4.5
[?. ?. ?. The previous evening.]
Through the ringing of his splitting headache, Vyro could hear the sound of deliberate and even footsteps. He began to open his eyes but still couldn't see; something was covering his head. The footsteps stopped. "Awake, are we?" an older voice asked. Vyro did not respond. "Maybe not all the way." Vyro choked and sputtered as the man threw a bucket of cold water onto his face. "Hope that helps."
Vyro tried to speak but found he was gagged underneath. He began to panic, rocking back and forth in the chair he was tied to. The man put a hand on his shoulder. "Quiet down, kid. I'm not here to hurt you." Vyro's breathing slowed and he began to relax. Just as his heart rate returned to something considered normal, he felt the sharp thud in his stomach of a swift punch radiate like shattered glass throughout his body. Vyro cried out in pain through his gag. "I'm here to break you."
"I saw you today, back in Vermillion City. You took on that boy and lost." The man ripped the bag of Vyro's head. Vyro flinched in the light. As his eyes adjusted, he could make out the image of an older man, with a thick moustache and rolled sleeves. A coat and hat hung up on a pipe; a briefcase rested on a desk. "Even a fool such as you has uses." He cracked his knuckles and threw a wicked right hook at Vryo's face. The masked supervillan whimpered as his face began to swell up. "And my employer has need of someone of your…tenacity."
Vyro's nose was bleeding. The man moved to eye level with the captive. Vyro looked into his eyes and saw nothing, not even age.
"What do you know about bombs?"