it had this whole interaction, it also held a raspy quality that was most likely from the sharp and rough laughing he had done for a disturbingly long moment.
Everything paused, “what?” Tommy whispered out.
That was… very uncomfortable. Considering that the number 1 hero had the power to cause sleep, dream walk, and just had overall dream control. It is why his name as the number 1 hero’s name was Dream after all.
“Did you know the reason Doctor only has one arm is because Doctor had intervened with the Warden’s work?” Versed said to them with a curious tilt of his head, an action oddly reminiscent of himself. Phil had no clue how to act with what the hero was randomly spitting random information like it was a fun fact he learned on Wikipedia, “ did you know that the reason that The Captain is in retirement was because HQ had decided she knew too much and staged a fight to have a falling building fall onto her in hopes of killing her?” Versed reported like it was on a script planted in his mind.
Phil could only stare, Tommy sounded like he was gagging at the thought as the boy went into the corner of the room, and Techno was frozen behind Phil like Phil was.
Phil has done things. He’s gotten rid of corrupted people in power in cold blood, he’s been deep into the mafia to ease the tensions of the normal world and deep and dark world a regular person should hope to never see, he’s seen horrors of hidden government conspiracies. Hell! Phil’s been a government conspiracy.
But Phil’s never seen how fucked the HQ was. He’s seen what he thought was its darkest moments when he was number one, he’s seen the start of its corruption that spurred his own villainous career in hopes of at least keeping a leash on one side of the world's morals.
Phil wasn’t there for when the corruption had reached its peak but…
Phil focused back on Versed, the hero merely looked to the floor, the man kinda looked like a rag doll with how he sat all slouched.
Versed has seen corruption, seen its secrets, seen all the awful; yet he stayed a hero.
This whole experience has seemingly broken the camel's back. Seeing as the hero had just told them three world shattering secrets that very few people know.
“Why are you telling us this? And how do you know that information is true if you’re so sure that you are worthless?” Techno pulled no punches as he questioned the hero, standing beside Phil rather than right behind him, Versed sat up a bit and looked to Techno. His the shiny blank mask staring back.
“It’s because I give absolutely no fucks about what happens to the people in that god forsaken buliding,” Versed hissed, the anger seemingly not directed at any of them in the room, “and you really just happened to see me on the street, on the one time I wasn’t using my power, and not any sort of info gathering on me at all?” Versed asked in a voice more similar to when they had first opened the door.
“So it’s something to do with your ability? People don’t usually notice you in the street?” Phil wondered out loud, the hero surprisingly enough, nodded, “if I don’t want people to notice me they won’t for a certain amount of time, the more I try to get attention while it’s activated makes the timer go down by more and more,” Versed explained calmly, and more tiredly,
huh, so Versed’s power has absolutely nothing to do with intelligence? It’s being unnoticed… wait,
”and people talk and look over sensitive things when they think no ones there,” Phil mumbled out, Versed, despite looking exhausted from body language alone, nodded but sat up slightly once more as if to keep himself awake.
“Are you done interrogating? Because I've been up for like 12 hours and I haven’t slept for like a day before this whole thing because of paper work,”Versed yawned, falling to the side slightly.
Oh, so the hero was trying to stay awake.
Phill looked to Techno and gave a silent command to unleash the hero.
Techno quickly walked behind Versed and unlocked the cuffs, said hero nearly fell to the floor but flinched awake at the last moment, “oh,” Versed sat up in his chair, rubbing his wrist sluggishly, “I honestly didn’t expect that haha,” Versed mumbled out, sleepy delirium starting to take hold as he giggled.
Phil walked up to the hero and kneeled to him,”can you tell us how to take off your mask so you can sleep soundly?” Phil was telling the truth about this, he wanted this poor guy to get a good rest because he’s obviously been through a lot keeping dark secrets like this, but he also wanted to know his identity so that just in case the hero did regret telling all these secrets to them he’d be able to track the guy down.
Versed almost fell forward onto Phil but Phil caught the man, using his hands to hold the sides of the hero’s face, Versed took a moment to process what Phil said before saying,” only if I can see your face first,” The voice slurred slightly, Phil took a hand away from the worryingly cold hero’s face and took off his hat, Phil could always magic away the memory of his face if he needed to.
The hero relaxed at the sight, “mask off,” Versed mumbled quietly, but the mechanism on the mask heard the hero and in an instant the mask fell narrowly fell onto Phil’s fast but fell into his lap instead.
Phil barely held in a gasp at the sight of the young hero’s face.
This guy had to be around Techno’s age… he also looked like Techno's long lost twin if he had one, not that Phil was sure he didn’t have one, Techno was adopted after all. But also because of how tired the hero looked.
Versed had deep bruising eye bags, sickly pale skin, and chapped lips. He looked like he was falling apart at multiple fraying seams. Phil moved his hands to under Versed's armpits to hold him up in an odd hug, Techno took initiative and grabbed Versed in a bridal carry but paused once he got a glimpse of his new twin's face, Versed only mumbled something incoherent at all the jostling before snuggling into the softness of Techno's cloak and finally falling asleep.
“We’re definitely doing a blood test right?” “My Death!” Phil yelped when Tommy spoke up from beside him, “like, they look like fucking blood relatives!” Tommy threw his hands at Versed who still slept soundly in Technos hold, completely ignoring how Phil took a moment to catch his breath.
Once he did Phil spoke up, “let’s take Versed to the guest room with the lock and then start planning for the future when Versed gives us whatever he thinks we can actually prove,” Phil went up the stairs as he spoke, his sons following behind.
They also had to talk to Versed after his long awaited sleep to figure out what the hero wanted to do when he was done being their personal HQ diary.
Hopefully Phil can help the man look less like he was on his way to a early funeral.