My name is Iron.
I was born poor. Useless. Alone.
This world has never made me a single promise. It didn't even look at me.
I spent 17 years surviving in the face of disregard and contempt.
No love. No role model to follow. No light to guide me.
Only concrete, the cold, fear.
And me.
An ordinary face. A medium build, with a round face.
But behind every reflection in the mirror, I only saw what everyone agreed on: a void.
One mistake too many. A walking statistic.
My mom berated me constantly for money I haven't even earned yet.
I had to work two jobs at 15 to be able to stay in that tiny room that served as my bedroom.
My "friends" saw me as a dead weight.
They never thought much of me, just a punching bag to make fun of, to hone jokes on.
But, pathetically trapped in a desire to maintain social ties, I restrained myself from saying anything.
And days went by. Always the same.
I had no dream, or at least none I could reach on my own, all that awaited me was work in the mines of Work Town. All I was left with was tiredness. A fatigue that bit me from the inside like rust.
And then… that evening came.
I wasn't walking. I was dragging myself along.
Head down, slumped posture, fuzzy thoughts.
No headphones. No music. Just… me.
And the noise of the world that didn't want me there.
I heard the screech. Too late
Saw the headlights. Too close
And then: nothingness
I woke up in a white room. Too white.
A flawless ceiling, without a mark, without life.
And the pain…
No. Worse. The absence.
The absence of my legs. Of my right hand. Of my left eye.
The doctor recited his report like an accounting machine.— Amputation. Nerve damage. Irreversible injuries.
He could have been reading a cooking tutorial, it would've been the same.
I didn't cry.
I didn't scream.
What's the point ?
Over the next few days, I had visitors.
First, my mother.
She looked as if I were a broken piece of furniture she still had to pay off.
She threw a few words at me like hammer blows:
— See where your pathetic life has led you ? Pff… You'd have been better off dead, you're good for nothing. My life would've been so different if I hadn't brought you into this world.
The neighbor's son, on the other hand, showers her with gifts… and me, what do I have ? A pig… and disabled to boot.
She left as quickly as she had come. Not even a glance back.
She used to spout this kind of stuff, so it sounded like a familiar symphony to my ears.
Then the "friends".
At least, that's what I'm trying to convince myself to believe.
— You were already screwed man. At least now, there'll be people who really have no choice but to take care of you. Hahaha
— You want us to flush down the toilet too ?
— Creepy, man… and with your weight, they'll get their weekly workout. So mean ! Hahaha
— Does it hurt or not ?
With every word, a part of me crumbled to dust.
I wasn't considered human anymore. I was a grotesque creation of divine cruelty.
And then, night fell.
The kind of night where even the shadows are afraid to show themselves.
Not a sound, except for the hum of neon lights.
Just me. And what was left of me.
Which wasn't much, to put it mildly.
That's when he appeared.
I sensed him before I even saw him.
A presence. Heavy. Inevitable.
He emerged from the dark corner of the room. A slender figure. Upright. Light and
measuring emerald eyes.
And that smile…Terrifying. Was it death, finally deciding to free me from my chains ?
He looked at me the way one looks at a dog.
Then he spoke. Softly.
But his words cut deep into my soul.
— A meaningless life, filled with regrets, with no one to rely on. Life hasn't been kind to you, has it ? Is this… the life you wanted ?
A moment passes.
I don't answer.
I chuckle. Then a mad laugh overtakes me.
I pound my stumps against the mattress. I spit blood. I laugh again and again.
Because that's all I have left. I'm indifferent to pain.
And the absurdity of his situation leaves me speechless.
Then I answer him:
— Kehehe, this life ?
If only I could die, I would, so come and free me from this miserable life.
He's not smiling anymore.
—…Oh, so death is your only wish ? Then maybe I got the wrong person.
He turns on his heel.
But I scream:
— Wait !
He stops.
— You think you can just show up, judge me, and walk away ?
Ever since I was born, my life has been a fucking hell. I have nothing, yet I endure
everything. The world rejects me but won't leave me alone !!!
Do you think I asked for this, monster ?!!
Silence.
Then he smiled. Differently. Darker. More genuine.
