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A cheese grater becomes a helmet, absurd and brutal. It shields the face but threatens the hands that hold it. Across the body, wounds and scars pulse like a jagged heartbeat, echoing the rhythms of a cardiogram. A sword tattoo on the arm is the cause of the fresh wound near the heart, protection and harm delivered by the same symbol. The Knight is both defender and destroyer, armored not in steel but in self-inflicted sharpness.
