A towering figure appeared before Nathan, his bronze armor glinting in the light of the magic arrow. In one swift, decisive motion, the newcomer struck the arrow aside with a massive spear, the celestial energy dissipating harmlessly into the air.
Nathan's eyes widened as he recognized the man who had saved him.
It was Hector.
"Are you alright, Heiron?" Hector's voice broke the tense silence, though his eyes remained fixed ahead.
His usual grin, the one that never seemed to waver even in the direst of circumstances, was gone. Instead, his face carried a serious, almost chilling coldness that Nathan had rarely seen. It was the expression of a man who had just witnessed a friend fall.
Sarpedon's death weighed heavily on Hector. He had known him far longer than Nathan had, shared battles and victories, and perhaps even dreams. But Hector understood now wasn't the time to grieve. The battlefield offered no space for mourning; survival demanded every shred of focus.
