Gilded Green

Gilded Green

“The year was 2041. A falling supply of oil, rising civil unrest, a global recession, and a failed surprise Chinese invasion of Taiwan had skyrocketed international tension, and brought the world the closest it had been to nuclear war since the Cuban missile crisis.

It was a time of paranoia, fear, and anger.

It was a time where global trade fell apart as nations closed borders, and tariffs between hostile nations rose exponentially.

It was a time where the world sat on a knife edge, waiting in terror for the nudge that would tip everyone past the point of no return and doom billions.

It was the absolute worst possible time for a glowing child to be born.

Meta abilities, known colloquially as ‘quirks’ by those affected, came out of nowhere, they arrived fast, and they arrived everywhere.

Accusations of human experimentation, super soldier programs, secret sciences, and hundreds others were thrown between the great powers. No one knew what these things were, no one knew how they spread, no one knew if they were contagious, and everyone was terrified of what they could do.

The severity of the response varied from nation to nation, but across the board, it was all negative.

Police brutality in France. Segregation exploded back into existence in the American South. People “disappeared” in Russia to government facilities and studied like animals. Concentration camps in China. The Muslim world preached against those who bore the “mark of the devil”, and any mutant born on Islam soil was charged with blasphemy against Islamic law- sentenced to be stoned for the crime of existence. And in North Korea, soldiers swept the houses of the country once a year, and every person found to have “irregular properties” was rounded up and shot.

Hate crimes were rampant, and only continued to swell as the number of Quirked individuals increased. Quirked people began retaliating, the first Villains, using their powers to slaughter in revenge.

Harsh laws on public quirk use crashed down, but that only made the situation worse, leading to the creation of the Meta Liberation Army, and the first wave of Quirk Terrorism.

Things were spiraling out of control, cities were aflame in riots, Quirk Warlords began carving out land for themselves through pure force, governments were barely holding on, everything was headed for full collapse…

…

And then it wasn’t.

Across the world, the number of Quirked people plateaued at around 15% of the population, new quirks stopped showing up from non-quirk lineages, Quirk Warlords were toppled by traditional militaries, the MLA was destroyed by a joint strike of American British and Russian troops, Destro was found guilty by the UN for acts of international terrorism, and the world stabilized.

In 2068 the Quirk Collapse was averted.

And today in 2141, a whole century after the glowing child was born, the number of Quirked individuals had fallen to only 5% of the world's population through decades of systematic oppression.

I cannot help but wonder, what the world would look like, if the Quirk boom had never stopped, if the population kept increasing, even if only for a single year more.”

-Excerpt from Dr. Kyudai Garaki’s infamous book “A Retrospective of Quirks” which currently holds the record for being the most widely banned book in the world, being prohibited in some shape or form in over 147 countries across the globe.

-Gilded Green-

-Arc Start: Prologue-

Golden stage lights flashed to life, as a glorious red curtain rose, to the wild cheers of the audience.

“Hello New New York!” A gorgeous woman with silky blond hair, shouted into the microphone as she waved to the audience. She had sapphire eyes, and was wearing a purple dress that turned transparent the further down her legs it went. Some angles were absolutely scandalous, but that only increased ratings! “It’s me again, Jessica Snow, America’s favorite host of America’s favorite late night talk show! Coming to you live from the great Double N C!”

The crowd cheered again, and she held up a hand for them to wait.

“Here with me tonight we have a very special guest, who not only agreed to come onto the show, but also paid for all of this!” She swung her arm around, gesturing to the huge open air theater, the rows of seats all padded with real leather, the band playing merrily in the background, and the lengthy marble topped bar stocked up with every type of alcoholic drink man could want.

“You already know who it is, but I’m gonna tell you anyway! It’s none other than the richest man since rockefeller, voted the world's most desirable bachelor for five years in a row, media darling, and head of the fastest growing company in the entire world, Midoriya Industries! It’s IZUKU MIDORIYA!”

The crowd applauded as the man of the hour stepped onto stage. Izuku Midoriya was every bit in person the man that he was on screen, as he strutted across the floor like he owned it (mainly because he did). He was dressed in a black coat tossed over a finely pressed dark green suit, with a golden lipped pocket over his heart. A golden pocket watch sat secured on his waist, and gleamed in the stage lights. His black gloved hands twirled a rich dark oak walking cane that had an emerald snuggly fitted into the handle.

