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A Leader? Nope, I Am More of a Follower Chapter 2: The Not So Clean Escape
“You have powers.” He stated, making Sebastian tense as he rose from what had to be a reinforced chair because there was no way in hell that thing could support his weight otherwise. “Before that, would you like a seat? Solitary can get rather uncomfortable even if it was merely three hours.”
The frame of the chair creaked and groaned with Sebastian now in his shadow, neck craning to stare the giant of a man in the eyes across the steel table. Sebastian’s throat felt dry, his visions going into overdrive trying to show him the best path possible.
He contemplated lying and denying he had powers, but none of them went far enough in time to show the results. He subconsciously pulled the chair out and took a seat, muttering a quiet thank you.
As intimidated as he was right now, he knew that Wilson Fisk was a businessman and was willing to work with people so long as you didn’t screw him over. At least that’s what he had heard on the grapevine. If he wanted to be on his side and get his protection, then Sebastian had to be willing to tell the truth to establish some trust between the two of them.
He let out a long, tired sigh, wiping both of his eyes to buy time to find his backbone and to ease out the nerves. Opening his eyes, he looked at Kingpin and tried to convey as much honesty as he could.
“I do. What I know of the two so far is one is telekinesis,” A hum of what Sebastian assumed to be approval came from the man, “The other is a mixture of postcognition and precognition, Mr. Fisk.”
Fisk gave him an appraising look like he was looking at a rare gem that he didn’t realize could be more valuable than he initially believed.
“An interesting gift you have, Sebastian. You caused quite the incident. Dare I say an incident that would be remembered for some time.” Fisk said, voice deep as a slow-moving avalanche, “Sabretooth is… difficult to deal with. Yet you managed to injure and briefly incapacitate him with a plastic cafeteria utensil.”
Sebastian shrugged lightly. “I mean, to be fair, I was very motivated.” A corner of Fisk's mouth shifted. Almost a smile, but not quite.
“Before I get to why I brought you here, I would like to know your current limitations of your powers.”
Sebastian licked his lips, feeling nervous about giving his weaknesses to this man, but at the same time, he didn’t exactly have much of a choice. If he wanted Sebastian dead, he would be dead, and there was nothing he could do about it. Instead, he was here asking questions and being at least amicable with him.
“My telekinesis I haven’t really tested much. The best I could describe it as is like several arms with hands grabbing and gripping things. My… sight is limited by sound.”
“Sound?” Fisk parroted, sounding intrigued.
“Like a bat. The sound, oddly enough, has to come from me, and it helps make the picture clearer. It shows me the past of whatever is near me and the future, but it takes some time being near anything to get anything worthwhile.”
Wilson Fisk nodded sagely before walking around the table. “And yet you were capable enough to survive and even embarrass Victor Creed. I have… plans in the making, and I believe you could be of use in them. That is, of course, if you would be willing to work under me?”
Despite how he was in a room with a man that he didn’t like, his odds of surviving should he decide that Sebastian was better dead, he felt excited. He was getting a chance to work with one of the more powerful villains.
“Y-yes!” A touch too much enthusiasm in his tone before he coughed, clearing his throat, “Yes, Mr. Fisk, I would love to work for you.”
Kingpin looked amused, seeing how embarrassed Sebastian looked, patting his shoulder, towering over him. Despite how gentle the pats were, they had some force in them enough so that if it wasn’t for the chair, he would be struggling to stand.
“Good. You would be a wonderful addition to those under my employ. Your subtle precognition alone makes you useful. Yet enough to also be dangerous.” His tone took on a dangerous edge to it as he lowered his face to Sebastian's, and it made it seem like the room's temperature dropped.
“And enough,” Fisk continued, “To make you foolish if you ever believed those gifts would give you an advantage over me.”
Sebastian felt those words settle like lead. He felt fear but something else. It was recognition of what Fisk was doing. It wasn’t a simple threat. At least Fisk wasn’t threatening him for pleasure. He was establishing terms. Boundaries for which Sebastian shouldn’t cross for his own well being. Structure for him to understand what he can or cannot do.
“I don’t intend to betray you.” Sebastian said honestly. The kind that couldn’t be faked.
Fisk watched him carefully. “Everyone intends loyalty,” He said, “Until it inconveniences them.” His hand was like a steel vice, not as comfortable as it was before but not hurting him either.
