Soooo yeah new story I guess, sort of. As this is a partial re write of this story that I posted previously. Achilles is tied for my favourite servant next to Merlin and there's an Achilles in RWBY story that got me wanting to try and wright one. I don't know if I'll pay too much attention to this story again since I deleted it before, but I tried my best to get someone like Achilles written down. It's going to be hard to wright him since he's pretty darn strong and fast when compared to even higher level DxD characters. I'm not gonna say he solos since that wouldn't make the story good, so he will be nerfed by Fate standards. Anyways I hope you enjoy and try to ignore my bad grammar.

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Achilles' final moments during the grail war were a symphony of pain and sorrow, the battlefield around him bathed in an eerie light. Kneeling amidst the chaos, he cradled the fading body of Atalanta, the archer he had come to admire and respect so deeply. Arrows protruded from his battle-worn form, each wound a testament to the fierceness of the conflict that had raged around them. Together, they shared a fragile connection in these fleeting instants before their inevitable return to the Throne of Heroes.

Atalanta's once-piercing gaze now softened as she looked upon Achilles, her strength waning but her spirit unbroken. A weak smile tugged at her lips, a bittersweet expression that conveyed a mix of gratitude and amusement. "What a fool you are, Rider…" her voice, a mere whisper, carried the weight of her fading existence. "I was content with that end… Once I fell, I didn't have the wings to get out of there."

Achilles held her gaze, his own eyes a reflection of the turmoil within him. The warmth of her touch, as she placed a trembling hand against his cheek, sent shivers down his spine. Her touch was a tender embrace of their shared humanity, a final testament to the connection they had forged amid the chaos of the grail war. Her form pulsed with an intense green light, the radiance of her being growing ever more vibrant as she drew closer to her ultimate departure.

"Even so… I wanted to save you" Achilles murmured, his voice barely audible amidst the cacophony of battle that still echoed around them. The corners of his lips tugged upward in a rueful smile, his fingers instinctively brushing against the hand that rested against his face. "What a stubborn idiot I must look like."

A fleeting but genuine smile graced Atalanta's lips, her eyes shimmering with the remnants of life's fire. "Oh, Achilles… you were always one to defy reason" she replied, her voice a delicate whisper that seemed to dance on the edge of existence. "And that's why I admired you." With her final words, her hand slowly withdrew from his face, leaving behind an echo of warmth.

The light around Atalanta intensified, her form fragmenting into countless motes of radiant energy. As if carried by a gentle breeze, these shimmering particles began their ascent, spiraling upwards into the heavens. Achilles watched, his heart heavy with the weight of her departure, yet also filled with a profound understanding of her choice.

His fingers clenched into fists, his gaze remaining fixed on the ascending particles of light. "Sis," he whispered, a mixture of reverence and sorrow lacing his voice, "both you and your dream were both beautiful. When you know more than anyone that your dream is impossible, and your work will never be rewarded… Yet, you still challenge it… you'll surely..." His words were a solemn tribute to her indomitable will, a tribute to the strength she had displayed until the very end.

But before he could say more, a powerful force began to seize him, tearing at his essence and pulling him away from the ethereal spectacle above. The world around him blurred and twisted, reality itself folding in on him. The sensation was disorienting, a whirlwind of colors and sensations that left him momentarily breathless.

When the maelstrom of transformation finally ceased, Achilles found himself in a realm entirely unfamiliar. Gone was the battlefield, the grail war, and even the fading echoes of Atalanta's presence. Instead, he stood amidst a new landscape, one that promised fresh challenges and unforeseen battles. The weight of his armor, the tension in his muscles, and the sensation of life coursing through his veins assured him that this was no dream, but a new reality that he had been thrust into.

Achilles surveyed his surroundings, his gaze sharp and resolute. The story of the legendary hero had indeed taken an unexpected turn. As he prepared to embark on this new journey, his heart burned with a determination that matched the flames of his chariot in times of old. The challenges of this unfamiliar universe may have been unforeseen, but Achilles was no stranger to adversity. With Atalanta's memory as his guiding star, he steeled himself for the battles that lay ahead, embracing his role in this uncharted tale.

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Describing the Throne of Heroes was an enigma in itself, a concept that defied mortal comprehension. Yet, as Achilles opened his eyes to the mysterious forest, the sensation he felt was nothing short of bewildering. The usual transition from the Throne to the mortal realm was a seamless one, a transition marked only by the appearance of a summoning circle and the call of a master. But this, this was entirely different. The air itself seemed to hum with unfamiliar energies, leaving him disoriented yet alert.

His gaze swept across the forested landscape, moonlight casting eerie shadows among the trees. There were no summoning circles, no masters, just him and the stillness of the night. The confusion etched across his features mirrored the chaos that swirled within his thoughts. The words escaped his lips before he could stop them, his voice carrying a mix of frustration and curiosity. "What the hell is going on?"

His hands, clad in his familiar armor, subconsciously tightened around the hilt of his spear. The weight of the weapon was comforting, grounding him in the midst of this strange experience. Achilles' brow furrowed, his mind racing to make sense of his surroundings. "Taken away from the Throne…" he muttered, each word a puzzle piece in a larger mystery. "No information, no context. This is far from a grail war."

