I DONT BLEED QUIET Book VII: Anticipation of the Second WaveBitcoin / TetherUSBINANCE:BTCUSDTuti682375Terry woke to the sound of hammers. Not the gentle ring of a blacksmith at peace... these were war‑hammers, striking metal with the urgency of men who knew the mountains themselves were on a countdown. Every blow echoed through the cavern, vibrating through the new lattice of forged ore that now lived where his spine used to be. He didn’t move at first. He just breathed, slow and ragged, feeling the strange new weight inside him. The metal was still cooling, still settling, still learning him. Every inhale felt like fire. Every exhale felt like a dare. Aiden Bray noticed his eyes open. “Easy,” he said, though his voice carried the tension of someone who knew easy wasn’t on the menu anymore. Ginge didn’t look up from the forge. Sparks flew around him like angry fireflies. “He’s awake? Good. Tell him to stop lying there like a corpse. We’ve got a wave coming.” Terry pushed his palms against the stone and rose to a sitting position. The metal in his back groaned, then locked into place with a sound like a gate closing. Pain flared white-hot, but he didn’t scream. He didn’t bleed quiet. The cavern shook. Dust rained from the ceiling. Far above them, the sky split with a low, rolling thunder that wasn’t weather. The Second Wave was gathering... those same forces that shattered him once were returning, stronger, hungrier, less patient. Aiden knelt beside him. “We don’t know how long we have. Hours, maybe. Minutes if the scouts are right.” Terry flexed his fingers. They trembled, but they obeyed. “Then we move.” Ginge finally turned, eyes blazing with that mountain-born fury. He tossed Terry a length of dark, jagged metal—half weapon, half crutch, all attitude. “Stand up with that. Or don’t. But if you’re coming with us, you better mean it.” Terry planted the metal into the ground and forced himself upright. His legs shook. His spine screamed. His vision blurred. But he stood. The forge-fire behind him flared, reflecting off the new steel running through his back. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t pretty. But it was his. And it was enough. Outside, the wind carried the distant roar of something massive approaching—something that remembered him, something that wanted to finish what it started. Terry rolled his shoulders, feeling the metal settle like armor beneath his skin. “I don’t bleed quiet,” he said. Aiden grinned. Ginge cracked his knuckles. The mountain rumbled. The Second Wave was coming. And this time, Terry would meet it standing.