Tetsuo: The | Iron Man

The metal didn’t just enter his body; it remembered him. It started with a twitch in Elias’s ring finger—a rhythmic, hydraulic clicking that sounded like a cooling radiator. He thought it was a tremor brought on by too much caffeine and the relentless hum of the city, but when he looked down, the skin was taut and shined with the dull, oily luster of galvanized steel.

By midnight, the apartment felt too small, too organic. The drywall seemed to breathe with a moist, suffocating heat. Elias collapsed against his workbench, his breath coming in ragged, metallic rasps. Every time his heart beat, it sounded like a hammer striking an anvil. Clang. Clang. Clang. Tetsuo: The Iron Man

Should we explore a further, or

He reached for a glass of water, but his hand wouldn't obey. The fingers had fused, elongated into a jagged cluster of copper wiring and rusted rebar. He watched, paralyzed by a mixture of horror and a burgeoning, electric ecstasy, as a television cable snaked out from his wrist and plugged itself into the wall socket. The surge was divine. The metal didn’t just enter his body; it remembered him

"We will turn the world into a storm of steel," the static in his head whispered. He didn't walk into the night; he accelerated. By midnight, the apartment felt too small, too organic

He tried to peel it away, expecting a scab. Instead, he felt the sickening, grinding slide of a piston under his ribs.