The Pantheon ruin

Cebra looked in one corner of the aged concrete room, there stood some ugly lookin thick forehead goon tall as a grizzly. Looking over in the other corner almost like a fuckin Mario bro was another goon, taller and a bit lanky but still with a dull grim look. In front of Cebra stood Jean-Franco, the almost comedic sized boss of the two lugs looking over Cebra. Cebra himself was bound with shackles to an uncomfortable yet sturdy wooden chair, clearly he was being held there against his will. But how could simple iron shackles hold a high grade metal and energy manipulating cyborg like Cebra? Well the answer might be the device a few rooms away in the warehouse emitting a frequency blocking communication between him and his cybernetics. He was effectively human in this state and frankly was not too fond of it at all... the interrogation continued

"The list you fucking punk, that's all I want you understand?... Then you can go."

"I told you it doesn't exist you rat face asshole."

The man grabs a pair of brass knuckles slowly putting them on and rolling his sleeves up.

"You know when I heard that the Blacksmith, Cebra Ulkenne was in New York well... I just had to know why. Then to hear rumor that you were chasing down the Pantheon list? That was insane, really I gotta say. Even I thought that was just a myth before you came looking."

"I told you I'm not looking for shit! Let me go before I decide to carve you like a turkey!"

The man punches Cebra hard throwing his head to the side, Cebra growls a bit.

"You... ooooooohhhhhh I'm going to literally skin you alive for that."

The man hits Cebra again and again over and over in the face until he starts to spit up blood.

"Now you listen to me Tin man, I've heard better lies from more honest people. I dont wanna hear your bullshit. Now I dont give a shit what kinda hero you like to play back in Seattle or Canada whatever. This is New York and you aint shit here, think you're the only cyberwhatsit freak I've seen? How do you think I knew how to disable your abilities friend?"

"Get fucked you skinny Marlon Brando wannabe."

"Alright I got time we can talk aaaaaaaalllllllllllllll night heh."

Five hours later Cebra lay on the floor still bound to his chair bloody, bruised and looking like absolute shit. It was clear from the injuries the two goons at Jean-Franco's side helped with the interrogation. In the dark and silence Cebra tried to figure a way free of his shackles and how to disable that machine stopping his powers. He also started to understand why other beings in the super game took on partners and apprentices. Cebra was usually alone and solitary at that, he didn't have faith other people with powers would be as competent or willing to do the things he did. He also hated the idea of someone dying for or because of him. The dark of the room crept into his mind becoming a sense of hopelessness, on top of that the Pantheon list was real and now others knew about it. This had the potential to be a disaster for the entire western world. Cebra down in the deepest caverns of his mind prayed that someone would come help him, anyone really.