Sebastian shook his head. “Not me… I’m going to be straight with you, sir, that I have… How do I say this? I’ve always wanted to be a henchman. The guy that does the majority of the leg word for the big bad villain. You're my ticket to making that dream a reality. Betraying you is the equivalent to taking my big dream and burning it to ashes.”
Fisk blinked once before he merely chuckled at that, releasing his grip over his shoulder. “Good. I have need of men like yourself, Sebastian. I have ongoing… projects. Ones that require discretion, intelligence, and a mind with a unique perspective. Your capabilities, while not as powerful as others with similar powers, align with my needs.”
"Well, I didn’t think I of all people would fit the checklist of what you were looking for.” Sebastian blurted it out, being rather honest. His power, while at first glance may seem impressive, was anything but that.
“Powers alone are not the only thing I look for in people. Your powers, while weak, you made up for them by using your intelligence. You took advantage of all of Sabretooth's weaknesses. You dissected him like a surgeon on the operating table with calm efficiency.”
Sebastian blinked. “Actually I was kind of screaming internally the entire time.”
Fisk, to his surprise, almost smiled. Almost. It was a slight twitching of his facial muscles that tipped Sebastian off. It was hard not to notice when they were so close to one another. But the man played it off as if it was a figment of his imagination.
“But you won.” Fisk said simply. “And in this world, winning matters.” Fisk circled the table like a shark that smelled blood in the water. He simply saw something in Sebastian. Something that felt nice when most people just never paid him any mind and just ignored him.
No one ever sought Sebastian out for anything. Not even selfish reasons. His parents barely raised him and had almost nothing to do with him. The only reason he was even a somewhat functional member of society was because his grade school teachers were halfway decent people and noticed where he struggled and helped him when in class.
“It’s something I learned early on at a young age. Know this, Sebastian,” Fisk's massive hand that could easily hold the entirety of his hand and crush it gently squeezed his shoulder. “Prove yourself loyal, and you will be greatly rewarded. I don’t think it is necessary to warn you of the consequences of betraying me.”
His voice was calm and amicable. The kind someone would have when talking to an old friend about a simple, mundane thing. Yet it couldn’t hide the intimidation and fear that crept up Sebastian’s spine. Even with his gift to see the future and past, it didn’t settle his nerves. If he could see the future and plot things out, it still wouldn’t remove the fear he felt. That was proven in his brief battle with Sabretooth.
But…
Fisk was interested in him and in his line of work, Sebastian did understand and didn’t hold it against him.
"N-no, sir. I want out of here, and working for you sounds like a childhood dream just came true," Sebastian stuttered out.
Fisk smiled gently, his hand clapping him twice on the shoulder. Sebastian winced, almost toppling over, were it not for the chair keeping him in place.
“Good. You may leave Sebastian.” Sebastian got up out of the chair robotically after his hand receded and the shadow of death no longer loomed over him.
His heart hammering in his chest remained that way after leaving the Kingpins cell, where he went back to reading his book. The numerous halls and cellblocks went by in a blur. Sebastian half-heartedly hummed quietly enough that only he could hear it and see the visions of what was to come.
Or maybe it was best to view them as possibilities now. When Sabretooth did what he had at the end when the vision showed he should have been incoherent to not do anything, Sebastian thought to himself.
The guard escorts took him back to his cell with no fanfare. His cellmates looked in his direction and quickly looked away, busying themselves with other things like counting the amount of loose string on a pillowcase that should have long since been trashed.
None of them bothered Sebastian after all that had happened. He had to suppress the desire to fist pump in victory at the notion everyone said going for the biggest scariest motherfucker in prison was a bad idea.
It was only a bad one if you get beat. The words from Fisk came to mind -- winning is everything.
Sebastian had a small smile while keeping his power active through small noises generated from him. It was best to stay alert, but as it showed him through various intangible lines of possibility, nothing came. A day went by with Sebastian in the gym facility for inmates.
It was barebones and simple with what was available, and none of the prisoners were stupid enough to attempt to use the weights or equipment as weapons. Otherwise, the guards and warden would have them taken from them.
It was one of the few ways inmates had to get physically active and something everyone enjoyed. It also helped that it could keep them in shape and build up muscle. Something that was often deemed a necessity.
