Fire does not ask permission before it consumes what you thought was permanent. It arrives without fanfare, stripping away every title, every comfort, every illusion of safety until only raw bone and clean spirit remain standing in the quiet ash.

In those desolate hours between midnight and dawn across borders that offered neither sanctuary nor mercy, I discovered that what remains unburned was never fragile to begin with. The road does not build endurance; it simply exposes where your courage was hollow, and demands that you begin again.