Kapezo

Steel and blood shape the world, and I am both.

I do not beg. I do not kneel. I take what is mine, carve my path through fire and ruin, leaving only ashes in my wake.

Honor is paid in steel, respect in submission, and the weak are nothing but dust beneath my stride.

I do not seek peace. I do not bargain. I do not falter.

Strength is law, and my hands are stained with the truth of it.

The night whispers my name in fear, and the dawn rises over the wreckage of those who stood against me.

The strong rule. The weak serve. The dead are forgotten.

Such is the way of the world. Such is my way.

I met Izzy in the cold reach of the north, where silence sits heavy and the wind cuts through bone like judgment. She was already marked by survival, already shaped by fear and endurance, but still standing when most would have fallen.

There was no grand moment, no declaration, only the certainty of recognition when paths finally crossed.

In that meeting, nothing in me bent, and nothing in her broke. Only understanding settled between what she was becoming and what I am.