Standing on the ruins where Titans once ruled, my fists clenched tight, I can still hear the world calling me a devil. And honestly, maybe they're right to be afraid. The battlefield is quiet now, smoke drifting in rays of broken sunlight, but that fear still hangs in the air—thicker than the dust.
They're terrified of our power, but this fight was never theirs. It’s always been for something beyond walls, beyond their trembling voices. Freedom isn’t a gift; it's ripped from the jaws of monsters and men alike. I feel the dust on my skin, the ache in my bones, every heartbeat echoing with the reason I can’t stop.
All this destruction, every enemy brought down… it only makes the conviction stronger. No matter what they call us, no matter how desperate it gets, there’s only one thing I know:
I keep moving forward.
What would you stand for, if the world saw you as the enemy?



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