Novel & Cerita Metal Knuckles

My head rings, and my vision blurs from the strike. My ears ring as I fumble on the ground. What the hell? His hits are hard, too hard. I look at his gloves and notice the tape around his knuckles outlining more than knuckles. Faint gold shining through split tape I realize why he's hitting with such force. He has fucking brass knuckles on! "Hey!" I yell at the guy standing outside the ring, trying to inform him of the knuckles. I run to the other side of the ring, wiping and smearing blood from my eye from my face.

Sleep State Confirmed. Marcus opened his eyes. The Chrome Diamonds gleamed in the dim light. He raised his hands, staring at the faded, blood-stained athletic tape wrapped around his knuckles. Slowly, silently, he let his silver mana bleed out from his core, soaking into the fabric. The tape shifted, turning into a metallic, liquid state. The Liquid Silver hardened, forming invisible, dense brass knuckles over his skin.

She deserved another raise. "Okay, let's see this baby," he said as he reached for the envelope opener in his drawer and cut through the box. He pulled out the brass knuckles and held them up, fascinated by how they glowed a rich bronze colour under the downlights. They were cold and heavy in his hands when he slipped them on. Not at all what he'd expected. But then again, what the hell did he expect from a weapon so barbaric? He flexed his hands, clenching and unclenching his fists as he repeated the motions a few times until he was used to the brass knuckles and felt confident enough he could punch someone without hurting himself in the process.

Kaelen countered softly, her eyes shifting to my right arm. The permanent star-silver bracer fused to my skin was glowing a dull, rhythmic blue, casting long, eerie shadows across the stone floor. It felt lighter now, less like a foreign restriction and more like an organic extension of my skeletal structure. The black veins on my hand pulsed in perfect sync with the metal, drawing in the ambient cold of the room and converting it into a low, buzzing static at the base of my skull.

The absolute, terrifying resurrection of the King had violently begun. He aggressively raised his completely shattered left arm, aggressively encased entirely in the heavy, stiff fiberglass cast. With a completely ruthless, terrifyingly brute force, he violently slammed the heavy, solid fiberglass directly against the thick, rusted iron buckle violently securing the heavy leather straps at the absolute back of his heavily bruised skull.

This was enough only to see the pointed tips of the ears sticking out just above the head and somewhat resembling horns. He involuntarily clenched his fists and immediately noticed that the nails were very sensitively stuck in his palms. His fingers had to be straightened, he froze, looking at his own hands. The fingers remained quite human, but their tips were covered with horny plates, ending instead of nails with sharp spikes, more like needles. From the middle of the hand, like bracers, silvery scales rose up the arm and safely disappeared under the sleeve of the jacket, making one wonder where this innovation ends. - Kim?!

Those aren’t Kronos’s… it’s Rumelia’s— BAM! I managed to block a right-hook punch from that lump of metal with my left elbow, but it’s more or less capable enough to push me backwards because of the slippery snow. Now it stood up, I’m quite surprised that it’s actually twice my size. “Phew… Hmm?” The metal marionette in front of me extended his right hand towards it’s right. On its right palm, it seems there’s a thread of wire attached to it, seems like it’s connected to…

My skin prickled as if something old had turned its head towards us. Inside the box were four bells. They were small enough to fit in my palm, but there was nothing delicate about them. They were made from dark metal that was not black exactly, but too deep to be grey. Strange carvings ran around their round bodies, lines and marks that seemed to shift when I looked at them too long. Each bell had a short handle wrapped in what looked like dark leather, though I did not think it was leather at all. The metal caught no light. It swallowed it.

“I need to make sure you can hit with your right hand. I don’t want you placing it against your wedding ring,” Aleksei says as I stare down at the brass knuckles he got me for my birthday. I can’t help but warm inside. I didn’t really think he was going to get them for me, but I know he’ll do anything to make me happy. Even if that means giving me a weapon. “My right hook is just fine,” I say, winking at him. He grunts, but I see the pull to one side of his lips and know he’s fighting a smile.

But knowing that didn’t mean I’d just lie down and die. I let one of them land a punch—it didn’t do much, but it let me in close enough to grab him by the neck and slam my forehead into his, sending him crumpling to the floor. What I didn’t expect was searing pain in my back when the last one hit me. “Silver knuckle dusters,” he taunted as he hit me again, the spiked flares on the knuckles digging into my skin like a hot knife. “Perfect for monsters like you.”