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Any questions, feel free to add me and ask.
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It is a curious thing, Commander, how predictably sentient nature unfolds when placed under pressure. You see, most beings believe they understand the art of war — they equate it with strength, aggression, and power. But true warfare… true victory… is born from comprehension. One does not conquer through force alone, but through understanding — of one’s enemy, of their culture, their habits, their art. For in those details, the threads of their downfall are already woven.

Observe long enough, and you will see it — the subtle cracks that pride creates. They overextend in confidence, dismiss warnings as beneath their notice, and mistake patience for weakness. It is a most reliable pattern, and one I have learned to appreciate. Their strategies are sound, their numbers vast, and yet… their temper betrays them. A single miscalculation, born not from ignorance but arrogance, becomes the first brushstroke in their ruin.

I find no joy in their destruction, only a kind of quiet fascination. Each opponent, whether Rebel, smuggler, or politician, believes themselves the author of a grand design. They imagine they play the game upon their own terms — when, in truth, the board was never theirs to command. They make their choices freely, yes… and in those choices, they craft the very trap that ensnares them.

There is elegance in that inevitability. One need not strike rashly to achieve victory — one merely allows the enemy to finish their own portrait, flawed and complete. And when the final stroke is made, when realization dawns that their defeat was of their own making… only then do I move.

It is never anger that ends them, nor vengeance. Only precision. Only inevitability. My enemies… are, as they have always been… the architects of their own destruction.

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Once, I knew a fox
A cunning and sinister fox
He was quick and clever
And always deceiving all of
His woodland kin
He crafted his own crown made of bone
Wore it atop of his ivory throne
With his scepter and sword
And merciless boars
He ruled the dark woods that he used to call home

And each day his eyes grew a little bit wider
And each night his mind grew a little more meek
‘Till he slammed down his fist and yelled
“No more survivors!
Nobody rules the dark forest but me!"

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One sails the seas of life and believes
The storms will lead you home
These open roads will call you with the promise
You'll walk the Earth alone

I live in a dream
With open eyes I breathe again
I see all your fears
Together we can feel
We can heal
And take the road less traveled on
To here, in the new
Like diamonds we will shine
We will rise
Two hearts, where souls are free again
We live

We sail the seas of life and believe
The storms will lead us home
These open roads will call us with the promise

This dream is a universe
And every soul shines
Where the darkness turns into light
I take you to fly with me
And follow the way
There will always be a new day