A Doer, Not a Sayer

Cait did nothing to hide her disgust, for once regretting becoming a Personification.

Her reaction only seemed to embolden Norman, whose smile grew wider as he traced her body with his eyes. Although she couldn't see the faces of the two guards next to him from so far away, due to their reflective helmets, she knew they were doing the same, as if she were some piece of meat to ogle as they pleased.

Upon Leveling up to a Personification, one's body was altered by their Manifestation to become a better conduit for its power, while also strengthening them to superhuman levels of strength and stamina. For Cait, this meant her body was subtly changed to be more attractive to those that viewed her, while also generating lust in onlookers.

She knew that, like all lust, this could come in different forms. She wasn't sure how this ability affected Fate. She just knew he never once looked at her with the dehumanizing gazes she was experiencing now.

In every case, said lust would instill in observers an aversion toward hurting her, which of course only extended toward those in her aura, which she currently didn't have thanks to the vacuum. Still, she had her attractiveness, and this shitty white jumpsuit she wore did little to hide her curves, especially considering they didn't even give her a bra.

"Take your dick and shove it up your ass," she heard. She looked around in confusion; Norman hadn't opened his mouth. With her head strapped to the slab, she couldn't turn much, but she managed to see Fate staring down Norman from the corner of her eye. "Or don't, and I'll break it off and shove it up there later."

"Quite vulgar, coming from you," Norman said, his expression unwavering. "Our records say that you were always a doer, not a sayer."

"Well, when you get chained up to a cold metal slab with no powers to speak of and have to deal with three massive shitheads on high horses, I'm sure you'd be doing the same. It's obvious I can't fight back; you and your cowardly guards made sure of that."

"Running from your purpose is the most cowardly thing you can do," Norman retorted. "Something the six of you excel at. Speaking of, where are your little colleagues?"

"My friends," Fate said firmly.

"Tut-tut. We both know you aren't allowed to have friends, Null," Norman said in a chastising tone as if he was speaking to a child who didn't know how the world works. "None of you are. Emotional attachments weaken you, and distract you from your true calling."

"True calling this, purpose that. If you think all I'm good for is being a little murder drone, then release me so I can prove you right."

"Now, where's the fun in that? No, you'll stay there, on that slab, until you talk. And because you're such good 'friends' with this woman, I'll let her go first."

Norman pulled a remote out of his lab coat, pointing it at Cait and pressing the button. She let out a scream as metal spikes drove into her back and limbs from behind, popping out of the metal slab and skewering her in seventeen places.

"Talk."

"No," Cait growled, spitting in his direction. The vacuum caught the projectile an inch away from her face and whirled it around into the tank of Divine Energy to her back.

"No," Fate said, voice dripping with fury.

"Okay." The scientist pressed the button again, and the spikes crackled with electricity. In the next moment, Cait convulsed as enough electricity to kill a mortal five times over coursed through her body.

Blood dripped from her mouth as she clamped her mouth shut, cutting her tongue with her teeth in the process. She refused to scream again, not for these monsters. She glared at Norman through the distortion caused by the increased gravity, having learned a thing or two about conveying negative emotions through her eyes.

To her satisfaction, Norman shrank slightly at her gaze, although he swiftly hid it behind that horribly phony grin before amping up the dosage. Despite the increased power, she didn't make a sound. She'd gone through pain hundreds of times worse than this, and showing weakness would only vindicate the man in front of her.

She didn't miss Fate's worried look, nor the almost imperceptible way his hands moved. It was nearly impossible to notice, especially since there were two fields of distorted air between them, but she knew instantly what he was planning.

She kept her eyes trained forward, observing all of this through peripheral vision so as not to alert Norman or the guards about what Fate was doing. She contented herself with giving the scientist a constant, withering glare, even as he ramped the voltage up again.

She let out a squeak as the spikes branched out, sprouting small, barbed blades around the point as it split down the middle on each one, latching onto her skin like fishhooks and not letting go. She cursed herself for displaying even a modicum of vulnerability, not allowing her traitorous vocal cords to make another sound even when the spikes grew as hot as a furnace.

Then, snapping her awake just as she felt herself slipping away, Fate's shackles burst apart, the Avatar dropping to the ground as the twelve-hundred-times gravity forced him to the floor. As he fell, he used the slab as a springboard to launch himself a foot away from his previous confines before slamming hard into the ground.

Several dull, nearly inaudible cracks were heard through the whooshing of the vacuums as Fate broke his nose and several bones throughout his body. Cait immediately noticed a crucial detail: the suction wasn't ruffling his jumpsuit anymore.

Fate had used the almost nonexistent gap between himself and the vacuum to steadily work his restraints down until he was capable of bursting through them with sheer strength, bending the metal back and forth, back and forth in imperceptible motions.

It took more time than he had liked, what with the small amount of Divine Energy he had available before the vacuum snatched it away, but it was at the same time quicker than he expected.

Norman gave Fate a placid stare as he studied the splayed-out man. He shook his head, his smirk turning cynical as he stopped Cait's slab. She went slack as soon as the electricity stopped, her forced rigidity gone and the spikes retracting as she panted heavily. Norman turned to the guard on his left.

"Turn it off, and strap him back in. This time, use the Quox metal. I do not want him getting out again."