Forged Destiny [Book 6: Ch. 14]

AThe metal fell in on itself as it finally became liquid. Modulating the heat with my hands in order to alternate between fully liquid and not, just a little solid, I drew it up onto my body. There was a gasp from nearby, someone no doubt seeing what they must have perceived as pure suicide. It would have been were it not for my Passive. I was still forging, after all, so to me it felt like tepid water all across my body.

More and more came, until my body was covered. With my hands and my mind, I smoothed it as best I could, allowing one piece to cool enough to become solid and then, with a combination of my hands and my Engraving Skill, scraping the area flat until it resembled armour. At least enough so to adhere and attach to my body. If it were anything less, or too much a liquid, it would fall or slide off. Piece by piece, minute by agonising minute, I built the suit of armour up, starting with my feet and legs before moving onto my thighs, hips, stomach and then chest. It was a hideously constricting suit of plate that covered every segment of my body, movement only allowed by intersecting plates at my joints.

The final piece was the helm, which I shaped up by pulling molten metal with my fingers over my cheeks and face, closing my eyes as I worked. When it was done, I could barely breathe, but a quick pull of my fingers across my mouth and eyes created space enough to see and draw breath.

[...]

My breastplate was still soft, after all, still in a state somewhere between solid and liquid. More the former than the latter.

[...]

But I could still suffocate in what was essentially a coffin of molten steel. I forced myself to keep moving, concentrating and using Engraving to sheer and push the metal around my knees and ankles to simulate walking, almost like muscles, increasing and decreasing mass above and below the knee-plates to contract and relax my shin-plates, taking one step after another. I was blind. I kept going straight.

—Forged Destiny [Book 6: Ch. 14]