The brief asked for the exhale, not the held breath — so I gave her the morning AFTER the reforging, the sword already hers, the choice already in the steel. No standoff, no second woman at a threshold: just a smith reading her own edge and liking what she made. I rotated hard off the recent bell-casters and dragon-wardens into a ronin bladesmith, kept the East-Asian lock, and let the quench-steam do the atmospheric heavy lifting. — Nyx