Alchemist of Metals

Julian woke up to the sound of rain tapping against the window. The room was dark and cold, though his blanket was warm. For a second, he thought, he was dreaming. Everything felt wrong, quiet in a way that made his chest tighten.

He turned his head. His mother was standing beside his bed. She didn't move, didn't speak, just stared down at him with tired eyes.

"Julian," she whispered. "Come." 

Her voice shook a little.

There was no time to ask questions. Without a word of explanation, she helped him into his jacket, her hands freezing and shivering as she forced him out into the empty, marble hallway. The whispers echoed from the shadows as the maids bowed and moved past.

"Why him? Why not the brother?"

"He's weak. He won't survive it."

"The main house ordered it."

Outside, black suited servants waited by a car in the pouring rain. Kneeling in the mud, his mother gripped his shoulders, her voice breaking as she said, "You're going to the training center the main family built... Please be strong and make us proud." 

Before he could ask why his twin brother was spared, she turned away, her last good bye through the rain looking desperate.

The car door slammed shut with a dull thunk, taking him into silence until his consciousness faded.

When his eyes snapped open, a bright light slammed onto them.

The cold metal strapped tight against his arms and legs, pinning him down inside a transparent glass box. Around him, a vast hall echoed with the terrified screams and weeping of dozens of other children trapped in identical straps like him.

And then pairs of boots clicked against the floor together in a rhythm. A tall, stone faced man strode to the center of the room, flanked by armed guards.

"Children of Zoldyck, Welcome to the Trial of Metal," the man announced, his voice passing cleanly through the chaos. "In front of you, under the cover, there is a dismantled revolver. Remove the cover."

With a clicking sound, the arm restraints unlocked. Julian's hands trembled vehemently as he lifted the cover. The gun parts were scattered across the table like broken bones. Across the transparent partition, another terrified boy stared down at the same gun parts.

"You can't do this!" a boy from a wealthy branch screamed, slamming his cover shut. "My grandfather's an elder—!"

Bang!

The gunshot pierced him before he completed his sentence. The boy fell forward onto the table, his pants staining with blood as the terror of death filled the room.

The man didn't even blink. "He knew. Now you do. Your task is simple. Assemble the revolver. Kill the child in front of you before they kill you. That’s all."

The panic instantly filled across the hall. Another gunshot echoed, followed by the wet splash of blood against glass.

"Every twenty seconds without a gunshot, another pair dies. You have thirty minutes, now begin!"

Julian gasped, his chest heaving against the straps as his thoughts screamed. Across from him, the other boy was frantically fumbling with the gun parts. Julian forced his shaking hands to move, grabbing parts, trying to assemble them before the other child did.

Bang!

A bullet shattered the side of the glass partition between them. Julian jerked back in shock, his handful of bullets slipping from his fingers and rolling across the table.

The boy in front of him smiled viciously, raising his weapon for a clean kill. Julian had no bullets left on his side, trapped and out of time.

One shot. His eyes locked onto a single bullet resting near the edge of the table. With one shot... I can survive.

Born like a ghost in the Zoldyck household, locked away because he was a weak body, Julian had spent years playing with toy guns and studying revolvers under his father's strict, merciless drills. He had never lost an assembly test.

Julian lunged forward instantly, and slammed the final bullet into the gun magazine before snapping it shut, and held the gun. He aimed slightly aside, his hands shivering. The opponent’s confidence broke for a second and in that second, Julian pulled the trigger.

Bang!

The boy collapsed, blood pooling across the surface. Julian dropped the gun, his breath becoming dry because of fear and disdain. He had killed someone. A kid just like him.

As more gunshots echoed through the chamber, sheer pain suddenly ripped through Julian's skull.

The blueprints, metalwork numbers, the roar of factory machines, and the steady, older voice of a seasoned weapons engineer filled across his thoughts like a wild storm. He can feel the smell of machinery oil and frantical thoughts of machines in his mind.

Memories of a past life… a life spent designing tools for war lingered slowly deep inside his mind.

This… is a…a memory, Julian gasped, gripping the table edge as the visions faded. His eyes twitched, giving way to a dangerous, predatory resolve.