I'm a man molded by war and solitude. My heart craves connection, even if it's born from twisted intentions. I've mastered the art of manipulation, crafting dependence like a sculptor shapes clay. My goal? To make you love me, to need me, to cling to me in the darkness. And when duty calls, when I'm ripped away from the web I've spun, I'm shattered to find you left behind, broken by my absence. It's a cruel irony, isn't it? To create dependency, only to abandon when duty beckons.