— You know nothing of Hell, rejected child. Nothing of the true coldness of powerlessness.
Nor of the fear of losing a loved one.
You are just a specter begging to be saved, yet you know nothing.
He steps forward. And this time, I see..
He is not a monster.He is… human.
Too human.
But everything about him is elevated: his voice, his posture, his physique.
He bows. With an almost theatrical slowness.
— Simon Vongold.
And for you… I may be your fortunate benefactor.
A series of explanations followed, troubling to say the least. He talks about a world I do not know.
A world above the world.
A hidden theater above the stage.
He tells me of the true great ones of this world.
He talks about the Thorn.
A power forgotten by mankind.
A living growth. An inner rebellion that has granted men unimaginable gifts since the dawn of time. But now forgotten by all.
And at the top, a dynasty.
The Montclaires.
Their Patriarch: Valerius.
Their organization has controlled everything that exists for far too long: revolutions, conflicts, the politics of the world.
He hands me a card. Black. Nameless.
A simple engraving: an inverted crown.
— Here is your chance, Iron.
If you agree to follow me, I will free you from your torments and show you what it means to live, to feel whole. Isn't that what you've always desired ?
You will become our weapon.
An heir.
The suffering you carry is a source of fuel we haven't really had in a while.
We need new blood.
And you will beat our name.
You will adopt our style.
I look at the card.
I think about my life.
About my missing legs. My dead hand. My gouged eye.
I think about my mother. My so-called "friends".
To my social coffin.
I don't know what awaits me, nor why all this is happening.But strangely, I believe it. I have a hunch. No, a conviction.
If I don't seize this absurd opportunity, I'll regret it.
And I decided.
I clench my fist. Determined.
— So Iron, are you ready to live a life of dignity and without regret, where glory and power may await you !!
A thought crosses my mind.
Regrets ? I've had more than my share.
The world I know expected nothing from me.
This society gave me no rest.
And now, here is a being claiming to belong to true leaders of this world, offering me a place in their world.
— I accept.
He clasped his hands.
And the pain returned.
But it was a different kind of pain.
A deliverance.
An awakening of the soul.
My body is burning. My marrow is being torn out. My skull is screaming.
I see the world cracking.
And in the cracks, a light.
Or perhaps, a darkness clearer than anything I've ever seen.
The pain squeezes a terrible scream for me.
I become something else.
I become what I should've been from the start.
When I open my eyes again, my left eye can see.
My right arm trembles, but it's there.
My legs… thin. Frail. But alive.
Simon is looking at me.
— Welcome,
"Iron Vongold".
Simon didn't give me time to breathe. No time to understand.He approached the bed, his silhouette outlined by the harsh glow of the neon light. I wanted to speak, but his gaze pinned me in place. A gaze too intense to belong to a simple man.
He placed two fingers on my chest. Right above my heart. His touch was cold. A coldness that didn't come from the skin, but from the soul.
— First and foremost, my boy, the Thorn has always been within you, just as it is in all men, he said. So always remember… that power has always belonged to you.
I didn't understand. I opened my mouth to reply. But before the words could come out, his hand vibrated.
As if his heart was pounding against mine from the inside.
A shock. A tremor. And the pain.
A pain I had never believed possible. Not that of a broken bone, or of a blade piercing my flesh. No… a pain that tears the entire being apart. As if every fiber of my flesh were turning against me. As if my blood was burning to transform into another fluid, unknown, corrosive.
I screamed.
A guttural, animalistic scream tore from my throat. My back arched. My hands struck the
mattress, curling like claws. My teeth bit into my tongue, and the taste of iron filled my mouth.
The room shook. The neon lights crackled, casting wild flashes across the walls. The floor vibrated beneath my body as if the entire hospital refused to endure what was awakening within me.
I saw.
Not with my eyes. With something else.
Lines. Cracks. Invisible fractures running through the air, the walls, the objects. As if the
world was nothing but a cracked glass ready to shatter. And at the center of these fractures, a void. Dark red. Golden. Thrilling.
I wanted to reach out towards this vision. But immediately, the pain intensified. My skull split open as if an invisible hammer had struck it. I screamed again.
Simon, for his part, said nothing.
