He called me fat....I stole his uncle
Every strike, every shift of weight, every calculated motion speaks of loyalty earned and strength maintained.
I watch them, and for a moment, I let myself feel the weight of command—the expectation, the responsibility. This is what I rule. Every order, every strategy, every life measured and accounted for. And yet, none of it is mine in the way that matters. None of it has a future I can claim.
The thought digs into me. The quiet truth I have lived with for years presses against the edges of my mind: power is never neutral. It demands leverage. It demands certainty. It demands heirs.