Case in point, the scrawny guy off in a corner that was more stick than man. He was arrested for helping with laundering money for various criminals acting as an accountant.
Echoes came and went of his history, taking not as long for Sebastian as it had in the past. Only a few seconds shorter for the past and future to move beyond the present.
Everyone eyed him, but they continued what they were doing. Beyond what Sebastian had managed to do with Sabretooth, it was safe to say Fisk had made sure the prisoners left him alone.
The smell of sweat and the desperation of men not wanting to be weak enough to get eaten alive in this place filled the air. The metal cranking against flesh and bone as they pushed themselves to go beyond their current limits in the large room was the only form of music.
The equipment was simple and nothing fancy. Bench presses, dumb bells, and a few others. The most advanced thing in the room that whirred like a fan was some stationary bikes. All of it looked bare bones and basic.
Sebastian stepped forward, heading towards a rack of dumbbells. Grabbing two 10-pounders, he gritted his teeth and started curling them along with a few shoulder exercises he remembered from high school.
Some of the prisoners looked confused and others just smirked like they found something funny.
Screw this.
A mental flex and the feeling of those invisible hands appeared along his arms and weights, not taking the weight off of his arms entirely. The burn he felt dimmed in his limbs, the telekinetic force easily taking some of the weight off.
His arms still got some exercise out of them, but his telekinesis did the majority of the work. Sebastian mentally berated himself, annoyed that he was so physically weak he had to cheat with this kind of weight.
If he was going to fulfill his dream of being a minion under a supervillain like Fisk, then he had to get in shape. It’s just he didn’t want to get physically fit because of how much time it took but also how it made him feel physically. He didn’t like the aching and burning sensation across his body.
Putting the weights back and grabbing two 25-pounders. He could only lift and use them with his power. The prisoners' smiles faded when they saw this. A few curls he hardly felt, yet he felt the burn of embarrassment as his cheeks turned crimson.
Then he upped the weight again by this point, curious about the limits of how much his power could lift. Sebastian had gotten up to 50 pounds before he turned, gaze landing on the three men he remembered from the cafeteria when he made a name for himself.
“Some impressive weight you’re managing to lift there, kid. Rather deceptive even.” A strong, thick country accent came from the one in the middle.
He was flanked by a big man, not as big as Fisk, but big enough that Sebastian would have thought twice when it came to attacking him. He had a well-groomed handlebar mustache.
The other one was a dark-skinned man who, much like the big one, had a well-groomed beard that went along his jawline, connecting to his sideburns.
The three, even when Sebastian had done what he did to Sabretooth, the other prisoners before and after that left them alone and gave them their space. So they weren’t to be taken lightly.
“Always keep a few aces up my sleeves.” He said, using the burn from his earlier attempt at lighter weight to convey the strain.
The leader of the ragtag group nodded, a knowing smile on his face. “A wise policy. Names Montana. This is Ox and that’s Fancy Dan.”
OX gave a small wave, and Dan just nodded in respect.
“We have a mutual friend. One you recently met.” Montana nonchalantly said, yet his country accent and how it sounded made it sound anything but nonchalant.
Sebastian wasn’t slow and picked up what was being said underneath the layer of words. His head quickly bobbed up and down.
“Yep. Pretty cool guy. Witty yet charming, and surprisingly gentle.”
My words made the trio glance at one another with smiles. Sebastian realized who they were and why they seemed so familiar to him.
The Enforcers.
Originally they were hired by the Big Man, who was revealed later on after getting arrested in a gang fight between Doctor Octopus and Silver Mane to be Lonnie Lincoln.
They went up against Spider-Man, which wasn’t something just anyone did on the regular. Normal criminals would try to fight, but no one respected them. Guys like them were a common thing in this prison.
But those like the Enforcers. They were treated with great respect. Anyone could pick up a weapon and try to fight a superhero. It’s a rare few that can do that and manage to hold their own against said hero.
Sure, Spider-Man beat them, but that didn’t mean they were like the other criminals. Sebastian wanted that respect, even if he had no intention of being the man in charge of calling the shots.
He was perfectly fine being a goon doing all the grunt work. He just wanted to be seen as more than a shadow on the wall.
A low chuckle escaped Montana, making him sound more like he was gargling whiskey with gravel added into it.
“First time I ever heard someone describe him like that. Yet it also fits him oddly enough.” He said, grabbing some weights as they got to work exercising.