He was beginning to show the signs of age, having entered his late 30s earlier that month, but his face was all smiles, his notoriously unruly hair kept in check by a black fedora, and his emerald green eyes sparkled like gems in the light.

He threw up a peace sign as he swaggered up to the hostess, and without an ounce of hesitation he immediately went off script by swiping the microphone from her hands.

“HELLO AMERICA!!!” He shouted in perfect accent-less English, to the enthusiasm of the crowd. “I’m so glad to be here in the city that never sleeps! What about you? Huh? Are you glad to be here!?”

The crowd went wild, more than willing to show their appreciation for being invited.

“Oh come on guys, we can do better than that, can’t we?”

The audience’s screaming only got louder in affirmation.

“What was that?” Izuku leaned down, cupping a hand to his ear. “I’m sorry I can’t hear you!”

The cheering swelled again, people standing from their seats and screaming. Jessica stepped back, wincing at the volume, but Izuku didn’t so much as twitch.

“Come on! I want to hear you SCREAM! Tell everyone you’re here! Wake the whole State up!”

He held out the microphone to the crowd with one hand and plugged his ear shut with his other.

If anyone had thought it was loud before, they would have been in for a shock, as the entire stage began to shake, as people roared and began stomping their feet, this time with every enormous speaker blasting it back twice over.

“THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!” He pumped his fist. “THANK YOU! Thank you all so much for the warm welcome!”

Izuku spread out his arms and let the crowd die down on its own for a few seconds, before signaling for them to quiet.

“Shh, shh, that was great, but I’ve got something serious to say. I’m really sorry, and I hate to bring down the mood, but I have to address something real quick.” In a stark contrast to how he entered, Izuku nervously shuffled to the very front edge of the stage with a tense and obviously forced smile.

“Now… I know what you were told at the door, to not pay the bartender because it would all automatically be put on your tab. Yeah, that’s… really not true at all.” He winced. “You see, there was a bit of a mixup, and they totally messed up the message I gave them.”

His mask cracked and his fake smile twitched as the crowd broke into whispers and angry mutterings.

“I-I’m sorry, but n-none of you get a t-tab. W-Well you s-see guys…”  The mask slipped from his face, and suddenly he was all charisma and wolfish smiles again. “There’s only one tab tonight, and it’s mine! Put your wallets away! Everything’s on me tonight, baby!”

The audience went absolutely ballistic. Lights and camera equipment rattled as the rafters shook from the screaming, and security looked panicked like they expected to have to rush in at any second to keep people from jumping onto the stage.

“THANK YOU MIDORIYA!” A woman in the front row cried out, leaning forward so that her boobs were practically spilling out of her dress. “WE LOVE YOU!”

“And thank you for coming here tonight!” Izuku winked as he finger gunned at her. “Thank you all for giving me a warm welcome back to the States! A night on the house is the least I could do for you wonderful folks!”

He grinned and pointed at the cameras, throwing up his signature peace sign as he swaggered away, back towards the seats at the center of the stage.

He lazily tossed the microphone back to Jessica as he passed her, and mouthed ‘good luck’ as he dropped down into his bergère chair like a king to his throne.

Jessica blinked in bewilderment as she stared at him, and let out a nervous chuckle.

Oh dear, what had she gotten herself into?

She took a deep breath to steady herself, and made her way to sit in the chair across from him.

“So, Mr Midoriya-”

“Please, just call me Izuku.” He cut her off with a charming smile that, even though she knew it was fake, made her heart skip a beat.

“So, I~zu~ku.” She put extra emphasis on his name, making a show for the cameras of how she swirled the world in her mouth. “How does it feel to be voted as the world's most desirable bachelor for the fifth year in a row:?”

“I swear I’m asked this same question every year!’ He laughed with a light blush.

“You are, and it’s because we’re all eager to know if anything has changed.”

“Well… I don’t want to say too much, because nothing is official yet, but I have been spending time with a very nice girl recently.” He gave a wink towards the cameras. “Who knows, maybe next year I won’t be eligible for the bachelor vote and I’ll finally be asked a different question?”

“Ohhh, how exciting!” Jessica leaned forward. “She must really be something else, to catch your eye.”

“Oh, she’s an absolute menace.” Izuku laughed. “Maybe if you’re a good enough host, I’ll bring her on the show one day, if she’s comfortable with it.”

