One day my shield will fail me, and I won't know what to do.

My armor will crack, what next? Repair the set, I guess, but it never comes out the same, does it?

The enemy is invincible, it cannot be defeated. I only level up enough to gain the strength to become the immune to its attacks.

What is the enemy? Sorrow. And only the strongest come out alive to tell their tales. Don't worry, you're one of the strongest.

You read it, yeah, I said you. Your enemy shackled you to the floor at one point and beat you to a pulp I bet, or maybe you're stuck there now, and maybe the enemy's caught you off guard multiple times.

But you're still fighting, aren't you? Maybe you're on the last strand of life though, and you wish you had the strength to cut it. You think to yourself, 'well no, that's not fighting at all anymore, is it?'

Oh, it's still fighting, and it's that moment that makes outwitting the enemy so worth it in the end.

'Well okay, how do I outwit the enemy?'

You keep fighting. It's much harder than anyone could ever possibly think though, right? But that's it, you just have to keep fighting. Maybe you have friends along the way to help or maybe you don't. Either way, you'll win the battle, and how long it takes to gain the strength to become immune doesn't matter. And how long the healing and recovery process is during and after the battle don't matter.

This isn't just a battle, it's war. You feel like every punch from them is stronger and every kick is bone breaking. They're quick to dodge that they're just a blur and now you can't even think straight at this point.

This doesn't mean you're weak, and you're never too weak. They're just cheating and using unfair advantages. But keep going, you're doing great.

Keep enduring the pain. After a time the enemy grows tired, unbearably tired, like how you felt when you didn't want to fight anymore. They hover for a time, with lingering effects that still knock you off your feet.

Let sorrow in and cry it out, but never, and I repeat, never let it consume you. You're not gone yet. You can still be found, it has to be you that finds yourself.

They disappear one day, with no trace except for one thing.

You. You're still alive. Might be worn out, bruised, scarred, and/or fallen over, but you're still here.

In my books, that is a win.

Here you are, to tell the tale of a war you never thought you'd win.