Sebastian simply hummed and kept using his power but not too overtly. What little he had shown, he would rather keep it that way. He didn’t want people figuring out what his gifts were. The less they knew the better.
At least when it came to people whom he didn’t have as partners or steadfast allies.
The room went quiet. Everyone’s movements stopped. All eyes turned towards the massive looming figure that leaned down just enough to enter into the room -- the Kingpin himself had arrived.
All the other prisoners besides the four of them in the room, which had slowly trickled down, had left. Only a handful besides Sebastian and the Enforcers remained. They soon got the memo when Fisk merely smiled in a way that was meant to be friendly.
A wave of his hand towards the way in and they soon left. No guards around the room or even at the doorway, having left with the other prisoners. Fisk's uniform was immaculate, and his steps measured as he took a seat at a bench press.
Ox himself after the thirtieth rep of over five hundred pounds stopped his workout. Calling it that was just absurd when the mustached man wasn’t even winded or sweaty. He easily placed the bar and the weights back on the rack without even needing a spotter to help him.
Fisk himself took a bench press while Sebastian’s almost silent humming showed him what was to come. He had expected Fisk, and the Enforcers being here already added to that notion even if it wasn’t for his precognition.
The strands arrayed before his eyes were tossed aside, his mental grasp of them loosened when they showed things that never came to fruition. What remained was only the most probable now. Sebastian was quickly learning to sift through the false ones and go for the strands that seemed the most likely.
“Enforcers, I see you have met Sebastian Lowman. He is a part of this now. What is the progress on your project?” Fisk said without a single hitch in his breath despite lifting even more than Ox.
Said man was spotting for Fisk while Sebastian watched on slackjawed when his weights felt inadequate in comparison.
“Nearly complete. One last piece is needed, and it will be finished.” Montana said in his country accent.
“Excellent. This evening is when we will make our exit.”
Sebastian could only blink at that. He wasn’t against escaping from this place. He had no intention of wasting away ten years of his life in this hellhole. Especially when Sabretooth was pissed at him.
Everyone knew the stories of Sabretooth and what he did to those that he held a grudge against. The psycho was already a butcher to a random bystander. But someone he had a bone to pick with was in for a very bad time.
Even if most of the stories were made up, Sebastian knew all too well that with the brief encounter he had with the mutant, the stories definitely weren’t exaggerated, let alone made up.
His decision made, Sebastian asked the more pertinent question.
“While I’m not against getting out of here, wouldn't it be difficult for us to lay low while we’re supposed to be in here? Everyone would be looking for us once we got out.”
Sebastian knew better than to outright say the obvious that for people like Fisk or Ox it would be difficult to not stand out. Being as big as they both were came with some downsides.
Despite Fisk practically running this prison himself, if he broke out everyone would be looking for him. From heroes to regular street cops.
Instead of getting insulted or looking at me like I was an idiot, Fisk merely gave me a soft smile and a nod of respect. Like a father seeing his son ask an important question, showing he was more than just dumb muscle.
“Yes, they will. Rest assured, Sebastian, those details have been taken care of. We just need to deal with the one responsible for taking my company from me and masquerading around in my likeness.” Fisk's tone shifted from gentle to cold as the grave.
His hands clasped around the bar grew tighter, making the metal groan lowly, sounding like a freshly risen zombie.
Sebastian nodded, not questioning if his plan was a good one or not. He had faith in Fisk, the man noticed him where most wouldn’t have even bothered with him. Unless of course, they wanted something from Sebastian or to make themselves feel better by beating him up.
“The body double will be handled as agreed, sir. But… Are you sure about bringing the kid onboard this late?” Montana asked.
“Sebastian, despite being new to these things, has potential I wish to nurture. It won’t detract from the plan, and if anything, Sebastian’s presence may ensure it continues as we intended.”
Montana accepted the answer and moved on from there.
“Works for me then. So long as he doesn’t slow us down, some extra muscle never hurt, considering what he managed to do to Sabretooth.”
His power was cast further back, seeing what had occurred before he met them all in the gym room. Unfortunately, it wasn’t far enough back for him to see who wrote the note.
The advantage of seeing the past was that it already happened. It was set in stone now, whereas the future was always in flux. A constant stream of variables and different what ifs that could and would occur that would alter the trajectory of the more common outcome.
