Runes warm, servos active, Arcane coil starts to drive. I don’t pray, I prime the core, Field test what I built for war. Eyes up, threat at twenty feet, Shield arm locked, stance repeat. You hear orders, I see the path, Every swing predicts its aftermath. STEEL-BOUND—guard my flank Intercept, don’t overthink. I strike once, you strike twice, Force the error, pay the price. STEEL-BOUND—hold the line, I’ll recalibrate in time. When the plan breaks, we don’t flee… We rewrite it instantly. They rush wild, I mark the leed, Arcane Jolt on contact… bleed. You don’t feel fear, don’t feel pain, Just pressure thresholds and strain. If my footing slips in debris, You’re already there, shield up. Not a pet. Not just a tool. You are discipline made rule. STEEL-BOUND—guard my flank Reaction frame, attack and tank. I don’t shout, I don’t beg, Bonus action, intercept. STEEL-BOUND—stand and brace, Buy me seconds, save my place. We don’t win by strength alone, We win by how we’re built and grown. Target marked. Position locked. Brace and draw fire. Damage diverted. Arcane surge… Now. Command confirmed. I’ve seen blades fail, spells go wrong, Seen courage crack when fights run long. So I designed you for the mess, Crowded lines and no success. If I fall, you hold the ground, Buy the turn that swings it round. If you break, I’ll build again, Field repair beats mourning then. STEEL-BOUND—side by side No instinct here, just trained replies. Action, reaction, flawless flow, You block the strike I’ll never know. STEEL-BOUND—last command: stay, I’ll finish this, cover me. When the dust clears, they’ll understand… Victory favors the engineered hand. No fear. No doubt. Just orders… …and execution.
