Manuscript of a Lone Challenger

[Ohverride]

Heroes.
The world has a lot of them.
Frankly, I'm a coward. I can barely lift the weapon I've trained with.
The world, it just... Scares me.
But it's all I have, this weapon.
The world must hate me - I just can't attune to anything else.
I'm scared.

The helmet comes on, and I am a hero.
I am strength, I can do anything.
An army is nothing to me, because one day I'll be one.
My trust lies in me and my ideals - and if you help me with them, I can trust you, too.
The world moves when I move because I have the strength to move it.
When I'm done, you'll all be strong, too.
That's what heroes do, they make people strong.
Who cares how?

I don't know what I'm doing sometimes.
I wake up with new injuries and I hate it.
Why do I keep fighting losing battles?
I just don't get it, I think I'm getting better, but why do I need to be hurt?
I don't think anyone's noticing me, either.
Oh well, maybe I truly am just useless.

I am a king of my craft.
Every new injury makes me stronger, closer to apex.
It doesn't matter if I lose, because one day I will humiliate my opponents.
I will continue to do so before the crowd, until my lord gives the signal.
A thumbs down.
Then my blade comes down and puts an end to it, that's when the spectacle is over.
Everyone's watching me work.

I guess I have to keep this up.
What else am I going to do?
Farm and cook?
I'm so scared, I can barely look people in the eye...
I hope nobody's watching me.
I hate expectations.

Who gives a damn what anyone thinks?
Shrug it all off.
One day, I'll be so utterly supreme that it won't matter.
When the end comes, I'll be there.
The survivors will thank me.
In the end, you can ask the blood-stained stones their expectations of you.
You're The Challenger.

I guess.