The smell of blood and mud was more pungent than ever as Aria tried to adjust her vision in the dim twilight. Dante, the general in black armor, didn't wait for her answer. He gestured, and two guards immediately seized her. Aria's hands instinctively clenched, ready to resist, but she quickly realized she was unarmed, surrounded by dozens of sharp blades. Her elite special agent training told her she needed to adapt.
She was dragged through the battlefield strewn with corpses. Curious, suspicious glances from the soldiers swept over her as if evaluating a strange object. Someone spat, someone whispered venomous words. Aria maintained a cold expression, though her heart churned with a storm. This wasn't a dream. This was a harsh reality.
Dante had ridden ahead, leading his troops toward a makeshift camp erected amidst dense groves of trees. Aria was thrown into an empty tent, not a prison, but certainly not a hospitable place. There was no chair, no water, just a pile of damp, musty straw.
Night fell. The crackling of campfires, the noisy chatter of soldiers, and the clanging of weapons filled the air. Aria lay still, her sharp eyes scanning the tent, searching for an escape route, assessing every risk. She couldn't understand their language perfectly, but she could guess their meaning from their tone and expressions. Clearly, she was either a threat or something strange that needed to be deciphered.
The tent flap suddenly burst open. Dante entered, followed by two guards, carrying a torch. The flickering flame illuminated his chiseled, stern face, highlighting his deep, mysterious eyes. Aria sat up straight, facing him without a hint of fear.
"Which faction's spy are you?" Dante asked, in a language Aria tried to piece together from fragmented memories and knowledge. His voice was deep and husky, carrying an undeniable authority.
Aria decided to tell part of the truth, knowing that lying would only make things worse. "I am not a spy. I came from another place. Another time."
Dante's lips twitched, a sneer faintly playing on them. "How ridiculous. Do you expect me to believe such a wild tale?" He advanced, his shadow falling over her, engulfing her. The scent of leather, steel, and his strong masculine body enveloped Aria, making her instinctively tense.
"I have nothing to lose. I just want to survive," Aria said, her gaze steady. She looked directly at Dante, trying to read him. She didn't see blind violence, but a sharp mind calculating.
Dante stopped in front of her, bending low. The distance between them suddenly closed, alarmingly so. Aria could feel his warm breath on her face. "You are something I have never seen. You carry no weapons of this age, yet your eyes are sharper than any warrior's." He reached out a rough finger and touched the scratch on her temple. A light touch, yet it sent shivers down Aria's spine. It was an examination, a potential act of possession. "So then, tell me, 'one from another age.' What can you do for me?"