Prologue

New York City is wrought with metal, both in plain sight and hidden within nearly every surface. Street signs, cars, the subway…even the buildings are lined with metal skeletons. Beneath the concrete are layers of steel grates and vents, telephone poles and cable wires, systems of rusted pipes and lead tubes flowing with sewage.

Everything is poisoned.

Everything is poison.

I can feel it against my skin. Feel it settling on the surface and slowly burning through, pressing into my blood and contaminating the heart. When I breathe, my lungs fill with fire, my veins itch. God forbid I eat anything cooked in these kitchens. The residue from the pots erodes my esophagus and peels away the lining of my stomach.

There’s no fresh air here. Even out near the ocean, with the sea breeze flowing, the air is bitter and stinging. The water, it’s acidic, polluted by the metal girders of bridges, the hull of ships that flow across it. The spray the wind carries eats away at the skin on my face.

This place is a death-trap.

But this city also has its advantages. It’s very easy to blend in here. It’s very easy to look like one of them, to stay undetected, to be invisible.

Author's Note

Thanks for reading. Feedback is always welcome.