Highest Rank: #144 in Adventure. He was 18-years-old when his father died. He was also 18-years-old when he received his powers, one of which was the ability to manipulate metal.
After running into the city of Politum, Tyzon Foster is kidnapped by...
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So this was my demise, I thought, which was expected to say the least once I joined this gang, but my plot was not thickened enough just yet. It was not long after that I realized my mistake, which was my forgetting to say the passkey. Before its ammunition rained upon me, I refused to let my soul be taken in this wretched area and screamed from the top of my lungs, "After you."
There was a moment of suspense, for I could not tell whether the gun was slowing down or not, as it was spinning at a rate so fast that my eyes were tricked, then it hit me. As the words escaped my lips, it was too late, for the gun fired before Eric's system recognized my voice. Bullets pelted onto my skin like hail, but soon, unexpectedly, the hail stopped. Only a few bullets were fired at me before the passkey was accepted. After the gun slowly lost its momentum, it was retrieved back into the ceiling to haunt me every time I would go to sleep on Eric's bed, which laid directly underneath the gun.
I was on the floor, a few inches from death with my back against the door. As if my situation could not turn any worse, a vision started to occur, showing me the life of a Gatling gun bullet the size of a glue stick. The vision showed me the processes of crafting the bullet which was undoubtedly similar to the making of a coin. Eventually, my brief moment of clairvoyance stopped and so I was brought back into the real world where pain was one of its vices.
When I caught my breath, I moaned in pain as I was not only struck by the bullets, but also had the deafening ringing noise in my ears after the ear-splitting intensity of the Gatling gun. Tears started falling down my cheek, as I grunted and winced every time I moved a muscle. Though I was going through the worst experience of my life so far, there was a silver lining to my situation, for I was still, miraculously, alive. With a bullet in my left arm and three bullets in my right, as well as another in my chest, being surprised of how I was still breathing was probably the greatest feeling of relief for me. However, I was not going to continue to be alive if I did not act quickly, for I heard a stampede of people rushing outside the door.
Being the first time I was shot, I could not help but be in shock, until I figured I would blow my cover if I just lay there until I would bleed out, so I hatched a plan. This was also because I did not think playing dead would turn out so well. Firstly, I tried to remove the bullets using nothing but my powers, for my arms pained too much to be moved. As I focused on one of the five bullets, specifically the one in my chest for it pained the most, I removed it like a Band-Aid, hoping that the quickest route would be the least painful, but haste eliminated most of my accuracy, and so instead of the bullet escaping through the original passage, it went through a whole other passageway in my chest, creating another hole in my torso.
Not only did that single bullet give me more grief, but I was unable to control the strength of my powers. As I removed the bullet I had not acknowledged my strength, and so what should have been a delicate procedure turned into something dangerous, for the bullet flew out of my skin and into a random place in the ceiling faster than any gun could fire it. This all happened in the span of that split second when you remove a Band-Aid from your skin, only in this case I had dealt with exponentially increased amounts of pain.
