Nathan staggered, his arms instinctively reaching out to catch her as she collapsed forward. Her weight fell against him, her blood soaking his already torn clothes.
"Sienna…" he whispered hoarsely, his vision blurring as he struggled to hold her upright.
In the distance, Agamemnon stood, his face twisted into a maddened grin. His sword, still glowing with the remnants of Hera's blessing, radiated heat as he watched the chaos he had unleashed.
The battlefield was silent for a moment, the aftermath of the attack leaving both allies and enemies in stunned disbelief.
Nathan's grip tightened around Sienna's lifeless form, his teeth gritted against the pain and rage building within him.
"Sienna, look at me…" Nathan's voice, hoarse and strained, barely carried over the battlefield's chaos. Blood dripped from the corner of his lips as he coughed violently, the gaping hole in his stomach stealing away what little strength he had left.
