Centurions Do Centurion

Roman Soldiers would carve NFFNSNC into their shields. A rough translation from the high-school Latin class that I regularly skipped to smoke weed in the back parking lot in a 1971 Chevy Nova reveals that NFFNSNC is an acronym translating to: Non, Fui , Fui, Non Sum, Non Curo.
Which was the Roman way of letting soon-to-be-defeated (except Hannibal) uncivilized tribes in on the dudes with pointy spears marching in perfect formation's motto:
"I Was Not, I Was, I Am Not, I Do Not Care".

You gotta admit, that's about as baller a sentiment for a soldier as it gets.

Like, if you're a Saxon tribesman wearing a rotting bear-hide and waving a club with a rock strapped to the end using six feet of a previous enemy's achilles tendon, you're likely to start re-appraising the wisdom of berzerking across that river to get busy with NFFNSNC centurions.
Because not only is their motto saying, "I was not afraid before I was born, and I will remain unafraid after I die," it is also saying "I am a cog in a machine of violence, and a cog cares about itself even less than the violence of the machine that will exert itself without mercy regardless."
That's a turn around and walk away sentiment.

It is also one I am a big fan of, even as it applies to the mundane and non-violent actions of daily life.

I have no concrete political or spiritual identity, but I am a Stoic, which by definition means calling yourself a Stoic is ridiculous, but mainly means that the power and haircuts and leader-adulation and Italian suits and stacks of bitcoin are all as worthless now as they will be after you expire.

So, in the end, there is only the movement of the machine, and how we experience our individual Cog-dom, but, most importantly, the degree to which we, by our actions, improve or diminish the lives of all the cogs around us while we're still, very briefly, around.