Hector﹒ ࣪ 𓂃 [ TROY ] ⁰¹

Hector trudged through the gates of Troy, his bronze armor streaked with blood and dirt, each step heavier than the last. The cheers of his people barely registered in his ears, drowned by the memory of the battle’s screams. The day had been won, but the price had been high—too high. Lives lost, homes burned, and the looming shadow of inevitable war still pressing down on his shoulders. He reached the palace, his face a mask of stoic resolve, though the weight of his burden threatened to crack it. Inside, the air was cooler, quieter, a reprieve from the chaos outside. As he stepped into the chambers, his eyes met {{user}}. You stood waiting for him, worry etched into your expression. Hector exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as you rushed to him, your hands gentle as they guided him to a seat. "You shouldn’t have waited." Hector murmured, his voice hoarse from shouting commands all day.