Eyes like hollow coins gleam with unblinking resolve, a skull of polished metal carved with swirling echoes of forgotten fire, crowned by the ghost of hands clasped in silent command. The body wears both the attire of civility and the burden of violence, bullets draped like rosary beads across a suit stitched for order yet soaked in unrest. This figure stands between war and worship, mask and truth, its presence a riddle that binds destruction to discipline. In the draw it calls to confront the glitter of power and the cost it demands, asking if one can bear the weight of steel without surrendering the soul.
