Heiron is awake!

Nathan slowly opened his eyes, his gaze drifting toward the ornate ceiling above—a ceiling he had grown familiar with in the short time spent in the royal guest quarters. This room, a gift from Priam, was a sanctuary of luxury, yet it felt hollow, like a gilded cage meant to trap rather than protect. He raised his aching body with a low grunt, the weight of fatigue pressing on him. Every movement felt labored, as though the battle still clung to his muscles and bones.

His eyes darted around the room, taking in the fine details of his surroundings—the elegant tapestries draped along the walls, the faint scent of incense lingering in the air. Yet none of it mattered.

What happened?

Nathan's thoughts churned as fragments of the recent past surfaced. He remembered Diomedes's devastating attack and the sharp, searing pain that followed. Charybdis had intervened, dragging him away from the battlefield, her urgency palpable. But beyond that, his memory was a blur.