///Warning: Depictions of Graphical Violence and Alcoholism in this novel and plenty of disturbing elements. Some chapters will be marked.///

Waking up with a hangover is never fun.

Headache, nausea, sensitive to sound and light.

"What's going on?" Noland groaned, struggling to open his eyes. His body felt heavy and his eyes burned, despite having them closed.

Something felt off, this wasn't his bed or chair- nor was it the floor. He was at an angle too.

He reached out around him, trying to grasp onto something familiar.

"Agh!" Noland hissed, his left hand recoiling in pain as he felt something sharp ripped into his flesh. "What the fuck?"

His head jerked in response to the pain, wincing again as something sharp cut the back of his head.

Snapping his eyes open, he froze in confusion. He didn't recognize the cold, desolate environment around him.

Well, perhaps it was cold.

Metal walls towered meters high around him with metal grating allowing in a dim, grey light. Exposed and rusted gears and pipes drizzled neon green and sickly orange with faint steam rising out.

Looking around carefully, there was just trash. Piles of trash and he was partially buried in it.

Neon green and sickly orange puddled around, bubbling and hissing as steam rose.

'What was in my drink?' Noland thought, grimacing as he carefully sat up.

He sat there for some time, trying to find himself. It didn't work. His head hurt, he was hungry, and a little pissed off for no real reason.

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Shifting his gaze down, he was still wearing his uniform. Black cargo pants, black shirt, black jacket, gloves- everything leather black.

Perhaps it had a few too many steampunk accessories though.

The only identifier on him was on his shoulders, which had golden trim with the words 'Iron Veil' and '1' stitched in.

Noland was part of the Veil Guard, peacekeepers of the southern quadrant of the Iron City.

This was his first night out celebrating his eighteenth birthday, old enough to legally drink, but he got carried away mixing different liquors.

Now, he was at the bottom of a scrap pit.

Screeeetch

Noland's head snapped up to the sound of the metal grate moving above, followed by the sight of scrap falling without regard for what- or whom- was below.

"Wait! I'm down here!" Noland shouted but it was too late.

Noland tried to scramble out from the pile, but his pitch-black clothing got caught, and he was struck on the back of the head. 

With his vision blurring and darkening, he fell forward to the floor- the side of his face creating a small 'splotch' sound as it impacted the ground.

"Is this the one who yelled?" Hazy, distant voices brought him back to consciousness. "What's a Veil Guard cadet doing down here..."

The side of his face above the cheekbone burned viciously as he lifted himself up with a groan.

"Fuck..." Noland cursed as he rose to one knee, clutching it in pain.

"Sir?" An uncertain voice called out. "Why were you in the pit?"

A different voice added on with guilt, "We didn't mean to! We were just cleaning up the streets and this is the normal place to dump garbage."

Noland's gaze snapped up to the two boys, probably not even teenagers, frozen stiff.

He assumed, with a snarl, that they were responsible.

Rising to his full height, he slowly walked toward them and they shrunk back from his imposing form, too scared to move.

"Sir? We're sorry- GAH!"

The boy's apology was cut off with a strangled yelp as Noland seized him by the scruff and lifted him into the air.

"Hey! We're sorry, it was an accident!" his friend cried, pulling at Noland's arm but to no avail.

Noland's other hand pressed firmly against the boy's head, palm covering the exact spot where his own skin still burned.

The child thrashed violently, eyes shut in fear before Noland dropped him, sighing with frustration instead.

Noland was already walking toward the exit tunnel by the time the boy opened his eyes.

"Are you okay?" A hushed, scared whisper echoed from behind him.

'Brats...' Noland grumbled. 'Harming their protectors- they're lucky they're just kids.'

A quick glance down at one of his accessory watches tied to his jacket however had him sighing exasperatedly.

"I'm going to be late for my first day at the academy."