I enter this world knowing it is not kind.

​

I acknowledge that stories carry weight—
that they shape memory, identity, and choice.

​

I swear to tread thoughtfully among what was written,
what was lost,
and what was never meant to be found.

​

I accept that truth here may be fractured,
that loyalty is rarely clean,
and that power always asks a price.

​

I will not mistake cruelty for strength,
nor silence for innocence.

​

I bear witness to what was lost,
and to what endured.

​

I enter the Archives not as a hero,
but as one who remembers.