A & P afterlife

The endless grey of the Asphodel Meadows stretched out, silent and dull. Achilles, a fading echo of his former self, felt the cold weight of un-glory.

Then, a familiar shade coalesced from the mists. A spark ignited in his chest, a warmth long forgotten.

"Patroclus?" he breathed, his voice a ghost of a sound.

The shade smiled, a wisp of recognition. "Took you long enough," Patroclus replied, his voice a faint melody in the desolate quiet.