𝑷𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑨𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒔

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐀𝐑 🌌

I bolted through the narrow passageways of Troy, my heart pounding, breath coming in ragged bursts. The city seemed to stretch on forever, the ancient stones now cold and foreign beneath my feet. Shadows reached for me, and I couldn't shake the feeling that unseen eyes were watching from the darkness. I had to reach him. Achilles was waiting—he had to be. But as I neared the city's edge, the noise of the Greek camp filled the air, their fires flickering in the distance like ominous stars. Hector's words echoed in my mind, warning me of the danger. I shook them off. I had to trust my instincts. Crossing into enemy territory, I felt a shift in the air. The Greek camp loomed ahead, but the men standing guard did not welcome me. Their eyes followed me with suspicion, hands resting on their weapons. Hostility hung thick, suffocating. I slowed, heart racing as I tried to steady my breath, but their cold stares unnerved me. I took a step closer, but one of them grabbed my arm roughly.

"Where do you think you're going?" the man sneered, breath hot against my face.

"I'm here for Achilles," I managed to say, voice trembling with a mix of fear and determination.

They laughed—a cruel, mocking sound that sent chills through me. To them, I was nothing more than a Trojan spy, a woman lost in the wrong place. I tried to pull away, but their grip tightened, the camp around me growing darker, their figures looming like giants.

"She's not going anywhere," another voice growled. "Take her."

Panic surged through me, fueling desperate thrashes against their hold. I had to break free. My nails dug into their arms, but they were stronger, laughter growing louder as they toyed with me like prey. My heart pounded, blood roaring in my ears.

...Athena, help me.

Then, as if the sky answered, everything shifted. A sudden gust of wind swept through the camp, making the men stumble. Their hands loosened just enough. I wrenched free, instinct guiding me as I bolted toward the open field beyond the camp. Their shouts followed, but I didn't dare look back.

I ran.

My legs burned, lungs screamed for air, but I couldn't stop. The ground flew beneath my feet, Greeks close behind, footsteps thundering in pursuit. I could hear armor clanking, curses rising with each second. My heart pounded harder, fear clawing at my throat. Just as I felt the cold fingers of one of them graze my back, a blinding light erupted before me. I stumbled, shielding my eyes, but what I saw froze me in place.

Athena.

Her form shimmered like the moon, eyes fierce and unyielding. The Greeks faltered, weapons lowered in confusion. The air crackled with her power, swallowing the night whole. Her gaze locked onto mine, and I felt her protection wrap around me like an invisible shield. The men backed away, muttering curses, their fear palpable. The heat of their chase melted away, leaving me standing alone under the goddess's watchful gaze. She was gone as quickly as she had come. The cold air stung my face as I ran, each breath a sharp reminder of the chill surrounding me. But despite the biting wind, all I could fixate on was the flicker of fires glowing ahead—the camp where Achilles waited. My heart hammered, not from fear but an overwhelming surge of hope. I had made it back to him, the man who had filled my thoughts and dreams during my absence. But the sight of the Greeks' banners reminded me of war's chaos, blood clinging to everything. An undeniable foreboding struck me; the atmosphere felt different—heavy, burdened by the weight of harsh, unfriendly gazes. Their eyes bore into me, unyielding, swirling with unspoken judgments.

Ignoring their murmurs, I pressed through the throng, each step reverberating through my heart until I spotted him. There he stood, tall and imposing, back turned to me, engulfed in the flickering firelight. Achilles.

"Achilles!" I gasped, voice breathless from the run, anxiety clawing at my insides. I had returned for him, and that singular truth propelled me forward.

He turned slowly, eyes sweeping over me in a chilling appraisal. The same coldness enveloped me, piercing deeper, sharper. I had anticipated anger or perhaps relief—something to indicate that my return mattered. Instead, I met chilling indifference, striking me hard. It felt as though I were a mere shadow in his world, no more significant than dirt underfoot.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, voice low and rough, a growl in his tone. No warmth, no concern—just unmistakable impatience. I felt small beneath his gaze, the fires dancing behind him.

"I came back for you," I managed, voice cracking under the moment's intensity. Determination coursed through my veins, urging me to stand firm before this titan, clinging to the foolish hope he might understand.

Achilles's eyes were hard as stone, unyielding, as if my words barely registered—mere background noise to the roar of conflict around us. Just when I thought he might respond, he turned away, dismissing me like an unwelcome gust of wind. "You shouldn't have come," he stated, tone final, devoid of debate.

"Achilles, I—" I began, desperate to bridge the gulf that had suddenly grown between us.

But he cut me off with an abrupt gesture, eyes narrowing with fierce intensity. "You don't belong here, Sabryna. Do you understand? Do you truly think this is a game? That you can run back into the middle of war, believing your feelings matter?"

He stepped closer, towering over me as if to suffocate, voice coated with disdain. "You're a distraction. You're nothing here." Each word felt like a blow, striking against the armor of my determination.

I recoiled, pain blooming in my chest at his sharp words. The Achilles I had envisioned returning to, the fierce warrior I thought I knew, had become cold, unyielding—an embodiment of ice.

"You don't get it," he snapped, emptiness echoing between us. "You think you're in love with me? You think this is about love? This is war, Sabryna. I am war. And you're just another complication I don't need."

Anger flared within me, awakening the fiery spirit that had driven me here. "But I—"

He stepped forward, eyes boring into mine with relentless fury. "You don't belong in this world. You're a woman. You're not going to understand what it means to stand amidst chaos and bloodshed. You never will. And if you think your presence means anything, you're more foolish than I thought."

My heart ached as his words sank deep, the sting cutting through my resolve more painfully than any blade. What hurt most was the undeniable truth woven through his disdainful proclamations. To him, I was nothing—just another fragile being in a world built for gods and titans, hopelessly adrift in a sea of violence and ambition.

"Go back," he ordered, voice dropping to finality that sent a chill racing up my spine. "Before you get hurt. Or worse." I stood there, grappling with the gulf of his indifference and my shattered hopes, as the reality of my situation settled around me like a shroud.