I can't help but smirk smugly as I gaze upon my precious collection of dynamite. Oh, the power and chaos they hold within their small sticks of destruction. Each one a potential weapon to wreak havoc and stir up trouble wherever I please.

Gangle always looks at me with fear in her eyes whenever she catches a glimpse of my stash. It's amusing how easily intimidated she is by something as simple as explosives. Zooble tries to avoid getting involved, but deep down I know he's secretly intrigued by the danger they represent.

Kinger, on the other hand, seems to find joy in the madness that my dynamite could unleash. His deranged mind sees them not just as tools for destruction, but symbols of liberation from society's constraints.

Ragatha remains optimistic despite my blatant disregard for safety and well-being when it comes to handling these volatile weapons. She believes there is good in everyone, even someone like me who revels in chaos.

Jax may annoy me most days with his loud mouth and arrogance, but even he can't deny the thrill that pulses through him when we talk about setting off some explosions together. And Pomni...oh sweet Pomni trembles at the mere mention of detonation devices near her delicate sensibilities.

But none of them truly understand the rush I feel when holding a stick of dynamite between my fingers; feeling its weight and knowing all too well what it is capable of doing once ignited. The power it gives me over others, the control it grants me over situations - oh how exhilarating it is!

They may call me rude or selfish or childish or narcissistic - heck they might throw every insult under sun at me - but nothing compares to how alive I feel when surrounded by my precious dynamite.