Barry Cartwright had spent his life twisting the law in his favor, manipulating people, and doing whatever it took to win. But now, as he sat on the remains of a hospital bed he had accidentally crushed under his own weight, he realized that none of his usual tricks would help him.

  He was no longer just a man—he was something else. Something heavy. Something powerful. Something unnatural.

  His entire body had transformed into surgical stainless steel, smooth and cold, yet he could still move, still feel in a strange, distant way. The hospital staff, afraid of what he had become, kept their distance. Only one nurse, a woman named Julia, dared to approach him.

  “You said you wanted to call someone?” she asked, clutching a phone in her hands. She was nervous—her fingers trembled as she spoke—but she was doing her best to keep her composure.

  Barry nodded slowly, careful not to move too much. Every slight motion sent tremors through the floor, leaving deep cracks in the tiles.

  “My sister,” he said, his voice metallic and hollow. “Mary Cartwright. Her number is in my phone in my suit jacket pocket. I need you to unlock my phone and call her for me.”

  Julia hesitated. “You… might not want her to see you like this.”

  Barry let out a sound that might have been a chuckle if it weren’t distorted by his new form. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

  After a moment, Julia nodded and left the room.

  Mary’s Arrival

  An hour later, Barry heard footsteps approaching. They were heavier than the nurses’ or doctors’—purposeful and fast.

  Then, a familiar voice: “Where is he? Where’s my brother?”

  “Miss Cartwright, please, calm down—”

  “I will not calm down! My baby brother is in here, and no one will tell me what the hell is going on!”

  Barry turned his head, hearing the door burst open. And there she was—Mary Cartwright, his older sister, the only person in the world who had ever looked out for him.

  She froze in the doorway, her face twisting into an expression of pure shock.

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  “…Barry?”

  He tried to smile, but his steel face didn’t move the way he wanted. “Hey, sis.”

  Mary took a step forward, her hands covering her mouth. Her wide brown eyes darted over him, from the massive dents in the floor beneath his feet to the way his metallic body reflected the dim hospital lighting.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered. “What happened to you?”

  Barry shifted uncomfortably. The entire hospital had been asking the same question, but no one had an answer.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “One second, I was in a meeting, and the next, I was in a coma. I woke up three days later, a nurse tried to draw blood, and then… this happened.” He gestured vaguely at himself. “Steel man. No heartbeat. No blood. Just me. Still thinking, still talking, still here.”

  Mary blinked rapidly, as if trying to force her brain to process the impossible sight before her.

  “No,” she finally said. “No, this doesn’t just happen, Barry. People don’t just—just turn into metal!”

  Barry let out a slow sigh. “Trust me, I’ve been over it a thousand times. It’s real. It’s happening. And I need your help.”

  Mary shook her head. “I don’t—Barry, what am I supposed to do?”

  “For starters, I need some clothes.”

  Mary flinched. “Clothes?”

  Barry gestured at himself. “Do you see what I’m wearing?”

  Mary’s lips twitched. He was still in the torn remnants of a hospital gown, barely covering his massive metallic frame. The absurdity of the request—so normal in such an abnormal situation—broke through her shock.

  “Right,” she muttered. “Clothes. I’ll go to your place and grab some.”

  “Thanks, sis.”

  Too Much Strength

  An hour later, Mary returned with a duffel bag of Barry’s clothes. She tossed it on the hospital bed—or what was left of it.

  “I brought a few options,” she said, crossing her arms. “Not that I know if they’ll even fit.”

  Barry reached for the bag, but as soon as his fingers touched the fabric, the entire thing tore open like wet tissue paper. Clothes spilled onto the floor, ripped apart by the sheer force of his grip.

  “Shit,” Barry muttered.

  Mary’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh… was that supposed to happen?”

  Barry clenched his fists, feeling the immense strength in his new body. “I don’t think I can control it.”

  Carefully, he reached for one of the shirts. He tried to be gentle, but the moment he grasped the fabric, it shredded in his hands.

  He frowned. “Well. That’s a problem.”

  Mary rubbed her temples. “Great. My brother’s made of metal and can’t even put on a shirt without destroying it. This just keeps getting better.”

  Barry sighed. “I don’t think I can feel pressure the same way anymore. Everything is too light. Like I don’t know my own strength.”

  Mary ran a hand through her hair. “Alright. We’ll figure something out.”

  She looked around the hospital room, then walked over to the metal IV stand in the corner. “Let’s test something.”

  She grabbed the IV stand and held it out. “Take this from me. Slowly.”

  Barry hesitated. “Are you sure?”

  “Just do it.”

  Barry reached out, focusing as hard as he could on being gentle. He grasped the IV stand, barely applying any pressure.

  The metal crumpled like foil in his hand.

  Mary’s eyes widened. “Holy shit.”

  Barry groaned. “This is bad.”

  Mary looked down at the destroyed IV stand, then back at her brother. “Yeah, Barry. This is really bad.”

  No Answers, Only Questions

  Mary stormed out of the room, demanding answers from the doctors. She grilled them, her voice sharp with frustration.

  “How does a man turn into metal overnight?” she snapped at one of the physicians. “How does he move? How does he talk? Does he even have a brain anymore? Is he alive? Is he dead? What the hell is going on?”

  The doctors looked helpless. One of them—a middle-aged man with glasses—rubbed his temples.

  “We don’t know,” he admitted. “We’ve never seen anything like this. His body shouldn’t be functioning. He shouldn’t be standing, let alone talking. As far as medical science is concerned, this is impossible.”

  Mary clenched her jaw. “That’s not an answer.”

  “It’s the only one we have.”

  Furious, Mary returned to Barry’s room. She slumped into a chair, rubbing her forehead.

  “They don’t know anything,” she muttered. “Not a damn thing.”

  Barry nodded. “Figured as much.”

  Mary sighed. “What do we do now?”

  Barry was silent for a long moment. Then, he stood up, the floor cracking beneath him.

  “We figure out what I am.”

  Mary looked up at him. “And if we can’t?”

  Barry turned toward the window, staring at the city beyond.

  “Then I figure out what to do with this.” He flexed his steel fingers, feeling the immense power in his body.