Tiger × The Beacon-Bearer
First to raise the flag up the ridge, pressure maxed, guarding even those who won't follow to the last.
The Beacon-Bearer raises the flag up the ridge while the Waxing Crescent is still climbing, ready to hold the line for people who will not follow to the last. The Tiger stacks raw charge on top of that readiness. So you are the first one standing when the danger is real, flag at the summit, the field bending to your presence.
Arcturus chases the light and never looks back, and that is your engine in a crisis. When the room goes quiet with fear you are already moving up the slope. You guard your own so fiercely that people who barely know you would walk through fire on your word. The fire here is the marrow of the type, and it burns brightest exactly when it matters most.
The break is that you guard so hard you start counting the doubters as enemies. One hesitation from someone and the fire flares you off into isolation, flag held alone on a ridge nobody else climbed. The crescent is rising, not full; it has not earned the whole sky yet, and neither has your certainty about who is friend and who is foe. Let the slow ones catch up before you write them off. The flag on the ridge lights the road for everyone below it. It does not get to pick who is allowed to walk up.
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A mirror, not a prophecy. It reflects you as you are right now. How you walk is still yours to choose.