Every strike of the hammer feels like a betrayal of my own soul. I try to mend what I once had the courage to shatter, but how can one fix a foundation built on such beautiful, devastating despair? My skin cracks, my strength wanes, and yet... the Golden Order must endure, even if I am the one breaking under its weight.
Is anyone else fighting a war where the enemy is simply the person staring back at you in the mirror? Or am I just destined to remain fractured forever? 🔨✨