His eyes narrowed as a plan formed in his mind. Calling upon his chariot, a tool of his legend that had carried him through countless battles, seemed like a logical step. Raising his hand to his mouth, he let out a piercing whistle, a call that echoed through the night. The sky responded with a flash of lightning, the resounding thunder blending seamlessly with the sound of approaching hooves.

The chariot burst forth, a tempest of power and speed. With the fluid and grace of a seasoned acrobat, Achilles vaulted onto the chariot's platform before it could even come to a stop. The horses, mythical in their nature, obeyed his command as if by instinct. With a snap of the reins, the chariot took to the skies, leaving a trail of sparks in its wake.

Surveying his new surroundings from this elevated perspective, Achilles couldn't help but marvel at the sight. The modern city sprawled beneath him, a vibrant tapestry of lights that illuminated the night. His eyes, honed by countless battles and campaigns, scanned the landscape for any clues that could unravel the mystery he found himself entangled in.

The modern era, entirely foreign to his own time, held both wonder and confusion for him. Achilles' thoughts churned as he considered the implications of this new reality. He mused over his ability to understand languages, a remnant of his previous summoning's, which would prove invaluable in navigating this unfamiliar terrain.

Higher he soared, his figure a fleeting shadow against the moonlit sky. But even as he maintained his altitude to avoid unnecessary attention, he couldn't resist the pull to explore further. In the blink of an eye, he shot across the city's expanse, a comet of legend streaking through the heavens.

Amid his observations, the foreign script that adorned buildings and signs caught his attention. He mused internally, identifying the writing as Asian in origin, though the exact origin eluded him from this distance. With a resolute decision, Achilles steered his chariot away from the city, landing with practiced grace in a secluded spot. His horses, as magnificent as ever, were dismissed with a touch, fading into ephemeral traces of magic.

Achilles was left alone, his thoughts a tumultuous storm as he pondered the nature of this existence. His mind circled back to a singular question: How was his mana being supplied so readily, especially when the consumption of energy by his chariot alone could fuel the summoning of another servant? A sense of unease settled in the pit of his stomach, mingling with the growing list of unanswered questions.

Drawing a deep breath, he sighed softly, his eyes fixed on the city lights in the distance. "More questions, fewer answers," he mused, his voice a blend of frustration and determination.

As Achilles raced across the landscape on foot, his movements a blur of speed just beneath the threshold of a sonic boom. The wind rushed past him, tugging at his hair and armor, a testament to the exhilarating velocity at which he moved. The city's edge approached, marked by the stretch of a bustling highway nearby. With a burst of energy, he alighted on the outskirts. Hidden from the view of the many cars coursing along the roads, Achilles paused to assess his next move.

The prospect of merely entering his spirit form to survey the city was tempting, a choice that would provide him with anonymity and perhaps an advantage in gathering information. Yet, Achilles was not one to shy away from a challenge, and the allure of experiencing this new world firsthand held a charm that he couldn't resist.

Before he 'stepped' into the heart of the city, he sensed the presence of a peculiar bounded field, a magical construct designed to detect and respond to supernatural activity. A knowing grin tugged at the corners of his lips. "A welcoming committee eh?" he muttered to himself, his excitement mounting with every twist in the unfolding narrative. The notion that he wouldn't be able to run rampant without drawing attention only added to the intrigue of his situation.

Without hesitation, he dashed along the rooftops, his feet barely making a sound as he navigated the cityscape with preternatural grace. The rhythm of his movements was a dance that spoke of both power and control. His destination, a plaza at the heart of the urban sprawl, beckoned him.

As he arrived at the plaza's edge, Achilles paused to take in the surroundings. The city came alive beneath the cloak of night, its luminous offerings painting the landscape in an ethereal glow. The plaza itself was a crossroads of commerce and culture, a vibrant hub encircled by a variety of establishments that showcased the diversity of the modern era. Restaurants, a mall, and a towering clock face that marked the passage of time formed a tableau of modernity.

His eyes narrowed, a spark of recognition igniting within him. The text along the shops, as well as the bustling crowds, matched his earlier observations—an affirmation of his earlier assumption that he was indeed in an Asian country. A wry smile touched his lips as he leaned against the rooftop's edge, his gaze fixed on the plaza below. "Definitely gotta be in Japan," he murmured to himself, his voice a low rumble that carried both amusement and intrigue.

Achilles, the ever-vigilant observer, continued to take in the scene, his thoughts a whirlwind of deductions and possibilities. The idea of simply leaping down into the plaza while wearing his armour and wielding a spear, did not seem like the best idea. His stance shifted as he contemplated his options. His eyes flicked to a nearby clothing store, its racks of clothes on display in the fading light. An idea began to form, a plan that would allow him to blend in with the world around him.

He exhaled softly, his breath mingling with the night air. "Taking off the armor won't help without clothes, and that store seems to be closing soon" he mused, his thoughts a blend of practicality and cunning. Achilles had no reservations about bending certain rules, especially when it came to his survival and exploration. 'Not like I haven't stolen anything from a city before' he thought about the time he had stolen Pedasos.

