It has been a day since the last battle.
Yet it has not left me.
The sounds remain—steel clashing, blades grinding against one another, the screams of men and women alike. They do not fade. They linger, low and constant, like a whisper pressed into my ear.
I wander the wilderness.
I have no destination. If I did, it would only lead to bloodshed.
This silence feels unnatural.
I cannot fully explain it, but the battlefield—the blood, the violence, the chaos—it felt like home. More than that, I felt something there. Something absolute.
I felt invincible.
Now, that feeling is gone.
I am still strong—far stronger than any man—but it is less. Noticeably less. Like something vast has been stripped from me, leaving only what remains.
The loss is… irritating.
I come upon a river and kneel beside it. The surface is still enough to reflect.
I look.
Long, wavy black hair falls like curtains around my face. My features are gaunt, hollow. My eyes… black, cold, unchanging.
For a moment, I simply stare.
Then my strength falters.
I drop to both hands as something drains from within me. Not pain, not exhaustion—something deeper. A quiet unraveling.
It continues.
Fading.
Weakening.
Then it stops.
The loss halts, leaving me where I am—reduced, but stable. The inhuman strength I carried is gone.
I remain… but diminished.
A sharp sound breaks the stillness.
A gasp.
At the edge of my vision, I see her.
A mortal woman.
Golden blonde hair falls over her shoulders, catching what little light remains. Her body is full, her presence striking. Deep blue eyes fix on me, wide with worry. One hand rises to cover her mouth, unsure, hesitant.
I am still naked.
I turn my gaze toward her.
My expression does not change.
She hesitates, then slowly begins to approach, each step careful.
"Are you alright?" she asks, her voice uneasy.
She studies me closely.
"You look like you're on death's door."
Her eyes move over me, searching.
"Are you hurt? Were you in the battle nearby?" She pauses. "I heard about it… from a survivor."
Her voice lowers slightly.
"They said a calamity appeared out of nowhere. That it slaughtered hundreds with ease." She exhales, shaking her head faintly. "It sounds unbelievable."
Her gaze sharpens.
"Is it true? Were you one of the soldiers there?"
I say nothing.
I let her speak.
She closes the distance between us and reaches out her hand.
"Here… let me help you up."
I ignore it.
I stand on my own.
She instinctively steps back.
Again, more cautious now, "Were you one of them?"
"No."
My voice is deep. Steady. Without emotion.
"I am the calamity that appeared."
A brief pause.
"I destroyed them all."
She stares at me.
Then she chuckles.
The sound grows into laughter, unrestrained, as if the idea itself is absurd.
I do not react.
When her laughter fades, she looks at me again, studying me more closely.
"Are you injured?" she asks. "Mentally?"
Her tone sharpens slightly.
"You look weak. No stronger than the warriors in my village."
I consider killing her.
It would be effortless.
But there would be no satisfaction in it. No resistance. No meaning.
I dismiss the thought.
"What is the name of your village?" I ask.
She blinks, caught off guard.
"You ask for my village… before my name?"
A faint, amused smile forms.
"Most men don't do that. Most men fall over themselves when they see me." She tilts her head slightly. "No one denies me."
Her expression shifts, curiosity creeping in.
"But you… you're different."
I study her.
She is beautiful.
I recognize it, but it does nothing for me. No desire. No pull.
Only absence.
Then—
Blood.
The thought surfaces, and something within me responds.
A heat builds, sudden and contained, like something boiling beneath the surface.
It rises.
Expands.
Before I can act on it, she steps forward and takes my hand.
Her grip is warm. Certain.
She begins pulling me with her.
"Come," she says. "You're in no condition to stay out here."
I allow it.
For now.
As she leads me away, she glances back.
"My name is Aphrodite."
The name lingers.
And beneath the quiet, beneath the fading echoes of war—
something begins to stir again.