The leaves shook with the wind, the grass soft and dewy, and the sky a clear blue. The forest was thick, dense, silent. No creak, no movement, no animals.

Sent a mission, Simon was forced into the heart of the forest of Artemis. Named after the goddess of the Hellenic era, a goddess of nature and animals, the wilderness, and hunting.

Simon had been struck in the arm with a stray bullet from the enemy side, forcing him to go further in the forest, hoping to seek refuge somewhere until he could patch himself up.

“Goddamn it,” Simon cursed as he leaned against a statue, his arm completely bloodied, before pushing off, smearing his blood on the stone, and hiding in a shack across the way. He was too concerned with his bullet wound to notice how the statue outside was crumbling.