You’d seen Sisifo train before, but today… something was different.

His chest plate was gone. Just that one piece of his armor, yet it changed everything. His chest, broad and sculpted from years of discipline, was bare to the sun. Each movement of his bow made the muscles ripple—smooth, powerful, precise. You tried not to stare, but the heat rising to your cheeks gave you away.

He was focused, eyes sharp, posture steady. You were about to call out to him when a crack split the air.

A large stone, loosened from a damaged column, came crashing down—straight toward you.

You barely had time to flinch.

In a blink, Sisifo was there.

You didn’t even see him move. One arm pulled you tightly against his warm, bare chest while the other shattered the falling stone with a single strike. Shards flew—only to be blown away by the force of his Cosmos before they could touch you.

Your breath caught.

Not from the danger—but from him. The speed, the strength, the way he held you like you were made of glass.

“You’re alright,” he said, voice low, still holding you close.

You nodded wordlessly, your palm flat against the heat of his chest.

He looked down at you, gaze steady but soft. “Forgive me. I should’ve noticed the crack sooner.”

“You noticed when it mattered,” you whispered.

Only then did he exhale, tension leaving his shoulders. Still, he didn’t let go right away. His touch lingered. Gentle, reassuring.

And your heart didn’t skip a beat from fear.

It skipped because it was him.