Sabretooth managing to almost get Sebastian when he should have stayed down trying to get the plastic utensil out proved that. Even seeing the different scenarios play out before him while listening to the discussion at hand reinforced this.
Fisk by this point had put the bar back up and had his hands folded in that way only good supervillains ever seemed to pull off.
“Good. We will act tonight.”
“It’ll be done.” Montana said with the other two enforcers nodding while Fisk went over the plan, including me in the details.
…
It was time. The plan was to use a riot as a means of distracting everyone so that we could escape. The bad part about it was that Sebastian had been given a rough estimation of when it would start, and when it did, he had to open his big mouth and tell Fisk that he would meet them there himself.
He didn’t want to prove Montana right about the possibility he would slow them down. The issue was Sebastian was struggling to find a means to get to them or close enough to the meetup point before all hell broke loose and its denizens were now free to terrorize everyone else.
The riot began with a scream followed by another. Then distant gunshots joined the chorus of screams. Next thing Sebastian knew, his power flashed a warning after he hummed a little and went wide-eyed and dived for the floor with the few guards and inmates near him looking at him.
Those looks of confusion were soon overtaken by shock and pain when the cafeteria windows exploded outward, peppering them all with shards of reinforced glass raining down on all of them. Sebastian knew the plan was a riot and had been expecting Fisk to make his move.
He had not been expecting Fisk to make it look like the entire Raft had collectively decided today was the perfect day to lose its mind.
Sirens shrieked through the corridors as emergency lights flashed red. The sound of a reinforced door could be heard buckling in the distance, the metal groaning like a beast out of the depths of the ocean. Then a crash followed by a great tremor as something enormous crashed through a wall.
Peaking through his arms that covered his head in case something fell as he watched the madness unfold around him.
“… Okay, he’s doing it now.” Realizing it was now or never, Sebastian got up and ran like a bat out of hell.
The Raft descended into chaos. Prisoners poured into the corridors, some armed with improvised weapons while others ran wherever there weren’t any guards. And then there were the powered inmates.
Those were the ones Sebastian was really worried about. A man with superhuman strength tore a security door off its hinges and used it to block a squad of guards. Someone else unleashed a blaster of energy that sent tables and chairs flying through the cafeteria. A prisoner with enhanced speed zipped through the corridor, knocking guards over before disappearing around a corner.
Some inmates weren’t even trying to escape. They were just taking advantage of the opportunity to settle old grudges. A pair of prisoners tackled one another into a wall, someone else screamed about stolen cigarettes, and another inmate climbed onto a table in the middle of the hall for some reason and began shouting about freedom.
Then Sebastian’s eyes snapped towards a guard tossed around a corner, slamming into the wall before a prisoner followed him and casually punched through a reinforced wall.
“That’s… probably not my route.” Sebastian did the smart thing and went the other way.
Taking several paths and barely avoiding the fighting and chaos that was unfolding around him that was growing worse by the second.
He had a meeting point, Fisk had given him instructions -- get there, wait if they are not there yet, and if need be improvise if caught up in the riot.
He intended to follow those instructions perfectly. The last one would be the easiest for him since it was his only means of getting to them. He made it approximately thirty feet when a massive prisoner that had muscles on top of his muscles came charging around a corner.
Sebastian froze when his precognition detonated inside of his head. A dozen possibilities through his mind. If he stepped left, the prisoner would hit him as the image showed teeth flying free from his mouth. Stepping right led to a fleeing inmate crashing into him.
Staying still led to the same outcome as the first vision he witnessed, and he would rather keep his teeth and body intact. Ducking showed a chunk of ceiling falling on him. Running forward would get him hit by someone blasting the corridor. Backing up would lead to a guard attacking him believing he was a part of the riot.
Sebastian’s eyes widened. “…Oh, c’mon.”
Then after what felt like a small eternity, where he began to believe this was the hallway he would have the worst day of his life that would top getting arrested, he finally got a glimpse of hope.
One of the possibilities came near the end, and he banked everything on it. He threw himself sideways, hoping this was his way out and not a moment of false hope. The massive prisoner slammed into the wall where Sebastian had been standing.
He scrambled upright. “Thanks!”
