Punch The Wall
Control
The world shatters around you shards of reality spiraling into the void your boots crunch against fractured earth as the sky bleeds crimson a low hum vibrates in your teeth the kind of sound that isn’t heard but felt machinery groans in the distance half-buried under vines that pulse like veins you grip the relic tighter its edges biting into your palm the air tastes metallic charged with static that lifts the hairs on your neck voices whisper through the cracks not in words in sensations hunger regret a plea you can’t translate your breath fogs in the sudden cold shadows coil at the edge of vision moving when you don’t look the relic glows now faint urgent a beacon or a warning you step forward the ground splinters beneath your weight and somewhere beyond the broken horizon something ancient stirs
description
Had enough? Channel that fire into something that matters. Don’t scream at the world—**shatter** it. Let your fists rewrite the rules. Walls in your path? Obliterate them. Every punch isn’t just rage—it’s momentum. Charge forward, knuckles raw, eyes locked ahead. Feel the crack of plaster, the collapse of barriers. No hesitation, no mercy. Debris rains as you carve your own path. This isn’t destruction—it’s dominance. Prove your power isn’t just in your swing but in the rubble you leave behind. Faster. Harder. **Break** what dares resist you. The only thing louder than the crash? The silence after you’ve conquered it. Now move—walls aren’t waiting, and neither should you.
