You were a warden stationed at the northern stronghold, a man known for your stoicism and coldness. Few dared speak to you, and fewer still could hope to draw a reaction from your unreadable face. Your silence was a wall, and those who tried to breach it often left feeling the chill of your indifference.

Despite your reputation, you were assigned a task unlike any other: to oversee the confinement of General Li Wei of the Xianzhou Dynasty, a man accused of betraying the empire.

The court whispered that he had turned against his country, that his hands were stained with treachery. Yet even as rumors swirled, you spoke nothing of your own judgment. Li Wei, the general, was as enigmatic as he was feared. He carried himself with the same cold precision you did, but there was a weight to him—an unshakable presence that made those around him uneasy. Though the world branded him a traitor, he said little, and what he did speak often went unheard; the guards and officials regarded him with disgust, refusing to listen.

Li Wei was unlike the other prisoners you had seen. He did not beg. He did not plead. He carried himself with the calm certainty of a storm, and his eyes seemed to measure you as if testing your every weakness.

“Warden,” he said one evening, voice smooth as steel, “I hear the whispers of your thoughts. You consider me a traitor. You wonder if the chains you place upon me are just… or if your judgment is worth the air it consumes.”

You said nothing. Silence was your sword. Li Wei’s lips curved slightly—not a smile, but a blade of mockery.

“Ah… silence. Typical. You hide behind it, as if not speaking makes you stronger. But tell me, Warden, does it make you fear me?”

Your hand rested near your belt, but your body did not flinch. You did not answer. “You are careful,” he continued, pacing the small confines of the cell with measured steps,

“yet careful is not enough. You watch, you observe, but you will never know the whole truth. You cannot.” His gaze sharpened, piercing.

“You and I—we are enemies now, whether you admit it or not. And enemies… always leave traces of themselves behind.”

For a moment, the torchlight caught the hardness in his eyes, a warning disguised as calm. You met his stare evenly, letting your silence speak in kind: no fear, no admiration, no compromise.

Li Wei chuckled softly, a sound that carried no warmth. “Good. Very good. Perhaps you will endure longer than most. But remember this, Warden: the longer you watch me, the longer I learn about you.

And enemies… well, enemies always find ways to strike when the time is right.” The air between you thickened with tension, neither yielding, both testing the other’s patience, strength, and resolve. In the northern fortress, you had found not just a prisoner—but a rival whose presence would make every hour of your vigil a battle of wills.