On Mount Olympus, while the gods were still finishing organizing the details of the heroes' tournament, Zeus walked calmly through one of the long marble corridors of the divine palace. His expression showed a faint expectation, as if he knew he would not have to wait long to receive a visitor.
Suddenly, a shadow began to spread along the corridor. It was not a simple darkness: the shadows slid like living smoke, crawling along the floor and the walls until they enveloped the entire hallway. However, the king of the gods showed not the slightest sign of alarm; on the contrary, a calm smile appeared on his face.
"It's been a long time since I've seen you, Eris" said Zeus in a serene tone.
The shadows responded to his greeting by slowly drawing closer to him. They swirled around his face as if they were invisible fingers, brushing his cheek and beard with an unsettling familiarity. Little by little, that darkness began to take shape until it became the figure of a woman floating in the air before him, upside down, her face just inches from his and a smile full of malice.
"Zeus…" she whispered in a voice that mixed a playful tone with an almost sinister echo. "What have you been plotting lately?"
The god tilted his head slightly, amused.
"Why does everyone think I'm plotting something?"
Eris released the god's face and slowly spun in the air until she stood upright before him.
"Because, when it comes to you, it's hard to tell when you do something out of mere whim…" she replied, tilting her head with a sharp smile. "And when you do it for a hidden reason."
The goddess spread her arms in an exaggeratedly theatrical gesture.
"Or perhaps" she added with a mocking gleam in her eyes. "You're simply very good at inventing elegant reasons to justify your whims."
Zeus's smile faded slightly.
"What is it that you want?" he asked in a dry voice.
Eris descended slightly in the air, drawing closer to him with the lightness of a feather carried by the night.
"I demand my right to choose a participant in this tournament you are organizing."
Zeus raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest, watching her calmly.
"You demand?"
"That's right…"
The goddess drew even closer, almost brushing against him. Between her fingers, the darkness surrounding her began to gather, spinning like a small dark whirlwind until it solidified into a gleaming golden apple that shone even in the gloom.
"After all" Eris continued, "I was the one who did the dirty work for you with the apple."
Zeus contemplated the object for a moment. Then, with a simple wave of his hand, as if brushing aside an insignificant nuisance, he undid the fruit. The apple shattered into threads of shadow that dissipated into the air, returning to the darkness from which they had been born.
"Very wel" Zeus finally said.
Without adding anything else, the god resumed his walk down the corridor, turning his back on the goddess of discord.
"I bet you'll choose someone interesting" he remarked over his shoulder.
Eris remained floating in the middle of the corridor, with a smile that seemed to widen the shadows around her.
"Of course" she replied softly. "I already have someone in mind."
________________________________________
Back at Asclepius's clinic. Achilles pushed himself upright with evident effort. The bandage covering part of his abdomen pulled at his skin every time he moved, and even the simple act of breathing still sent stabs of pain spreading through his entire body.
At his side, his mother, the sea nymph Thetis, held him carefully as he got to his feet. Achilles leaned part of his weight on her as he tried to take a few steps, though his body protested with every movement.
"Are you sure you want to go out?" Thetis asked with evident concern. "You can barely stay on your feet."
Achilles let out a short exhale through his nose and took another step, slow but firm.
"Of course" he replied stubbornly. "The winner of the next match will end up being my next opponent. It would be absurd not to see firsthand who I'll have to fight."
Thetis frowned but did not respond. She knew all too well that trying to convince her son once he had made a decision was almost impossible.
At that moment, both of them began to hear voices coming from the nearby corridor. One of them was familiar, unmistakable even without seeing it. Achilles and Thetis exchanged a brief glance; there was no need to say it out loud to recognize that it belonged to Asclepius.
"Please…" the physician pleaded with an almost desperate intensity.
"No" another voice replied, dry, short, without the slightest hint of doubt.
The two figures finally appeared in the corridor in front of them. Asclepius walked leaning forward, almost begging, while the person he was following moved ahead without stopping. It was a girl completely wrapped in a dark robe. The hood was pulled so low that it completely hid her face, leaving only the faint shadow of her chin visible.
"I beg you" Asclepius continued with an emotion that bordered on obsession. "Your biology is the most fascinating and aberrant thing I have had the opportunity to observe in centuries. Please! Just let me analyze how your body works. Imagine it… the discoveries we could make!"
The girl turned her head just slightly to glance at him from beneath the hood. The gesture was minimal, but full of contempt.
"Degenerate."
The word fell like a stone.
Asclepius stopped in his tracks. His shoulders slowly sank as he lowered his gaze, humiliated by the response. For a few seconds, he looked more like a scolded child than the great physician of the gods.
"Asclepius!" Thetis intervened in a firm tone. "Stop bothering the girl. It's obvious you're making her uncomfortable."
The physician immediately raised his head.
"But it's just that…" he began to protest, moving his hands nervously. "You don't understand! It's a unique opportunity from a medical standpoint. Her physiology is completely anomalous, extraordinary, impossible according to all known principles of—"
"You don't need a scientific treatise to realize that she doesn't want to" Thetis interrupted, crossing her arms.
Asclepius opened his mouth to respond, and soon both of them began to argue in a low but intense voice, exchanging reproaches and arguments as if they had completely forgotten the presence of the others.
The girl, for her part, simply ignored them.
Without stopping, she slightly lifted her gaze. Her eyes, hidden in the shadow of the hood, went straight to Achilles.
The hero, intrigued by the mysterious figure, tried to tilt his head to see her face beneath the shadow of the hood.
Then he saw it.
The instant his eyes met hers, his entire body reacted instinctively. His muscles tensed with the same violence as in the middle of the battlefield, as if his body had recognized a mortal enemy before his mind could even process it. A cold sweat ran down his back, and every fiber of his body, even wounded, prepared itself for battle.
But he couldn't react.
He couldn't move forward. Nor retreat.
His light feet seemed to have taken root in the ground. It was a completely unknown sensation to him. Achilles, the fastest of heroes… was motionless.
Petrified. Yes. That was the exact word.
The girl held his gaze for just a second longer, completely expressionless, and then simply kept walking as if he did not exist.
Thetis, noticing her son's sudden silence, abandoned the argument with Asclepius and quickly approached him.
"My dear, are you all right?" she asked in alarm when she saw his face. "You're pale… what's wrong?"
Achilles did not respond immediately. His eyes remained fixed on the figure that was slowly walking away down the corridor, wrapped in her dark robe.