Freedom was a shock. Hitting concrete was a bigger one. But years of training were designed for moments like these; even as his arms caught fire from shoulders to fingertip, as half-healed burns stretched and split beneath taped linen, as Genma fell and the door opened with a grate of moving metal, Raidou was trying to get back to his feet.

He made it to his knees, braced on his palms, before Green-eyes grabbed him by the throat and slammed him back down. A knee drove into the small of his back.

"Should've stayed asleep, pretty boy," hissed the voice next to his ear.

Raidou didn't waste breath on a response. He slapped tingling hands together, desperate to form seals while he could. A clone--he needed a clone. His fingers twisted, forced through the right shapes. Genma's yellow-brown eyes fixed on his for a flickering second. Chakra roared under his skin--

Weasel stamped down on one wrist and kicked his other hand away. "None of that."

The half-formed jutsu collapsed in a backwash of chakra, lashing into his coils. Raidou jerked and tried to yank his hands back, bring a knee up. He twisted beneath Green-eye's hold, ripping bandages away as concrete rasped against skin, and never saw the fist aimed at his jaw until it connected.

When the world came back, bringing brand new hurts, Green-eyes was straddling his back, holding his hands in a chakra-laced grip, Weasel had his head yanked hard to one side, facing the room, and Sago's booted foot was pressed down on Genma's throat.

"Stop struggling," said the big man quietly, "or I'll snap his neck."

Raidou froze.