The prisoner looked at him like he had lost his mind when he was trying to kill him. He didn’t care if the scrawny kid hadn’t done anything to him, nor if the Kingpin had made it known Sebastian was to be untouched. A riot was going on, and he wanted to vent some frustration, especially when there were no women around in the male section, he figured the twig would make a good substitute since the female section was too far, and he didn’t like his odds of getting there.
Just when he was about to go after him a cracking sound had him look up only to get a piece of the ceiling landing right on his face. Before he could even fall over the wall at the end of the hall broke apart when a beam of something slammed into his chest and sent flying back at the other wall at the end of the corridor.
Sebastian immediately ran without even looking back. He didn’t want to. Knowing any number of gratuitous acts of violence happening and they could happen to him. He had somewhere more important to be. Turning the corner, three guards were fighting a powered inmate and getting knocked around like a couple of ragdolls.
He turned around to instead see a group of inmates coming from the other way. Giving them the slip, he ducked into another corridor only for an explosion to send him tumbling.
“Why is every direction terrible?!”
He tried again. He tried again, his future sight showing him the outcomes.
Failure. Again. Failure. Again. Failure, after failure, after even more failures. Yet Sebastian didn’t give up, he may change course, alter somethings, but he remained steadfast in his attempt to get to the meetup point. His problem was that there were too many moving pieces. Too many unpredictable powers, people running around the prison.
Despite what Sebastian managed against Sabretooth, he wasn’t a fighter. He could fight, but it would be dirty and embarrassing how he would do it. He could influence things, anticipate them, even if he was lucky and put far too much effort into something to make it happen when it absolutely shouldn’t have happened.
But walking through a prison wide riot full of superhumans?
That was something else entirely.
A chair flew past his head. “Nope!”
Sebastian moved through the winding corridors until he found the only place that was somewhat safeish -- his cell. He dove inside it and slammed the doors shut behind him. Pressing his against it breathing heavily as the chaos outside could still be heard.
“Okay.” He looked toward the ceiling. “Think.”
Fisk was counting on him… That thought was strangely motivating. Nobody had ever counted on Sebastian before. He couldn’t screw this up.
He closed his eyes and the world changed when his humming grew louder. His distorted perception stirred, becoming clearer than it had been before. It was still confusing and he had to sift through various possibilities, like someone just managing to wake up and hadn’t rubbed the sleep from their eyes.
Then an idea hit him. He reached outward, not with his hands but his mind. Telekinesis had always been the easiest part of his powers that he could understand.
Things like push, pull, lift, move, were all simple things at the end of the day. But now Sebastian concentrated on something else he hadn’t thought to do before -- the walls.
His telekinesis and future perception brushed against the reinforced concrete then stopped.
“…Huh?”
There.
Something was wrong. Or rather, something was missing. Sebastian moved closer, placing the palm of his hand against the wall feeling the rough concrete. His telekinesis slipped through concrete in tiny tendrils through the various holes however minuscule.
There was a cavity. It wasn’t large, but it would do. A narrow space hidden behind his cell wall wasn’t something he had expected.
He just stared at the wall. “You have got to be kidding me.”
He searched further, invisible telekinetic strands feeling the passage out, finding old pipes, maintenance conduits, and electrical cables. Sections that had clearly been sealed during previous renovations. It made sense. The Raft had been modified and reinforced over the years.
Apparently, nobody had ever gotten around to making every single inch of it perfectly sensible. Not that Sebastian would complain, now sporting a big shit eating grin.
Seeing his way out and getting to the meet up point he began to concentrate. Initially, the wall didn’t move. That soon changed when Sebastian changed the shape of his tendrils to begin carving subtle lines through the concrete. It took several long painful seconds that made Sebastian nervous.
Just one random superhuman could blow through his cell, but Sebastian stayed the course. He had no other options by this point. The seconds ticked by and finally the slab of concrete pulled back into the room held in the air by his gift.
Not even a mental strain beyond a smidge of effort. No different than picking up a shoe. He moved forward to squeeze into the hole. His shoulder went first, then his torso. Hands clasped around a pipe hanging from it to prevent himself from falling down the dark narrow shaft.
He was almost through when his leg got caught on the odd angle he was at. He tugged, yanked, and tried to force it through. He growled when all of was proven unsuccessful.
Sebastian voiced his growing worries and frustrations aloud to the dark above and below him.
