Every day, Jade woke up inside a gray, enclosed facility wedged between the mid and lower levels of the city. Each morning, her father would visit, standing at the edge of her bed and asking how she felt.

Before she had even become a teenager, this routine had been accompanied by a large, two-inch needle meant to draw blood. She would cry and scream, begging him to stop, telling him she was scared. But over time, the fear faded. Now, it was just part of the morning procedure.

"It's for your own good, darling," he would say gently before inserting the needle. "If you're sick, I need to know so that I can take care of you."

It was the one warmth she ever felt from her father. He would watch her while she trained, and so she would train as hard as she could to make him proud. But no matter how many hour she spent perfecting her techniques or sparring with other malnourished kids, he never looked up from his clipboard with amazement or even satisfaction.

On weekdays, she would escort her father to a larger facility, where she would sit in a dim waiting room for hours on end. Along the way, they passed street fights, thefts, and drugged-out bodies sprawled across the sidewalks. Her father never slowed down, never acknowledged the chaos around them.

On weekends they would walk the middle-level street markets, and her father would hand her two iron coins to spend. The city's currency was simple. Ten iron to a copper, ten copper to a silver. Receiving it, despite being so meager, felt like she received a fortune.

Perhaps it was because of her bland upbringing- eating nothing but unsalted piles of ground meat and uncooked vegetables with a chemical taste- but she developed a taste for foods others deemed disgusting.

Fried roaches, cooked eels, soggy vegetables.

They had flavor and were a delight compared to the tasteless meat piles she was accustomed to. She especially loved the interior of roaches, soft and bursting with juices, though she could do without the crunchy shell.

The pill with every meal was still a routine while growing up, regardless of what she ate.

Outside of this mundane slice of life, however, nothing else was glamorous.

When she chose to save up for a doll, a street urchin grabbed it and ran. Her father didn't lift a finger. Instead he scolded her for not keeping a firmer grip on what she loved.

A boy screamed while being beaten mercilessly with an iron rod, but father didn't acknowledge it. A woman screamed in a nearby alley, her voice desperate and hoarse, but he didn't turn his head.

He only ever had one comment during those moments.

"You are special. There are thousands of these useless bottom feeders."

Year by year, Jade began to unconsciously agree with her father's words. The people around them—the beggars, thieves, and desperate souls filling the streets—seemed like the "bottom feeders" he described.

That was, until she turned sixteen and her powers finally manifested.

She was practicing alone when she felt it- a surge of energy building rapidly within her chest. It grew stronger and stronger until it finally exploded outward. A massive metal shard, twice her body size, materialized midair and shot forward, embedding itself into the iron wall with a resounding crash.

"You did it, Jade!" her father cried out, tears streaming down his face as he ran toward her. He wrapped her in a tight hug, the warmth of his embrace catching her off guard. "I always knew you were special! I'm so proud of you!"

Jade's body trembled, her muscles aching as though pricked by a thousand tiny needles, but the pain didn't matter. Her sobs escaped in gasps of relief and joy as she clung to him. After years of craving this moment, she finally had his approval.

That night, for the first time, they shared dinner together- a proper meal. The meat was seasoned perfectly, the vegetables tender and flavorful, and even the dessert was sweet enough to leave her speechless. For once, she truly felt like she was his daughter.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

But the warmth didn't last.

The following morning, she tried to summon the giant metal shard again, but only small, dagger-like shards materialized. She froze, dread washing over her as her gaze shifted to her father. His frown deepened as he marked something on his clipboard without saying a word.

Desperation consumed her. She pushed herself harder, meditated longer, and spent countless hours trying to recreate that moment. But despite all her efforts, she only made marginal improvements.

Weeks turned into months, and with each failure, her father's disappointment grew sharper. His comments became crueler. "This isn't the one," he muttered often, his tone laced with disappointment. "Such a waste."

By the time she turned eighteen, any semblance of affection was gone. His disapproval was etched into every look he gave her. On the day she left for the academy, he didn't hug her. He didn't wish her luck, or tell her goodbye.

