Cold Metallurgy

True armament requires no superfluous ornament, only cold geometric intent. Within a sheltered foundry alcove beneath the collapsed colonnade, I secured three square plates of dense salvage alloy. Pinning the stock beneath my treaded boot, I used a hardened chisel wedge to score precise diagonal bisectors, parting the stubborn metal into symmetrical four-pointed stars and tapered kunai spikes. With rhythmic, unhurried passes of my abrasive stone, I dressed each facet until the bevels converged into razor-keen edges. Balanced across the tip of my gauntlet, each projectile settled into absolute stillness. Retribution is at its most potent when shaped by deliberate patience.