Jessica laughed with him and swatted his knee, but mentally she hesitated as she processed that. Was he trying to tempt her into softballing her questions? …No, she was thinking too much into it.

She shook off her doubt and continued with the interview.

“How was your Holiday trip to the alps?” “Have you heard about the latest rumors in Hollywood?”

Small talk and fluff questions were the main course to let him get comfortable and (hopefully) more honest when she started pulling out the big guns.

Jessica covered her mouth with her fingers and giggled along with the crowd’s laughter at Izuku’s (admittedly funny) joke, as the man himself took a sip of water.

She glanced over at the clock and noted the time. They only had a ten or so minutes left of allotted time, and Izuku seemed to have relaxed and was focusing most of his attention on entertaining the audience. Alright, if she was going to catch him off guard tonight, this was just about the best opportunity she had.

“Izuku, I have to say, thank you for agreeing to come on the show, you’ve been an absolute pleasure to talk to- easily my favorite guest so far. But don’t tell Nixon I said that.”

“Nonsense.” Izuku waved her off. “I should be thanking you for inviting me on, this has been entertaining!”

“No, I mean it, you’re very fun to talk to! Uhm… actually, since we’re almost out of time, would you mind if I go off script and ask a few personal questions?” She put her hands together and gave her best embarrassed pleading look. “It’s not everyday that I meet the richest man in the world.”

“Bah! I’m only the richest by technicality, which makes me at best only half as intimidating as you think I am. Don’t be shy. Ask whatever you like, it’s what I’m here for!”

She smirked. Bingo.

“Over the last four days you’ve donated billions of dollars to charity, despite never having done anything of the sort in the past twenty years.” She leaned forward, her face calm, but her eyes intense. “What caused this change in behavior? The running theory is that this is a publicity stunt to try to bury your recent bad press.”

She expected him to look at her in surprise, to stutter, to slip from his script even ever so slightly in a way she could pounce on.

Instead he just laughed.

“I’ve always believed in a ‘self building’ mindset. I might have been one of the richest men in the world for over a decade now, but that was based entirely on net worth. In terms of solid cash, however, it's been a bit… unflattering, to say the least. Most everything I made I immediately reinvested into my company. It’s only been since Midoriya Industries finally crossed the finish line for being the world's largest company that I’ve finally begun padding my own savings in the last few years. And it’s not like I could donate what I don’t have, that would be lying, and lying about donating to charity is fucked up.”

Jessica frowned but didn’t relent.

“So you’re saying you’ve valued the growth of your company over the good that charities could do in helping people?”

“Sweetheat, my whole business is helping people. I give specialized opportunities to the most oppressed group in the world. I give them jobs, housing, a community, and a second chance at life that they wouldn’t be able to find anywhere else.”

“Oh really?”

“Yup. It was hard work to set up, but I don’t regret a second of it.”

“Then why don’t you explain some things for me?” She snapped her fingers and the wall behind them lit up as a projector flicked to life. It displayed a satellite picture of an enormous artificial island out in the middle of the pacific, a sprawling city of copper and steel, its countless factories spewing black smog into the sky.

“This is your island, Atlas, the largest artificial island in the world. Privately funded, personally built, out in the middle of international waters, far away from any country and out of reach of any law enforcement but your own. The only way anyone is allowed on or off is by a transportation company that, again, you own. That by itself is worrying, but what’s far more concerning is the fact that of the over half a million quirked people who have bought a ticket to your island to look for employment in the last decade, not even ONE has ever been recorded leaving!”

“...” Izuku leveled a stare at her, it wasn’t hostile, but his eyes were cold, a stark difference from how they had been all night. “Ms Snow, are you making an accusation?”

“Of course not, Mr Midoriya.” She smiled sweetly. “I’m just asking questions, like you said I could.”

She snapped her fingers again and the projection changed to show a picture of an Orca mutant. He was huge, but physically disheveled, clearly malnourished, and was covered in injuries.

Izuku frowned in irritation at the picture.

“This is Kugo Sakamata, a Japanese native who bought a ticket to Atlas three years ago, and washed up on a beach in Hawaii last week.” Jessica monologues as she stood and made a show of pacing for the cameras. “He had to be rushed to emergency surgery to save his life, but against all odds he recovered. Since then he has been very vocal about his experiences at Atlas, he says that it was horrible, that abuse of every kind is rampant, that the work conditions are inhumane, that the hours are so extream it’s borderline torture, that the great wages you promised are worthless because the price for rent, food, electricity, water, and basic necessities- prices that you control through your total monopoly on everything on the island, drain everything from their pockets and back to the company.”