“Fisk is going to escape without me because I got stuck in an awkward angle.” He concentrated harder, trying to move his leg in a more favorable position but none of them worked. “C’Mon you stupid piece of— aha there we go!”
He said with enthusiasm not noticing how his leg lost any and all feeling from the wall that had trapped him, seemingly going through air when it shouldn’t have. Had Sebastian been looking back instead of looking at the pipe he hung off of, he would have seen his leg go through the wall as if he were a ghost.
With his leg free Sebastian’s lower body swung forward and his grip on the pipe vanished to his horror.
“Shit!”
Tumbling down the maintenance cavity he managed to land on a pipe.
CLANG.
He winced, feeling the soreness already from smacking into the pipe. He glanced around but no one came or even noticed the racket he just made in the walls. Looking back at the hole in his cell wall, Sebastian used his power that had kept the lump of carved concrete up and slid it back in place and taking the only source of light he had in here.
He exhaled then looked down, noting the pipe led further down. “Excellent.”
The dark didn’t bother him with the clusterfuck happening everywhere else, his perception could figure out where pipes were and where everything else was at. Various images of him falling and smacking into everything in here helped figure it out while embarrassing him in the process.
He began climbing and ignoring his body's protests, with it lasting all of twelve seconds when his hand slipped on a wet pipe that he thought he would have a better grip on.
“Whoa!”
He managed to catch himself against another pipe as he dangled above, his foot searched for something solid. He lowered himself after a moment of searching and finding something. One foot came down then another.
Squish.
He stopped and slowly looked down. His shoe was sitting in something he very much hoped was old grease.
He could only shake his head. “Fucking fan-damn-tastic.”
It didn’t stop or deter him as he just continued down. The issue lay with the fact the further down he went the worse the shaft became. Dust covered his sleeves, grease coated his hands making any attempt to grab anything difficult, and then something decided to drip onto the back of his neck making him rethink if going through the Rafts corridors wasn’t such a bad idea.
The unknown liquid trailed down his neck towards his back making Sebastian go perfectly still. He slowly looked upward, giving the dark chasm above a withering glare. The journey below was arduous and Sebastian had to use his telekinesis to support himself physically by reinforcing his body. He wouldn’t make it down far enough otherwise.
A pipe forced him sideways, then he had to duck a cable that was currently unknown if it had a live current going through it or not, and another pipe required him to climb over and around it. At one point he had to lower himself through a gap while hanging from a rusted support.
His arms shook from the exertion. “I’m supposed to be a minion,” He whispered angrily. “Nobody told me minions had to do plumbing.”
He dropped onto another pipe that acted as a platform.
CLANG.
He winced again looking around himself and like every other time he failed the stealth mission, no one was even around to notice.
Avoiding the unknown liquid on a particular spot on the pipe, his power getting put through its paces as he managed to avoid the worst of the disgusting environment around himself while doing his best monkey in a concrete jungle impression.
Behind him the sounds of the riot had finally become distant while he lowered himself lower into the dark abyss that awaited him. He paused, ahead of him somewhere amidst the forgotten infrastructure, Sebastian could sense another possible route. A route that eventually connected with the prisons outer systems.
His future sight couldn’t tell him everything but it could tell him one thing -- this path had a chance.
Wiping part of the wall off of his head sending it raining down onto the pipes in the narrow section he was only just small enough to move through.
“I just had to tell Mr. Fisk I can get out of my cell on my own and I’d meet him… Me and my big mouth.”
He told his employer this to convey he was capable and resourceful. He didn’t want to be viewed as a burden. Not when he could fulfil a simple childish dream and make it a reality.
He quickly grabbed a pipe and used it to clamber down. His arms and legs strained, the burn of his muscles making their displeasure loud and clear.
“Son of a…” Sebastian hissed when his knuckles banged against a pipe he hadn’t seen. He looked and saw no damage besides the pain. “Last time I go crawling through the floorboards of a prison.”
Sweat coated his body, each breath was labored, his temples felt the beat of his heart and his muscles made plenty of promises of revenge for subjecting them to this torture. Nearing the end but the cramped quarters made things difficult combined with his body's protests, Sebastian got an idea.
Gingerly, the invisible force placed directly under his feet before he tested it a few times while holding onto a pipe. The force held strong before he smiled and let go slowly floating down to the level he needed to be at. Sebastian wanted to smack himself for not thinking of that sooner.
