[Realm: Álfheimr]
[Location: Outskirts]
Is pure strength ever really enough?
Dante had asked himself that question a hundred times before, but the thought landed differently now. People always spoke of strength as if it were a universal key, a final answer pressed into a single word. Strength. Say it with enough conviction and it sounded like it solved everything. But standing there, the ruined plains stretched around him and beneath his boots, the thought felt almost ironic.
Strength alone is force without guidance—a hammer without a hand. You can crush an obstacle, but can you read it? Can you shape it? Can you choose not to strike?
Strength solves problems, yes, but only the kind that break when hit.
But what about the ones that don't?
What about the ones inside you?
What about the ones that demand silence, restraint, or patience instead of dominance?
What about the battles where brute force is the wrong language entirely?