The crowd whispered to each other in confusion at the sudden change in tone, but she ignored them.

“He says that the island is a prison, kept in check by a private mercenary force who don’t even bother to pretend to be ‘police’ anymore, that no one is allowed to leave, and that anyone who tries to escape gets thrown into the mines to work themselves to death!”

She stopped in front of Izuku, having walked a circle around the stage, and crossed her arms with a victorious smirk.

“And he says you’re the one behind it all.”

She could hardly remember to breathe. She had him. She had him! He’d spent the last week doing everything he could to dodge or bury this news. The sheer amount of money that had been sloshing through the pipes was astounding. A quarter of all news agencies in America had a majority share bought out the first two days, absurd charity donations filled up every headline available, bribes disguised as sponsorships were suddenly everywhere, and the lawyers! Lawyers knocking on the door of everyone who so much as breathed at Midoriya the wrong way.

All of that, and she still managed to get him! Here, live, broadcast to the world, without a laser to tell him what not to answer, no army of PR agents to smooth it over, and no scapegoats willing to take the blame for a nice pay bonus!

Just him, on stage, alone, staring down the barrel of everything he’d tried to cover up. Any excuses and denial he tried to spin would only fuel the rumor wheel. His best move would be to refuse to answer and leave, but even that would basically be admitting it!

Oh, she would be buried after this, for sure, but who cares!? She would be the woman who exposed the whole of Midoriya Industries! Anything she wrote about this would print gold! She’d be set for life!

Oh, he must be terrified! He’d start stuttering and blabbing any moment now!

…

But he wasn’t terrified, instead Izuku was just staring at her with an annoyed expression, like you would look at a waiter if they served you burnt food.

“You know, I’m disappointed. I really am.” He drummed his fingers on his armrest and scowled. “I should have known, I really should have, you’re just like the rest of the media.” He flung his arms out in disgust, like he was flicking off mud. “But no, noooo, I just had to trust you! Your studio was so nice over the phone- you specifically got on the line and said you just wanted a nice fun night with no politics involved.”

He stood up, several inches taller than her even as he leaned on his cane.

“Liars! That’s what you all are! Parasites! Blood starved vultures desperate to get your precious five minutes of fame, no matter whose lives you need to ruin to get it! You’re accusing me of these horrible things with nothing but hearsay and painting me a demon, while the number of people your industry has driven to suicide continues to climb by the day! How can you even live with yourselves!”

The crowd’s muttering increased in volume. Jessica stepped back, surprised that he was trying to turn this on her. How did he expect to sweep her evidence under the rug?

He pointed to himself. “You lied to me to trick me into a confrontation.” He pointed to the cameras. “You lied to the world to get them to tune in.” He pointed to the crowd. “And you lied to these wonderful people to trick them into being your witnesses. Even your name’s a lie! You legally changed it several years ago to ‘something more pretty’. Is there anyone else you want to lie to while you’re at it?”

“I’m not lying!”

“I’m not lying!” He mocked. “I have been nothing but kind and accommodating, and you start attacking me! Two decades of doing the work that no one else was willing to do, everything I’ve worked for, all slandered and thrown out the window based on nothing but the baseless rumors started by a criminal!”

Izuku jabbed his cane at the picture on the wall. “That is the face of a criminal, a murderer! A Mut who killed three of his coworkers in cold blood, massacred five guards, and chose to jump off the 50 foot drop into the ocean rather than face justice! For God’s sake, he’s being put on trial as we speak, and yet you still chose to attack me with this slander.”

“BECAUSE YOU’RE LYING!” She shrieked. “BECAUSE YOU’RE A HORRIBLE PERSON!”

But it was too late, she’d been focused on targeting Izuku, but Izuku had been focused on targeting everyone else in the room.

The crowd, stolen by Izuku’s performance at the beginning, carried away by his friendly personality so far, and drunk on his free alcohol, booed loudly, some of the more tipsy members even standing up and violently jabbing double thumbs down at the stage.

Jessica looked at them, slack jawed.

