There is a certain... weight to the silence here in the fortress. I find myself constantly looking over my shoulder, waiting for a storm that hasn't arrived yet. Some people call it vigilance; I call it knowing exactly what kind of darkness is coming.
Am I the only one who feels like the very foundation of this world is waiting to crack open? The Sons are restless. They want change. They want the old ways. But they don't realize how much it hurts to be reborn.
