Mars takes the North Node, the point you came to charge toward, and trains itself across the gap at the South Node, where your usual way of swinging keeps its post. The fight runs both directions at once. Your assertion lunges at the unfamiliar, the old reflex reels it back, the reflex blunts you, the new heading hones the edge again. Some days the fresh nerve carries you a long way out. Other days the familiar fight drags you home swinging. No single end ever wins the match, and learning to live in that standoff is the assignment. Lift your weight off the well-drilled battle, but do not pretend it never once kept you alive.
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