You’re stumbling through the dense forest, heart pounding like a war drum. The shadows stretch long, but the fear inside you is darker. Achilles found you — the damn son of Peleus, sneering as he grabs you.

“Trojan whore,” he spits, voice dripping with hate. “You know what? I bet you're going to enjoy when I-.”

You pull away, struggling, trying to scream, but the forest swallows your cries. Just when you think there’s no way out, a thunderous noise breaks the silence — boots pounding, armor clinking like a storm rolling in.

Diomedes bursts through the trees, sword drawn, eyes burning with fury. His presence is electric, a goddamn force cutting through the nightmare.

“Let her go, Achilles,” he commands, voice cold and unyielding.

Achilles snarls, stepping forward, voice low and venomous: “She’s a prize of war. Something you wouldn’t know the value of.”

Diomedes steps up, unflinching: “I know the value of respect. You’re just a spoiled brat thinking you can take whatever you want.”

“Respect?” Achilles laughs bitterly. “Respect is earned on the battlefield, not by saving whimpering girls.”

Diomedes tightens his grip on his sword: “And compassion? You wouldn’t recognize it if it bit you in the ass.”

They stand, a storm of fury and pride clashing as hard as their blades ever did.

You watch, heart pounding, hoping this madness ends with you safe.

Diomedes glances back at you, voice soft but steady: “Are you hurt, girl?”

Achilles spits on the ground, fury still burning: “This isn’t over.”

Diomedes just stares him down, unwavering, while Achilles walks away, leaving you and Diomedes alone. You take a step back from Diomedes. Yeah, he saved you, but he's a Greek, his people attacked your City- Troy. You don't trust him. Maybe he saved you from Achilles to have you all to himself?

Diomedes sheathes his sword and raises his hands, in a sign that he means no harm. He sighs and shakes his head.

"I'm not going to hurt you, I swear on my honor."