Chapter Text
Sebastian always looked refined, stiff, poised. Even in the midst of battle he rarely made any moves that weren't shockingly elegant and restrained. He would crumble buildings with the flick of a wrist, dodge blows by stepping into a portal and appear right behind you. He rarely even struck with his own hands; though it seemed he probably knew well how to hold his own without his powers, he used whatever telekinesis ability he had to completely control the entire playing field. The most Lily had ever seen him move was when he caught Isa's fist- it shocked the whole team. He didn't even budge, like the five-hundred-some pounds of force she was well-known to muster meant nothing.
This image was so ingrained in Lily's head, that when she saw the video footage, she didn't even believe it was him. Ragged breaths between screams, pained gasps and retching, begging for a moment of rest. Chained to a cellar wall, filthy, crouched. The man was unrecognizable. His captor wielded a strange and unique device -- a gun designed to feed off of the life force of people, or animals, and use that energy as ammunition. This villain had somehow captured the most powerful, feared supervillain in the country, and was using him like an unlimited battery. The gun wasn't harmless in any way--being drained by it wasn't usually lethal, but it could be extremely painful and exhausting. Sebastian had been subjected to it several times in any given week for six months straight.
When they found him, only scraps of his armor remained. Without it, they would've been clueless as to who he even was. Lilly got to work trying her best to heal him, but was met with mystery after mystery. As unbelievable as it was, the same anatomy that granted him an extraordinarily long life had sealed his fate.
When the team found him, he was quiet.
Despite his weird bones, extra internal organs (and maybe some missing?), and oddly dense masses in his back, she was able to do enough good to stabilize him. Whether it was because of the damage done to his vocal chords or just his crappy mood, he didn't speak for weeks. For nearly two months, the only sounds he would muster were squeaky, pained groans and coughs, and he looked just as pitiful as he sounded.