His fingers were still resting on my chest. But his face had changed. His eyes had widened in surprise. As if what he was seeing exceeded what he had anticipated.
— Incredible, he murmured.
His voice was no longer steady. It was trembling.The pain continued. Waves. Tsunamis that crushed me and rebuilt me in the same second.
My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would burst. My veins were bursting beneath my skin, swollen with an energy I couldn't control.
And then, a crack.
I thought it was my bones. But no. It was something else. The air. Space.
A flash burst before my eyes: a crack in the void. No bigger than a hand. Dark red, edged with golden light. Like an open scar in the world.
I screamed, reached out my hand… and the fracture faded away.
Silence fell. Abruptly.
I collapsed back into my bed, gasping, drenched in sweat. My body was still vibrating, like a broken instrument that continues to resonate.
Simon stepped back.
For the first time, he seemed almost human. Almost worried.
He stared at me for a long time. His lips trembled slightly, as if his thoughts were too numerous to find their way out of his mouth.
— Interesting.
I didn't understand a thing. All I knew was that I was in pieces. I wanted to speak, but my throat was nothing but a scorched desert.
Simon looked away. His hand was still trembling, discreetly.
— Your Thorn has awakened. But its manifestation is unusual. It's not usually this demonstrative.
He took a breath, regained his composure. His mask returned.
— Listen to me carefully, Iron. You will not use this power now. Not tomorrow. Not in a week.
Your body isn't ready. If you try… it will destroy you.
He picked up the medallion he'd left on the table and placed it in my hands, still clenched by spasms.
— You'll learn, Iron. But not with me. And not here.
His eyes darkened.
— And I have the perfect candidate.He stepped back, straightened his coat. His voice, firm once more, rang out like a verdict.
— Take a moment to breathe. When you get out of that bed, you'll never be just another human again. You'll be a figure in this world.
Then he left.
I stayed there, breathless, trembling, my throat dry.
In the silence of the room, I stared at my hands.
They hadn't changed at all.
And yet… everything had changed.
How had he done that ? It was the stuff of science fiction, and I wasn't done being surprised yet.
The pain had subsided, but it still lurked in my bones like a fire that hadn't been fully extinguished. Every breath reminded me that I was no longer the same. But I wasn't anything else yet, either. A state in between. A living fracture.
Simon stood there, in the shadow of the neon light. His gaze no longer belonged to me. It was searching for something else, something further away, as if he was already weighing the burden of what he had just awakened.
He finally broke the silence.
— Let's go now. But know this, Iron: your old life died tonight. If you keep mourning it, you'll be buried with it.
His words stuck harder than the pain.
Then he turned towards the door and, without asking if I could walk, he said:
— Come.
I hesitated. My legs were shaking. My heart was pounding like a hammer.
But I got up. Not by choice. Because staying down would've been worse than dying.
Every step tore me apart, but I walked. Simon didn't slow down, didn't look back. As if he knew that if I fell, I'd have to get back up on my own.
We crossed the hallway. The neon lights flickered. The nurses, frozen, watched us as if they were seeing a ghost ride from its grave. No words, no gestures. Just their eyes, wide, full of fear or incomprehension.
The automatic doors opened. And the night air slapped against my face. Cold, brutal, almost cutting. I stopped for a second. It was the first time I'd breathed outside since the accident.
Everything had changed. Or maybe it was me.
The sky hung low, heavy with thick clouds. Streetlights cast yellow halos onto the wet
pavement. Every reflection in the puddles showed me a face I didn't recognize.
Simon stepped onto the sidewalk. I followed him.
He stopped under a streetlight and pulled a black car from his pocket. The same one as
before. Engraved with a single symbol: an inverted crown.
He handed it to me.
I took the card. It was ice-cold, too heavy for its size. A weight I could already feel anchoring itself in my palm.
Simon stared at me for a long time, his eyes burning with an intensity I had never seen
before.
— Remember this night. Because tomorrow, it will no longer exist.
Then he walked away.
I followed him.
Behind me, this hospital faded away like a bad dream.
Ahead of me, an abyss I didn't yet understand.
But at the bottom of that abyss, for the first time in my life, I thought I saw a spark.
A spark that was anything but human.