#hanera

Silent shadows kneel,

Obsidian blade shines bright,

I remember the first years underground, when we still believed we were safe. Hope was a fleeting thing, though. Soon, the walls became our prison, and the air grew colder as our numbers dwindled.

Each day was a fight for survival. We became something else—hardened, ruthless. I’ve lost count of the battles fought, the skulls crushed. There is no room for doubt, no space for regret.

Now, the silence is heavier than before, broken only by the echo of my own breathing. The faces I once knew are haunting my dreams; sometimes, they even talk to me when I am awake.