His various visions showed where he was when he thought of creating small holes for him to see through.
His vocal signs of physical exertion were enough to help him see beyond his regular eyes before he stopped and placed his hand against a thin wall. His method of traversing the prison was something not many if anyone else could do.
The narrow passage he used in between the walls for the prison was old. Likely from when they first built the Raft and likely remodeled it for some reason or another. Not many would know about it considering how small and narrow it was, and as far as Sebastian knew, it was the only one in the prison he knew of.
No one likely knew this part of the prison existed, but Sebastian wasn’t about to complain. As for the dust and grime covering him, that he would complain about.
Rapping his hand against the wall in a specific pattern it wasn’t long before the counter sign was given. Before Sebastian could even use his power to get through he stumbled back in shock when something smashed into the wall.
His visions showed nothing like that happening and he was caught off guard that it made his focus slip just enough that the invisible platform he stood on like two hands cradling his feet vanished and he almost fell into the narrow abyss below. His arms slammed down onto a pipe sending jolts of pain up his arms but he clung to it as his lifeline.
Scanning out he sensed he was finally where he needed to be at. He let out a huff of relief. “Finally.”
An unknown substance of dubious cleanliness dripped from high up right onto Sebastian’s head, trailing down his forehead. “Fucking damnit.”
Arms busy holding on for dear life, his telekinetic tendril smacked the wall in a specific pattern. A series of knocks fired back and he gave the final pattern in return. The instant the last knock rang out, a crack and several fingers came through the wall.
Light poured into the dark cramped space he found himself in with a massive shadow blocking the light before a big hand grabbed Sebastian. At first he was about to panic but stopped when he realized the hand was being gentle.
Quickly pulled into the room and he saw the giant shadow was none other than Ox. “Thanks.”
Sebastian got to work wiping what he could off of himself as Ox nodded with a small smile before looking down at his hand and wiping it on a nearby wall leaving a trail of grime.
The shadow of Fisk fell over both of them with the Silhouette of his head looming like an angel of death.
“Glad to see you made it on time, Sebastian.” He gave him a warm smile. “If you hadn’t we would have had to leave you.”
“Understandable.” Sebastian said after a moment of deliberation.
He understood why Fisk would have to do such a thing, and didn’t hold it against him. It didn’t help that Sebastian was both embarrassed by his big mouth trying to impress his boss but also how he got to him.
Now in the lower levels of the prison, the hum of the lights above helped mask some of the noise from the riot above. Despite the numerous lights installed down here, it was still dim. It was like instead of opting for better quality they instead chose to add as many of the annoying tube lights you would see in an inner city school.
Hands stained with dust, dirt, and who knows what else quickly began wiping everything in his hair and body off of himself. Sebastian did not like getting dirty, but he would rather be dirty than late and getting left behind because he couldn’t carry his own weight.
“Thanks…”
“Think nothing of it.” Ox said amicably. The man despite his size was surprisingly soft spoken.
He saw the enforcers decked out in their own villain suits. They looked absolutely badass. A pang of jealousy crept into Sebastian’s heart but he pushed it aside knowing he would one day soon join them.
“Let us be rid of this place.” Fisk said imperiously.
They all moved down the tunnel and past a massive hole that went right through the concrete of the prison. Sebastian knew the handiwork of Montana, also known to the public as the Shocker.
Then another massive quake rocked the tunnel coming from above. The riot must be getting worse.
“The guards and security should be distracted enough to not notice any of us missing. By the time the riot has been dealt with, we will be back in the city.” Montana said aloud, likely more for Sebastian’s case than anyone else.
All of us followed Fisk. No guards, any form of security, nothing. Sebastian half expected anything, but nothing ever came. Even his new and improved future sight wasn’t catching anything either. It was predicting each rumble and shake of the ceiling much better after his spelunking in the Rafts guts.
They stopped at a concrete wall that looked like the rest of them. Nothing to distinguish any difference. Sebastian wouldn’t be surprised it was deliberately made in such a way.
“Montana, if you would.” Fisk said calmly.
Shocker obliged him with a small nod, his mask covering his face before with both hands raised. Shockwaves came from his gauntlets that looked more like random pieces of scraps and trash cobbled together. Before we all knew it a hole big enough for each of us to walk in single file formed and we were out of the prison.
