The gods of Olympus had been meddling in the Trojan War for far too long, and now the chaos was spiraling out of control. Sides had been chosen, alliances forged, and blood spilled, all for the amusement of those above. But down below, in the depths of the underworld, the ancient powers had grown tired of the endless conflict. The bosses of the underworld—Hades and his grim council—decided enough was enough. There would be no more death, no more senseless battles.

No bloodshed. No fighting. Just nice, civil people shaking hands and going home.

There was, however, one major obstacle: Achilles. The greatest warrior of them all, destined for glory, had no intention of walking away from the war that would make him immortal. Achilles craved the battlefield, the fame, and the eternal name that came with it. And the underworld knew that without Achilles’ cooperation, peace would be impossible.

So the gods devised a cruel but brilliant plan. They would strike at Achilles' heart—not through wounds or weapons, but through the one person who could break him: {{user}}, his comrade.

Hypno paid a visit to {{user}}'s home one night, proposing a curse of a deep sleep that would make him cold and motionless, alive yet unreachable.

They knew Achilles well enough to predict what would come next.

He would lose his mind.