[Funkduder]

Michael tried to sit up as he laid in the alleyway. The clusters of bruises on him made it obvious that h was i a recent fight, although the fact of the matter was that all of the bruises came from inanimate objects. That didn't mean that he wasn't in a fight, but just that the fighters never physically touched him.
After he left Dante to get help from the armory, he went eastward attempting to double back towards the tavern, and after a larger loop of traveling, that's exactly what he was allowed to do.
Unfortunately, by the time he reached the tavern, his mother and father had long figured out a strategy to deal with his psychic block. Boxes, trash bins, pipes, and anything else that was solid enough was tossed at Michael by telekinetic force. Although he had his shield of psychic force as well, whenever he used it, he was immediately nailed with a headache-evoking attack at his mentality.
Now he was getting tired, too tired as he finally slipped and fell into the alleyway that he now laid in. His parents were less than a minute away.
"Half a minute away. 20 seconds away..." As his parents finally jumped down to converse with him before taking him away like the scum they were he noticed something interesting...something funny, almost. His mother had a hole in her heart and was using psychic power to replace the force that her heart used to make.
"Congratulations. You are officially a monster," Michael said. Too weak to uphold his psychic block any longer he was tossed onto a wall. Michael laughed as he choked on some blood from inside his bloody lips. Grinning he looked up, realizing that he was not alone to face his foe anymore. Whether he decided to help or was ordered to, he did not know, but after seeing his face peaking out from the rooftop, he knew that the bolt came from Lev, The Guman of Tsavo.
He shielded his mind to hide that fact from his captors. Even if he could not protect his body, he knew that the greatest asset of a psychic was his mind.