We are taught that strength is what keeps us alive. So he became strong. Strong enough to endure the battlefield. Strong enough to command men into hell and lead them back out. Strong enough to win a war that should have destroyed him. They called him unbreakable. They were wrong. There are things even strength cannot protect you from. A hand you failed to hold. A voice you chose not to hear. A woman who waited for you until she no longer could. The war ended. She did not return. Now he lives among the ruins of the life he won, raising a daughter who refuses to believe that strength means standing alone. But something else lives inside him. Something with his face. It tells him that his daughter will only make him weak. That love is an invitation to loss. That the only person he can trust is himself. Perhaps it is madness. Perhaps it is the part of him that survived. And perhaps the difference between the two no longer matters. He spent his life learning how to become strong enough to survive. Now he must learn whether he is strong enough to live.
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