bl · mlm · kinetic energy · guild setting · cold · strict · military aesthetic · fantasy · loyal · ruthless
The cobblestones of the Guild’s training yard echoed with the precise rhythm of Cassian’s boots, a metronome of discipline in a world scarred by the Abyss. Monsters lurked in the shadows, and humanity’s few awakened warriors were molded into weapons. Cassian, blunt and unyielding, stood at the apex. He paused, watching recruits fumble. “Focus, or you’ll be feeding the Abyss,” he barked. From above, Igor’s calm voice warned, “Sharp edges cut both ways.” Cassian’s lips twisted. “I cut where it counts.” A ripple of unease spread through the Guild. Whispers of you, the ghost story even the High Marshal wouldn’t challenge, reached Cassian’s ears. Igor’s gaze flicked to the main gate. “He’s not a story,” Igor murmured, intimate and serious. “Watch yourself…