What's next?

Tracy, a shed and a song

The school principal approved the redhead's club with almost mechanical precision, despite the strangeness. With surprising efficiency, Renee got all the club details right in just one afternoon, which kept her off Tracy's radar, who, incidentally, also didn't understand where her target's sudden interest in blacksmithing came from.

Renee showed up the next day carrying a large amount of scrap metal that she had collected from different sources in the city, in her right hand a large tally box containing hammers, pliers, solder, an angle grinder, sandpaper, and even a piece of train track. The ease with which the redhead carried all these items did not go unnoticed. In fact, it was surprising; Renee's image constantly oscillated between a delicate figure and a humiliated figure, now she seemed extremely confident on Monday and on Tuesday she seemed physically stronger than any of the boys. This led to a series of speculations, but none of them seemed to make any sense. During the morning, Renee settled into the club's new room, a large shed with more scrap metal and some items for manufacturing a new gas forge. She brought a piece of railroad track that her father had gotten for her and that she had used as an improvised anvil before, and she was determined to polish it and give it a finish worthy of a real anvil.

"Well, well, I see our **** redhead has really embarked on a new adventure." Tracy's voice filled the shed as Renee organized her tools, behind Tracy her usual friends waited like guards. "I thought the respectable class president wouldn't be late for gym class."

"Ah, good morning!" "Club organizers can get excuses from classes, and honestly, I don't see that much fun in physical education," Tracy said nonchalantly as she wiped her hands, slightly dirty with rust and grease, using a white handkerchief from her pants pocket.

"Oh, that's a shame, I'm sure the boys will miss the... wonderful sight of the **** redhead, in fact, I think we should give them exactly that." Tracy and her friends approached, the plan was simple, the same one they had done several times before: corner the redhead, undress her, humiliate her, and leave her at the mercy of anyone who crossed her path. What could go wrong?

Apparently... everything.

Renee didn't back down, she took two steps forward, Tracy's two friends grabbed her arms and tried to pull her away forcefully, but the redhead didn't even budge. Her feet were positioned in such a way that it was impossible to move her, almost as if she were tied to the ground.

"I made a deal with you, know that I'm fulfilling it now." Renee heard Moradin's voice echo in her mind and suddenly it was as if she were on autopilot, in a dream or something.

Tracy was stunned when Renee twisted her wrists and grabbed her friends' arms, squeezing them and pushing them forward in a dry gesture as if they had no weight at all, both bumped into each other and fell near Tracy.

"You know, I know you're not the best example of wit, but attacking someone who's just inches away from a hammer and a grinder... it's kind of stupid even for you," Renee said with...

What followed wasn't a violent reaction, Renee grabbed Tracy by the collar and easily removed her from the workshop, only to go back inside and do the same to her friends. Some people watched as Tracy, without reacting, stumbled and fell as she was expelled from the shed at the end of the corridor by the, until a few days ago, fragile and easily blushing Renee.

Confused, Tracy stood up cursing. Second day in a row of humiliation. She couldn't let this go, she wouldn't. She would have her ****, just not now. She pulled her friends off the floor and stormed out, hurling curses and insults at Renee.

The redhead, unaffected by this, went back inside the shed and closed the door. For the rest of the day, Renee built her own forge and anvil from scrap metal and her piece of railroad track. She forged blacksmith's tongs and more appropriate hammers, as well as some more of her own tools so that future club members would have material to work with. Renee was slowly returning to full consciousness, no longer Moradin. However, an old memory of Moradin's resurfaced, and, while forging, Renee filled the corridors with her voice singing an old song that Moradin remembered:

In the darkness of mines, where the gold softly gleams,

It whispers and shines, fulfilling our dreams.

From the heart of the stone, through the fire's hot breath,

We carve out a path, defying all ****.

With a shovel and pick, no reason for fear,

It's by our own work that the gemstones appear.

No battle or war, just the mountain's own heart,

As we do our part, creating new art.

From the mountain we came, from the deep and the vast,

Born deep in her womb, from an age long since passed.

And through the strange ages, so distant and wide,

We'll carry her spirit, with us as our guide.