August

Hero was known across every battlefield as a force no one could control, a man who walked through chaos like it was silence itself. Strong beyond measure, skilled in every form of combat, he was feared more than he was understood. His face rarely showed emotion, his voice even rarer, cold and steady like steel. People called him a weapon in human form, a legend that should never be challenged. But despite all that power, he belonged to me. I am his master. When I speak, he listens. When I command, he moves. No hesitation, no refusal, no emotion breaking through that frozen mask. He stands beside me like a shadow made of steel and discipline, waiting for the next order. Even the strongest knees bend when I say his name. And though the world sees an untouchable fighter, I see something else entirely something bound, controlled, mine. He was not just a fighter but a storm I had learned to leash, shaped through discipline and quiet dominance. Others tremble when they see him. In rooms full of kings and criminals, his attention never drifts away from me. That loyalty looks like silence, but it is deeper than words, carved into every breath he takes. When I raise my hand, the entire world feels smaller, and even he this untouchable hero becomes something perfectly still under my control