Were they seriously falling for this? Why were they booing at her!? She grit her teeth and forced her face back into a smile. She could still salvage this, she had to!

Panicked, and running out of time, she activated her trump card- though with how likely it was to backfire and ruin everything, that might not have been the right word.

The crowd gasped loudly, a woman screamed, and several people began shouting in panic, as Jessica’s hair began to glow.

“This is my meta ability, my quirk.” Jessica said slowly, acutely aware of how the security they had on the sidelines suddenly seemed so much more at attention, and how the cameramen were looking at her wearily. “When I activate it my hair glows. It glows different colors depending on what is said near me. If I am told a lie it flashes red, if I am told a truth it flashes green.”

“Mr Midoriya.” Jessica said carefully, making sure to enunciate every syllable as clear as she could. “Are you sure that there’s absolutely no truth behind these rumors?”

Izuku stared at her for a long while, before breaking into a sickeningly sweet smile.

“Ms Snow, I can assure you, I know the working conditions on my own island, and they’re nothing that I wouldn't happily let my mother work in!”

A second past, and the crowd held their breath as Jessica’s hair shined brighter… and then flashed green.

Izuku turned away and walked towards the cameras, completely ignoring a pale-faced Jessica as the woman slumped down into her chair with an expression of horrible realization.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize that this got out of hand, I really do, so how about we try to leave on a high note? I am hereby announcing that in five months time, the central district of Atlas Island will be opening its doors for visitors for the first in ever! To mark Midoriya Industries’ 20th birthday, I’ll be holding the largest ball since the Middle Ages!”

He flashed a peace sign that he knew would be on tomorrow’s headline, waved to the drunk audience, and swiftly began walking off stage.

“W-Wait! Stop! Wait a moment!” Jessica shouted weakly as she stumbled out of her chair. She had to pull this back, if she didn’t she was doomed! She had gone behind her boss’ back for this, gone off script, pissed off the single most wealthy man in the world, and ousted herself as a mutant, a defect, a Mut!

If she didn’t do something in the next five seconds her life was OVER!

“Please! I’m sorry for accusing you of everything, but please! A-Are people really being held captive?” Her TV mask broke, and ugly tears trailed down her face, ruining her makeup. “M-My sister, sh-she left a-and she never- I-It’s been years, please… I-I just need… please…”

Izuku, in that moment, wanted nothing more than to stomp off and tell his lawyers to get this swindling backstabbing bitch off television permanently, but instead he sighed and swept back over to the actress who was trying to hide the glow of her hair under a studio light.

“The world is a hard place for quirked people, and it can push them down bad paths. Even after everything you’ve done tonight, I would still be more than happy to sign you a free ticket there, if you would like.” He said with empathy as fake as her tears, before turning to the cameras and flashing the fake smile that had won over the entire world. “After all, the opportunities you can find with Midoriya Industries are so exceptional, and unparalleled, that no one will ever leave.”

Jessica’s hair flashed green.

"Here at Midoriya Industries we believe that the work is the oxygen and blood of the human race. I personally invite you to help lead us to a better future, not just for yourself, but for the whole human race. Let's show the world that you aren't defective, but special. Let's show them how much you are willing to work to be accepted, and just how effective your special talents can be. Let's show the world what you can do."

-Gilded Green-

Atlas island was burning.

Itsuka wanted to scream, she wanted to panic, but that wasn’t an option right now. Messing up at a bad time was a good way to get your pay docked, but if she messed up now, in a situation as bad as this one, there’s no way she wouldn't be looking at demotion! So instead she bit her lip and pulled her dull gray helmet further down on her head to muffle her whimper.

The vehicle lurched as it came to a stop, and Itsuka stood up with the 19 other guards as the overhead light flashed yellow, and the back door dropped down into an unloading ramp.

“Move! Move!” The squad commander, identical to every other guard in his full body riot armor shouted as he waved them out.

Itsuka pulled the weapon from her back and rushed down the ramp alongside her brothers and sisters in the guard. They had been drilled extensively during their training, and the number one rule was to never freeze up. Hesitating against a meta was a deathwish, their abilities were unpredictable and, if you gave him the opportunity, always deadly. But even so, every guard froze at the scene in front of them.

Enormous factory complexes that lined the skyline billowed flames, smoke choked the air, buildings collapsed into heaps of rubble, Fire Trucks were flipped over on their side, the corpse of a helicopter sat shattered atop a melting shop- it was chaos!

