Barry Cartwright was not a good man. He was a great divorce lawyer, but only because he had no problem bending the truth, twisting the law, and manipulating the system to get his clients what they wanted. Ethics were for people who couldn’t win. In his mind, the only thing that mattered was victory.

  On March 29, 2025, Barry was in the middle of one such victory. The divorce mediation had been dragging on for weeks, but today, he was about to secure an incredibly one-sided settlement in favor of his client, a real estate mogul who wanted to leave his wife penniless. Barry had just presented a particularly damning financial document—one he strongly suspected was forged but didn’t care to verify—when the room darkened.

  Everyone in the room—Barry, his client, the opposing lawyer, and the mediator—paused as the office lights flickered. Outside the large windows of the 37th-floor conference room, New York City dimmed under the shadow of the solar eclipse. The city had been buzzing about the event for weeks, but Barry hadn’t given it a second thought. He had more important things to worry about.

  Then, something strange happened. A sharp pain shot through his skull, like a drill boring into his brain. His vision blurred, his breath hitched, and his body gave out. The last thing Barry heard before he hit the floor was his client shouting his name.

  Three Days Later

  Barry woke up in a hospital bed, his head throbbing. The sterile white walls and the steady beeping of monitors confirmed where he was before he could even process his thoughts.

  A nurse noticed his eyes flutter open and rushed to his side. “Mr. Cartwright! You’re awake. You’ve been in a coma for three days.”

  Barry tried to speak, but his throat felt dry and raw. The nurse handed him a cup of water, which he gulped down greedily.

  “What… happened?” he croaked.

  “They don’t know,” the nurse said, checking his IV. “You collapsed during the solar eclipse. No heart attack, no stroke, no aneurysm—your brain activity just shut down for three days. Then, this morning, it started back up like nothing happened. It’s a medical mystery.”

  Barry groaned. A coma? That was a massive bill waiting to happen. He rubbed his temples and tried to sit up. The nurse gently pushed him back down.

  “We need to run a few tests first,” she said. “Bloodwork, vitals—you know the drill.”

  Barry sighed but nodded. “Fine, just make it quick.”

  The nurse prepped a syringe and rolled up the sleeve of his hospital gown. She wiped down his arm with an alcohol swab and pressed the needle against his skin.

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  The instant the needle pierced his flesh, Barry’s body spasmed.

  A cold, electric sensation shot through him, like liquid metal was flooding his veins. His skin rippled, his muscles locked, and a deep metallic clang echoed through the room as his arm hardened into gleaming, polished steel.

  The nurse screamed and stumbled backward, dropping the syringe. Barry stared in horror as the transformation spread. The steel crawled up his arm, consuming his shoulder, then his chest. His heart pounded—until it didn’t. The EKG machine flatlined. The heart monitor let out a long, droning beep.

  “Code blue! Code blue!” the nurse shrieked, scrambling for the emergency button.

  Barry tried to speak, but his lips had turned to metal. He could feel the weight increasing, his body becoming impossibly dense. The hospital bed groaned under him. His legs fused into steel, his feet warping into heavy metallic slabs.

  The weight became unbearable. With a sickening crunch, the bed collapsed under him, sending him crashing to the floor. The tiles cracked beneath him. He was heavy—too heavy. He tried to lift his arm, and it moved, but slowly, sluggishly, like every motion required ten times the effort it once had.

  He looked down at himself.

  His entire body had transformed into solid, gleaming surgical stainless steel.

  He was living metal.

  The nurse, wide-eyed and trembling, pressed herself against the far wall. The door burst open, and two doctors rushed in. They stopped dead in their tracks.

  “What the—?” one of them gasped.

  Barry took a deep breath—or at least, he tried to. His chest didn’t rise or fall. He realized he no longer needed air.

  “Help me,” he rasped, his voice now a deep, metallic echo.

  The doctors didn’t move.

  Barry gritted his steel teeth and tried to stand. The floor cracked beneath his feet as he rose. His mind reeled. He was a lawyer, not a superhero, not a monster. What was happening to him?

  The hospital staff stared in shock. He could see his reflection in the polished metal of a nearby cabinet—his once-smug face replaced with an expressionless, smooth steel visage.

  A doctor grabbed a stethoscope and pressed it against Barry’s chest. Nothing. No heartbeat, no lungs, no warmth.

  “This… this shouldn’t be possible,” the doctor whispered.

  Barry clenched his steel fists, hearing the metal grind.

  “What the hell happened to me?”

  The Weight of Steel

  Over the next few hours, Barry was subjected to every test the hospital could muster. Bloodwork was impossible—he had no blood. X-rays showed no bones, no organs, just solid metal. An MRI was out of the question; the machine would be destroyed if he got near it.

  His weight was measured at just over a ton—2,200 pounds of living steel. His body temperature was a cool 65 degrees Fahrenheit. His strength was off the charts; when they asked him to grip a pressure gauge, he accidentally crushed it.

  Yet, his mind remained intact. His thoughts were still his own. He was still Barry Cartwright.

  Barry had no answers.

  His life was over. His career, his reputation—none of it mattered now. He was a freak. A literal heavy metal case.

  As night fell, Barry sat alone in his hospital room, now on the ground floor just to be safe.

  He stared at his metallic hands, flexing his fingers.

  He used to win cases by being ruthless, by twisting the truth. But now? Now, he had real power.

  For the first time in his life, Barry Cartwright wondered—what would he do with it?

  Would he fight for justice?

  Or would he do what he had always done—whatever it took to win?

  As the city skyline twinkled outside his hospital window, Barry made a decision.

  He wasn’t going to waste this second chance.

  One way or another, Steel Justice had been served.