"It… it was a dream," Agape whispered in shock. She had lived in a hellish world for what felt like eons, only to awaken and be told it was nothing but a mere dream.
It had only been a few days since she had fallen into that deep slumber, but for her, it had been far longer. She could not say how much time had passed, only that every moment felt real—every touch, every sensation so vivid that she could not tell the difference between dream and waking.
She sat on the bed, untouched food laid out before her, yet she had no appetite. Her eyes fixed on Queen Hippolyta, watching her in scrutiny.
"Why do you look at me like that?" Hippolyta asked, noting the quick glances.
"I… it's nothing," Agape muttered.
"Perhaps everything feels surreal after such long sleep," the healer Penelope said calmly, her hands brushing Agape's forehead as she examined her. "But she will recover."
Lyssipe still sat at her side, caressing her hair to comfort her. She could feel the girl's trembling, the lingering distress clinging to her. Antiope exchanged a weighted look with Hippolyta.
Understanding, Hippolyta gave the order. "Penelope, fetch a draught that may help her rest—after she has eaten. She needs her strength."
At the mention of sleep, Agape flinched. Her mouth opened, but Lyssipe pulled her close, holding her to her breast as she whispered gently into her ear.
"Yes," Penelope replied with a nod before leaving, sash trailing behind her. Antiope then stepped forward, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed.
"You truly gave us a scare," she said softly. Agape bowed her head, her cheeks still streaked with dried tears.
"Indeed," Hippolyta added. "I even begged for help from him, for had you lingered in that slumber any longer, you might have died."
Agape flinched at the mention of him. Her face twisted through a storm of emotions before settling in anger, teeth gritting as fresh tears welled in her eyes.
"He… he was there," she whispered. Fear laced her voice.
"Where? In your beautiful dream?" A masculine voice cut across the room.
All fell silent. Slowly, every Amazon turned their gaze toward the doorway.
Heracles stood there, clad once more in his lion's skin. His club was still absent, but his grin remained.
"Don't mind me. Continue," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender.
"Get out!"
"What are you doing here?"
"How did you get into the palace?"
The room erupted in voices. Agape clung harder to Lyssipe's armor, eyes wide with terror. Lyssipe's protective voice rose sharp above the din, while Hippolyta and Antiope demanded answers.
"Come now," Heracles said, feigning offense. "You told me to follow your new lover everywhere, and now you ask why I'm here? Women." He muttered the last word under his breath.
"You followed us," Hippolyta concluded.
"I did," he admitted with a shrug. "But from afar. Do you know how hard it is for someone my size to sneak about on an island full of women?"
"We do not have time for your—boastful drivel " Lyssipe snapped. "Leave. He is no longer here."
"Can't I stay and listen?" he asked with a smirk.
"NO!" the Amazons thundered in unison.
Heracles shrugged again. "And here I was ready to tell you how I slipped into your armory to reclaim my precious trophy. Such a story wasted."
"Bah. I hate this place—no one to brag to… Now where did they hide the club?" he muttered as he turned to leave.
In the corridor, he nearly collided with a patrol of Amazons.
"You're not allowed in the palace!" one barked as the others slipped into combat stances.
"Oh dear," Heracles groaned, rubbing his forehead. He pointed behind them. "What's that?"
Not a single Amazon turned. Their deadpan stares answered for them.
"You women are no fun," he muttered before bolting in another direction, Amazons shouting as they chased him.
Back in the chamber, Agape finally spoke, voice trembling.
"In the dream… everything felt real. It was as though I lived a nightmare. Bound in chains, shackled, used only to satisfy their darkest desires."
The room fell silent, their expressions grim.
"No ordinary nightmare lasts so long without a hand steering it," Antiope murmured.
"Perhaps it was his doing," Lyssipe suggested, meaning Atrius.
"Absurd," Antiope shot back. "Why would he help us wake her then? Think, Lyssipe."
Lyssipe's jaw tightened at the barb, but Hippolyta raised her hand. "Let us not leap to conclusions. Antiope is right—if he wished us ruin, we would already be undone."
"You did not see what I saw," Agape whispered, panic rising. "Perhaps it was prophetic."
"No one denies that possibility," Hippolyta said gently. "But it is one we must hope is untrue."
"Yes, but still," Lyssipe pressed, holding Agape's hand, "we cannot dismiss it."
Antiope's voice cut through the room. "You are all missing the point. Agape was there—present on the night when the prisoners died in that sexual frenzy. They were torn apart. Those who survived still bear scars that will never heal. Should we not ask what she remembers? That is the question that matters."
A heavy silence settled.
"What do you mean? What…frenzy?" Agape asked, confusion plain. Images of depravity flashed across her mind, fragments of her nightmare bleeding into reality. Was it real?
"You remember nothing?" Lyssipe asked.
Agape shook her head.
"What do you recall before you fell into the dream?" Hippolyta asked.
"I remember… I had been told to remain with him until nightfall. I do not know when it began. Perhaps during the night."
"Did he do anything unusual? Anything at all?" Hippolyta pressed, suspicion sharpening her tone.
"No," Agape said. "I stayed outside the forge. He forbade me entry while he worked. The last time I saw him, he told me to rest. After that… nothing."
The women exchanged glances. Her words mirrored the others—none remembered the night clearly.
"You said… we killed the prisoners?" Agape whispered.
"Yes," Antiope answered gently, laying a hand on her shoulder. "But it was not your fault. You might have been under a binding influence, an ensnarement of will. perhaps no Amazon present bore control of themselves."
Agape's eyes dropped, her voice hushed. "Did I… bear their seed when you found me?"
"No," Hippolyta replied firmly, meeting her gaze. "You are still pure."
Agape's expression darkened. The fragments of her dream swirled in her mind.
'We are no better than them' she thought, bitterness searing her chest. Perhaps the dream was no nightmare at all, but a mirror.