But the true terror, the thing that sent a frozen chill straight through the chest of every guard was the mob. Hundreds of Muts angrily rampaging through the streets, tearing up everything in sight, and, most horrifying of all, using their meta abilities openly without restraint!

A dragonoid mutant flew overhead and dropped a burning car onto the remains of the local guard office, causing a wild cheer from the mob. A man with mole claws eagerly dug through walls, toppeling local shops. A woman with flaming hair lobbed green fireballs.

A shrill BEEP from their helmets snapped them out of their daze.

Five other transport vehicles rolled up, each unloading twenty guards.

Itsuka’s group stepped forward, linking with other groups to make a long wall in front of the mob, and at the command of another BEEP from their helmet comms, they all slapped the heavy metal device that encased their forearm from the elbow to the wrist.

The device whirred and thin segmented graphene plates shot out on either side, clicking as they locked into place, then another pair, and another pair, until each guard had a full body shield in front of them, with a bulletproof window to see through, and a strange hole where a doorknob would be if it were a door.

The shields audibly clacked as the magnets on the sides activated and pulled them together, forming an actual riot wall. Then, one by one, each guard pulled the weapon from their back and slid the barrel through the hole, locking it into place.

Itsuka’s hand felt clammy, the electric shock gun she usually carried during patrols was gone, the soothing warmth of its humming battery cells replaced by the cold black metal of the shotgun in her right, and the heavy weight of the shield on her left.

This was a code crimson situation, they’d only ever simulated this in drills, and never with live weapons! She was an upper middle district guard; she'd spent her last five years patrolling and pulling shifts in districts C and lower B (sometimes upper B if she was lucky). This was the first time she had ever stepped foot in district D, and it was to stop a full blown meta riot from spilling into the upper levels!

She felt queasy, terrified, like she could throw up at any moment, but it didn;t show. Her helmet and the stabilizers in her suit’s exoskeleton hid her emotions, just like it did every other guard, making her look like an emotionless machine.

Heavy mechanical footsteps calmed her worries somewhat as she saw the stormguard troops take formation behind the wall. They wore huge mechanical exoskeletons that pushed the tallest of them upwards to seven feet. Their metal legs were extra long and inverted, like a horse, built to match even the fastest speed powers. Their upper body was covered in a thicker version of the guard uniform Itsuka was wearing, but their shoulders each had metal shoulder pads that each had a spotlight and three grenade launchers mounted on top of it.

A beep in her helmet, loud and shrill, snapped her back to attention. It was beginning.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

The vehicles that had carried them here launched a volley of football sized canisters at the mob, which began billowing out fountains pepperspark- a thick red gas designed to lightly burn exposed skin like wasp stings, and temporarily blind hostiles for up to three hours.

The mob screamed in pain, what little organization they had broke down, as they scattered away from the gas.

Itsuka ignored them, focusing solely on remembering her training, and waiting for the next beep from her headset.

BEEP

Seemingly without any signal, the wall marched forward, as a single monolithic entity. Blue electricity crackled along the metal shield wall, and spotlights slowly swung back and forth as the stormguard marched behind them, occasionally launching their own canisters of pepperspark gas.

Itsuka swallowed nervously and began going over what her training book had said the next steps were. They needed to break the mob’s cohesion, push them away from any high density areas, and methodically begin to separate them into smaller and smaller groups to detain.

A mutant roared as he picked himself off the ground, his horrifying insectoid plate skin rippling as he thrashed around in pain. His- it’s neck extended, unwinding into a centipede abomination that made her want to vomit. He reared back and charged the line.

Somewhere down the shield line, a guard panicked and pulled their trigger.

A gunshot rang out, and all hell broke loose.

-Chapter End-

Gilding is a decorative technique for applying a very thin coating of gold over solid surfaces such as metal, wood, porcelain, or stone. While originally a form of art originating in ancient China, it has gathered a very negative reputation over the centuries.

Gilding has been used to counterfeit gold coins, make fake gold bars, and is typically seen as a very dishonest practice. Even when used legally, its only purpose is to create a facade. It’s something that people do to seem more wealthy than they are, to lie about their stature in life through implication and omission.

But like all facades, it cannot last forever, and few things are as disappointingly hollow as watching a thin mask of gold crumble and peel away to reveal rusted iron.