The specific old hurt sits at one end of you, and dead opposite it a raw power set on tearing everything down to the root and rebuilding it. Chiron and Pluto face across the axis, each defining the other: the wound keeps the pain personal and small, the will to transform keeps demanding you burn through it entirely. Some days you wield intensity precisely to keep from feeling the tender injury. Some days the ache swallows your whole power down whole. One force, two ends. Collapse into either side and it festers; the wound and the will have to stay in each other's grip, straining across the gap, for the depth in you to keep its edge.