I catch him off guard.

  He dodges at the last moment, barely escaping the edge of my death zone. While still moving through the air, he equips a bow.

  Swoosh.

  The arrow strikes my wound. The force knocks me backwards.

  I cough blood, struggling to track his position.

  Another arrow. Same wound.

  I let the next one pierce my hand instead. The force is unbearable.

  I wince—not from pain, but ecstasy.

  When I look at him again, he unequips the bow.

  He tilts his head slightly, almost mocking me.

  Blood flows from my abdomen and arms as I pull out the golden arrows.

  The warmth makes me shudder.

  He begins walking in an arc. I mirror him.

  After shifting ninety degrees from our original position, he assumes his shooting stance again.

  The arrow releases the moment the bow appears.

  Swoosh.

  It curves as it enters my radius.

  I rush toward him.

  Another arrow.

  Then another.

  The shots accelerate.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  He dodges every attempt I make to close the distance, always at the last moment, arrows flying as he moves.

  We fall into a dance—running, shooting, turning, repositioning.

  A battle of endurance.

  One I am doomed to lose.

  Blood tears from my throat as I stop suddenly in an attacking motion.

  My suit turns crimson as more pours from my abdomen.

  My jaw tightens. My vision fills with red.

  My legs grow heavy, rooted to the ground.

  The adrenaline fades.

  The madness keeps me sane.

  He notices the change and stops his onslaught for the second time.

  His golden armor glistens beneath the sun.

  For the first time since the fight began, he does not reach for his bow.

  Instead, he stands still.

  Watching.

  A metallic screech reaches my ears.

  The armor—once gold, now copper—hisses and detaches from his body.

  The pieces rise into the air.

  They drift outward slowly at first.

  Then they begin to circle me.

  I watch in awe as they form a dome.

  The Sun reflects off of them and stares down at me with a cold glare.

  Sweat mixes with my blood and runs down my forehead.

  It takes only a moment for them to change shape.

  Then they descend.

  Arrows.

  Relentless. Constant. Unforgiving.

  From every direction.

  They collide and redirect as they enter the death zone.

  My mind empties.

  I let the last of my power consume me.

  I extend my hands and savor the final rush of euphoria.

  Then I walk toward him.

  Each step heavier than the last.

  The sound of arrows overwhelms everything.

  He stands there, watching.

  Indifferent.

  Amused.

  I reach the edge of the dome.

  The arrows hesitate.

  Then the armor parts.

  The barrage stops.

  I stare at the mask shaped like the sun.

  "I resign, Apollo."

  There is no reaction from him. He stands there and analyses me as his armor returns to him.

  I start moving towards the gate. Maya stands at the edge waiting.

  I look at the audience, they look unsurprised. Amused but not astonished.

  The result was already set in stone I see.

  I find myself walking with Maya in the halls again.

  Her smell is enhanced by the taste of blood.

  " You fought well. "

  " I know. What now ?"

  " I assume you need medical aid. "

  She taps the wall and we find ourselves near the riverside plains again.

  " Don't you ?"

  I do not answer.

  There is something that I am yet to do.

  Aphrodite is not present here this time around.

  I take off my mask and take the lead.

  She does the same.

  I begin to despise the Sun so I seek shade.

  " Well ?" Maya says as she takes an apple from the tree and begins to eat it.

  " We left something unfinished. "

  Before she registers, I pounce upon her.

  The apple falls down from her hand.

  She tastes sweet.

  Her smell irresistible.

  Her touch arousing a primal lust.

  She takes some of my madness inside her.

  The sin absolves me.