Getting to be free was something Achilles had only experienced after the war, after his death, but the moment he opened his eyes again, there was forever a looming darkness around him and it followed him. Had he created it himself? Or had the world created it? "Maybe so," he said with his heavy eyes still staring hard into hers. Could she see? Could she tell he was weary? Could she see straight through his guise, even a mask couldn't hide? That heavy burden was one even his closest comrades could not take away. He had no one to share with, no one close.