Victor stands over him, his metal faceplate and gloves discarded somewhere along the way, though the silver veins mar his skin, shining like silver in the light that plays across his damp skin. They've been here - wherever here is - for hours, maybe days. Reed's lost all track of time and his body is worn down, put through every test Victor could devise, stretched to his point of endurance. He hasn't made a sound, and he knows that's what Victor's waiting for, but it's the one thing Reed can't give him.

"You're losing control, Reed." Victor's voice is rough, the torture taking its toll on him as well. "You're tired. Weak."

"No." Reed manages to lift himself on one elbow, his neurons misfiring and sending pain ratcheting along his spine. He feels it everywhere and sways from the overload of sensations. "No, Victor. You c-can bend me, but I won't break."