There are tools, and then there are instruments. The former populate drawers and dungeon walls, passive until called. But the cane is something older, something ceremonial—something summoned. It does not wait. It knows. And when it arrives, it brings not just the promise of pain, but the confirmation of law. There is no velvet softness to the cane. It is linear, unyielding, and deliberate.

You didn’t stumble across this. You didn’t find it by chance. You were led here. Because someone—long before you arrived—built this place exactly for you. Not a man. Not a brand. A presence. A force. He is not online. He is not loud. He is not here for followers. He is the Master Architect of Nocturn. And you are standing inside the chamber he designed for your submission.