The morning sun had barely risen when PLTR stood once again atop its hard-won ground at $119.85.
Behind it lay the shattered green line, now a path paved by victory; ahead, the final gates of $122 gleamed, radiant yet distant.
But as the warrior gazed toward those heights, a subtle chill crept through the air.
The wind — once warm and pushing at its back — began to shift.
Something unseen stirred.
At first, it was a faint resistance, like climbing a hill with each step heavier than the last.
Buyers pressed forward, but their strength no longer carried the same force.
The candles wavered, flickering between green and red, as if uncertain which direction fate would choose.
And then…
the clouds gathered.
A sudden, sharp gust swept across the battlefield.
Without warning, a red streak fell from the sky — a swift, merciless strike.
$119… $118… $117.50…
One by one, the levels gave way beneath the weight of the selloff.
The crowd below gasped, their cheers silenced into stunned whispers.
“A pullback,” said the seasoned watchers.
“No — a test.”
The warrior planted its sword at $117.43, steadying itself against the trembling earth.
This was no defeat.
This was the trial between surges, the quiet before the next roar.
Above, the dashed white line — the ascending path toward $122 — remained unbroken, like a promise waiting to be claimed.
Below, the green line shimmered faintly, its support lingering, a reminder of how far they had come.
In this moment, the battle paused.
The bulls gathered their breath, their resolve.
The bears watched from the shadows, unsure if their strike had been enough.
And the market… waited.
A stillness before the next move.
“We’ve pulled back,” whispered the warrior, “but we have not fallen.”
“The path remains.
The sky above is still ours to claim.”
And as the candles narrowed, coiling in quiet preparation, all eyes turned once again to the horizon.
For though the winds had shifted…
the climb was far from over.