Men of the Forge, You were not born into comfort. You were born into law. Not the laws written by governments. Not the laws debated by scholars. I speak of the older law. The law beneath language. The law that governs consequence whether you believe in it or not. There is a Canon that rules your life. It does not ask your permission. It does not soften for your wounds. It does not negotiate with your excuses. The Canon says this: If you do not rule yourself, you will be ruled. If you do not set boundaries, you will be consumed. If you do not discipline your impulses, they will discipline your future. If you divide your mind against itself, you will fracture everything you touch. Structure is not oppression. Structure is mercy. Law is not cruelty. Law is clarity. You cry out for freedom while refusing order. You demand power while rejecting responsibility. You want legacy without submission to the grind that builds it. The Canon does not reward intention. It rewards alignment. And alignment is forged, not wished. But beneath the Canon is the deeper scripture. The one you only learn when your life collapses. The one written in ash and blood. The Shadow Codex. The law of the Wound declares: what you refuse to confront will rule you from the dark. The law of the Edge declares: you only grow where you are afraid to stand. The law of the Forge declares: pressure does not create weakness. It exposes it. The law of the Threshold declares: every fall is an initiation if you refuse to stay down. You call your suffering unfair. The Shadow calls it revelation. You call your failure the end. The Shadow calls it unveiling. You say you were betrayed. The Shadow asks why you tolerated what you knew was wrong. You say you were misunderstood. The Shadow asks whether you first misunderstood yourself. This Codex is not gentle. It burns away illusion. It strips identity built on applause. It tears down the image you curated for approval and leaves you alone with the man you actually are.