He just watched her walk out the door as though she were a burden finally being lifted.

And Jade didn't cry. Not that day, nor ever since.

When she arrived at the academy, despite the more vibrant colors of copper and polished insignias- everything still felt gray.

Girls would wave to her, their smiles warm and friendly, but she couldn't bring herself to reciprocate. There was only a hollow void inside her. With each brief interaction, the girls' enthusiasm faded. They began glancing at each other awkwardly, their smiles shrinking until they muttered an excuse and walked away.

When she approached Instructor Fenrik to sign into the assembly, she asked him what advice he had for getting stronger.

"Train with the best to be the best," Fenrik's gruff voice responded. "Stay away from losers who don't train and stay focused."

She took his advice to heart. As she sat in her seat for assembly, her cold and emotionless presence made people exchange uncomfortable glances before turning to talk to anyone else but her.

That didn't bother Jade. She wanted to be left alone.

The assembly itself was boring, and the only thing that stood out was Noland from her own division. The way people hated him, the scorn and disdain they aimed at him, his disconnect from their emotions- something about it resonated with her in that moment.

And she wasn't wrong either. He had a strong sense of rigid, cold sense of justice. He was unforgiving toward those he deemed weak and against those like she had also seen growing up. His relentless pursuit of justice alienated nearly everyone around him.

Sometimes, even Jade felt a little off-put by him.

But he was the best. He trained. He trained diligently and studied without sparing anyone a glance. She often found herself entranced by this dedication- and by the scar on his head, which, oddly, didn't look bad on him.

She knew, however, that she freaked him out just like she did the other students. She just couldn't pin down why.

When she woke up from her lost sparring session, seeing him was the last thing she expected too due to him constantly keeping a distance.

"I'm glad you're okay," Noland said, and his words ripped through her chest like a knife. Images of her father flashed through her mind, and her fists clenched under the hospital covers, forcibly burying the feelings within.

But it was worse when he left.

"You've really gotten stronger," Noland said in a hushed voice, his back facing her. "Be proud of yourself."

When the door closed behind him, Jade broke down, tears spilling as she buried her face in her arms.

Jade found herself unconsciously sticking closer to him after that, and he seemed a little less uncomfortable with her presence too. She felt traces of happiness resurface as they neared the end of their time at the Academy.

When they graduated, she cared very little for the ceremony itself and Noland closely. Barely acknowledging the two others behind them, all that mattered in that moment was sticking close to him.

Jack and Alice left a decent impression on her. She felt that they were competent at the very least. Her expectations of fieldwork, however, were completely shattered as she watched a boy writhing and screaming in pain, dying in the Chemical Sea.

Nor did she expect Jack and Noland to be so cold, or Alice so strangely compassionate. She couldn't show weakness though, so she pushed Alice away.

Jade needed to stay strong, to stick with the best.

Once again though, her views of the Iron Veil guard and Noland began to shift.

Noland, hellbent on justice, acted exactly as she predicted whenever he sensed crime or injustice. Whenever they approached a house for inspection, he approached it like a predator hunting prey- direct, aggressive, and unwavering.

During one of the last cluster inspections of the day, however, he became especially agitated. She saw the small heads of children peeking out of the window after they'd left and something twisted inside her.

Her inner conflict deepened with the conflict between Jack and Noland, shattering her view of the Iron Veil.

The Iron Veil wasn't protecting everyone. They weren't ensuring peace. They were just managing the chaos.

Back at the headquarters, Jade sat on her bunk while preparing for bed, her face grim. Doubts swirled around inside her like a storm. Her father chose this path for her, but is this what she really wanted?

Her spiraling thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice.

"I understand what you're feeling. Don't worry, you'll get used to it." Alice's said gently.

Jade didn't respond. She ignored her and laid down, staring at the wall.

Too many thoughts and feelings were racing through her mind for her to untangle. Having a conversation about it was the last thing she wanted to do right now.

Instead, she closed her eyes, hoping the swirling doubts would vanish with sleep.