It had been three years since Fran took over the mist guardian position, and he had adjusted to the Varia lifestyle like a fish to water. He did have his moments though, such as the time he lost control of his flames and destroyed the entire West wing, or the time he didn't mention he was sick and collapsed during training. Despite the various incidents, the illusionist had come to trust his newfound family, which was he was currently looking this man in the eye and refusing to speak.

"Willing to speak now, little illusionist?" The tall male asked, leaning over the chained mist. "I haven't even started the hard stuff yet and you're already crying."

Fran gathered the remaining saliva in his mouth and spat on his captor's trousers, "Go to hell bastardo."

The torture expert narrowed his eyes in anger, "Very well, I gave you a choice you pathetic excuse for a mist. You've proven you're a big boy, so you can take the hard stuff."

"Vaffanculo!" Fran shouted as the man excited the large room, shutting the door behind him.

The lights that were previously blinding were suddenly turned off, making Fran shut his eyes to stop the nausea that spread through his body. He had no way of knowing how long he had been kept here in this disgusting room, considering he had been sedated during his capture. The mist leant his head back against the wall tiredly. Somewhere out there was his famiglia, he knew they were looking for him, they had to! Crippling doubt crept into Fran's mind. Do they know I'm missing? He thought miserably. Are they somewhere out there right now looking for me?

Drip. Drip. Drip. Water started to drip onto the illusionist's bare head and a peek upwards showed a small drain pipe that was slowly leaking. He was underground. A glance around him showed there were no camera's watching him, but there may be microphones, so Fran stayed quiet as he celebrated. If he could get the thrice damned cuffs off, he could open the grate and hopefully exit through the drain.

If there was one thing that his Master taught him, getting bonds off him was one of the first. Fran secretly thinks it's because Master doesn't want to see anybody tied down like he was. Something like flame-suppressing cuffs wasn't going to stop him from escaping. He had, assumedly, been patted down earlier but the small piece of wire was still hidden in the seam of his pants. Fran quickly unravelled the thread and managed to get the thin wire out of its hiding place when the door banged open dramatically. Looking up in surprise, the broad figure of the man was back again with a black bag that undoubtedly held a few nice-looking tools. "Oh, it's just you." Fran stared blankly, looking to rile up the man while he hid the wire.

"Who else did you expect you little merda. Your precious famiglia? Hate to break it to you, but they won't be here for a long, long time." He snarled aggressively.

"Mind telling me your name then, since we're going to buddies soon?" Fran queried. "I don't want to refer to you as 'you there' forever."

The illusionist got a harsh slap to the face for his query. "If you must know, my name is Fulvio." The man, Fulvio, said conversationally. "What do you think we should start with today, little mist?"

"How about the date." Fran deadpanned.

Fulvio chuckled sinisterly, "How about we start with gagging your pretty little mouth."

A dirty, black gag was pulled out of the duffel and tied it tightly, attempting to make his prisoner's lips bleed from the force. The next was another pair of handcuffs that were used to restrain his legs. Fran watched in slight terror as tool after tool was pulled from the inconspicuous looking bag, scalpels, syringes, brass knuckles and all sorts were placed on the table. A large knife was selected from the table and Fulvio advanced on the helpless mist.

The knife was extremely sharp, cutting open his coat and shirt like butter. Fran shut his eyes, not willing to let his captor see the terror in his eyes. He whimpered slightly as something sharp trailed along his collarbone gently, tracing a path only Fulvio knew. The next second, a scalpel dug into his flesh and Fran screamed. There was something coating the metal, making the pain feel sharper, making him focus on it more. Fulvio laughed as Fran convulsed in agony under his hand, at every trace of a knife, a stab of the scalpel, a bruising kick from steel capped boots.

The mist was barely conscious when Fulvio finally stopped, it could have been a mere ten minutes or agonizing hours. The only constant that went through his mind was pain and the escape plan that was forming in his mind. Fulvio's boots clacked as he walked away from the bloody, bruised mess that was Fran. "When I come back mist, I expect you to answer all the questions I ask you." Fulvio sneered, leaving Fran heavily restrained and gagged.

Fran cried out as he moved his bruised arm to grab at the metal, pulling it out from his pocket and inserting it into the cuffs restraining his arms. It didn't take long to get the first pair of restraints off him and he grasped the gag and ripped it out of his mouth, not caring that he tore the edges of his lips open more. The second set of handcuffs were harder but still were opened quickly considering how injured he was. His flames were coming back to him now that the suppressors were off him, but he had obviously taken too long as Fulvio walked back in and saw him unshackled.

"You little merda!" Fulvio shouted, turning an impressive shade of red. Fran didn't have a chance to move as Fulvio grabbed a knife from his person at hurtled it at him. The illusionist choked on his breath as the knife imbedded itself an inch away from his belly button. Becoming unfrozen, Fran gathered his returning flames and used them to force open the grate above him and took off at a fast army crawl through the drain.

Fulvio's shriek of rage echoed off the walls, but it became apparent that he had no flames when he didn't attempt to go after him. Fran paused for a moment and took time to break off the handle of the knife. He wasn't anywhere near an expert in first aid and didn't want to risk injuring himself further by pulling the serrated blade out.

It took a while of walking though disgusting smelling water when he reached the end of the long drain. Fran staggered out of the opening, blood loss setting in, and flared his flames as much as he could to signal to the Varia. There was a creek nearby with a small clearing, looking sparkling clean compared to where he had been previously, and he headed over there to wait for his famiglia. Fran rested his back against the tree, exhausted, and attempted to stay awake.

He found himself drifting despite his efforts and only caught glimpses of the world outside his mind. His body registered hands touching him, it wasn't until they wandered near his stab wound that he moaned weakly, making the hands pause. "Fran, FRAN!" Someone was shouting at him.

Fran coughed weakly, something warm spattering over his lips, making the person above him swear. He opened his eyes a sliver and giggled deliriously, "A cavity fungus has come to save me!" A ringing sounded near his ears and his mind went blank.

/Time skip/

Fran brushed against his newly healed skin as he tugged off his shirt. Taking a moment to look at it, Fran remembered how relieved his famiglia were when he woke up after they found him. They told him that Levi had found him, crackling with lightning and pissed at how bad he looked. Levi told him how Fran had responded to his name being called, laughing about a cavity fungus saving him before passing out.

He didn't need Lussuria to tell him anything, he knew it was bad when the sun's hands shook like that. The way Belphegor didn't attempt to stab him for a month of the incident, let Fran know how guilty his friend was feeling. Squalo was one of the worst, he alternated between being the soothing rain to the fragile mist and the incredibly guilty captain who avoided his subordinate like the plague.

Eventually, once Fran could speak again, the illusionist explained what exactly happened in that horrible, dark room and what the stab wound was from. It turned out whatever Fulvio coated his blades in made his mist flames violently reject the metal left in his body, warping the blade and making it unrecognisable. Fran wondered if the reaction was meant to happen, it was a good way to get rid of a murder weapon or evidence.

Right now, Fran was content in hopping in his soft, warm bed and sleeping. Tomorrow, he would get up and begin to start training again. He couldn't wait to once again join his famiglia.