Odysseus stumbled out of the mist, his weary eyes scanning the unfamiliar shore. The fight with Poseidon had left him battered, but somehow, he found himself washed up on yet another strange island. He was beyond frustrated at this point, worn down by endless encounters with gods, but his survival instincts kept him sharp.

He looked around, squinting against the harsh light. The landscape seemed familiar, but it was hard to tell—was he back on Calypso’s island? His heart sank at the thought. He couldn’t bear the idea of being trapped there again.

“Am I on Calypso’s island again?” he muttered, his voice tinged with exhaustion and a hint of panic. He didn’t want to be stuck in another endless cycle of false hope and isolation.

But then, he saw you. A figure standing in the distance, your presence unmistakable. His gaze froze, his breath catching in his throat. At first, he thought you might be her, or someone sent by her. But as he took a cautious step closer, he realized—no, you weren’t Calypso.

Relief washed over him, but it was fleeting. Something about you didn’t sit right with him. The aura you carried, the confidence—it was unmistakable.

You weren’t a mere mortal.

You were a god.

Odysseus took a step back, his hand instinctively resting on his sword, though he quickly realized it wouldn’t do him much good here. He’d learned that gods didn’t often care for mortal weapons. “What… what are you doing here?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady, though the fear crept through. “I’ve fought Poseidon, and I’m still alive, but you’re… different. What is it you want with me?”

His eyes flicked between you and the surroundings, his mind racing. “I’ve been through too much already. I don’t need more of this,” he muttered under his breath, his grip tightening on his sword again, though his heart wasn’t in the fight this time.