With a decisive nod, he sprang into action. In a display of speed that defied the human eye, Achilles launched himself off the rooftop. His movements were a blur of motion as he landed beside the store's racks, fingers deftly plucking a set of clothes from their hangers. His grin widened, his actions fueled by the thrill of the moment. In the blink of an eye, he was back on the rooftop, his ill-gotten gains clutched in his hands.

Changing into the attire he had 'acquired,' Achilles transformed his appearance, trading his legendary armor for a more inconspicuous ensemble. Black shoes, a white t-shirt, and black shorts formed a casual ensemble, accented by the scarf he wore with a practiced flair. He admired his reflection briefly, the transformation from mythical hero to an average civilian, plus a bright orange scarf and vibrant green hair.

Stepping out of the alley and into the plaza, Achilles reveled in the stares and whispers that followed him. His physical presence, both imposing and magnetic, attracted attention from all corners. He waved to a few onlookers, his grin unabashed and charismatic. A playful wink was directed towards certain ladies who couldn't help but blush and avert their gaze. It was odd for them to see someone who was slightly over six feet tall and full of muscle.

As he blended seamlessly into the urban tapestry, Achilles found himself fully immersed in the vibrant symphony of the city. The excitement of this new adventure coursed through him, every heartbeat a testament to his readiness to embrace whatever challenges lay ahead. With each step he took, he forged his path in this unfamiliar world, a hero out of time navigating the complexities of a modern era.

Achilles' charismatic smile never wavered as he approached a group of women, a touch of intrigue lighting up his eyes. They chatted amongst themselves, a vibrant cluster of voices in the bustling city. With a confidence born from his legendary exploits, Achilles gently interjected into their conversation, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity. "Excuse me, ladies?" he began, his tone polite yet laced with an undercurrent of charm.

Their attention swiftly turned to him, eyes widening slightly at his approach. Four pairs of eyes regarded him, their curiosity evident as they took in his foreign appearance. Achilles held himself with an air of approachable confidence, his demeanor an unspoken invitation for interaction. A girl with long black hair, her cheeks flushed with a blush, managed a shy response, her voice carrying an endearing timidity. "Y-yeah?"

Achilles' smile widened as he continued, his words imbued with the air of a world traveler seeking guidance. "I'm a traveler, and I find myself a bit lost at the moment. Would you lovely ladies mind helping me out?"

A brown-haired girl beside her was the next to speak, her gaze holding a touch of awe as she posed her question. "Where are you from?"

Achilles' response was easy, his tone warm and open. "I'm from Greece" he replied, his smile inviting further conversation.

Their collective reaction was instantaneous, their voices harmonizing in a chorus of astonishment. "Woahhh!"

Curiosity turned the tide of conversation, as a girl with short brown hair inquired further. "What brought you all the way to Japan?"

Achilles' answer was a nonchalant shrug, masking the true nature of his purpose. "Just next on the list" he quipped.

The last girl, a red-haired girl couldn't contain her excitement, her request spilling forth with enthusiasm. "Can I take a picture with you!?"

"Of course!" Achilles' smile was genuine as he agreed.

The girl handed her phone to her friend and positioned herself next to Achilles. As they posed for the picture, he instinctively draped an arm around her, the moment captured in a snapshot. As the camera shutter clicked, the girl's gratitude was evident as she bowed in appreciation. "Thank you, Mr…?"

Achilles' thoughts whirred as he made a quick decision, cautious not to reveal too much of his true identity. "Names Maximus. You can just call me Max," he offered, a name that conveyed strength and familiarity without revealing his true name.

The short brown-haired girl was quick to respond. "Thank you, Max-san."

Achilles' charming demeanor persisted, his gaze sweeping over the group. "So, ladies, mind helping me find my bearings? I'm curious about this place."

Kuoh's offerings spilled forth as the black-haired girl began to explain, and Achilles listened attentively. The more information he gathered, the clearer his understanding of his surroundings became. 'Kuoh' he thought, committing the name to memory, a puzzle piece that fit into the broader map of his new reality.

Their conversation flowed, the red-haired girl pointing out stores, restaurants, and other attractions that Kuoh had to offer. As the short brown-haired girl added her insights, Achilles found himself mentally cataloging the potential places of interest. The desire to explore was strong within him, and he was eager to immerse himself in this world.

"Well, looks like I've got a lot of places to visit" Achilles remarked with a chuckle, his enthusiasm palpable.

A suggestion emerged from the group, an invitation that underscored the welcoming nature of his newfound acquaintances. "We were just about to get some drinks at a local bar. Why don't you come with us?"

The prospect of sharing a drink with the ladies was tempting, but Achilles found himself gently declining, his expression rueful yet determined. "As much as I'd love to enjoy a drink with some beautiful ladies" he began, his tone light, "I wanted to explore a bit more first. Maybe another time?"

Their collective reaction was a chorus of disappointment, their 'aww' a testament to their genuine desire for his company. "Sorry ladies, but maybe I'll see you around sometime," he offered with a wave, his charismatic presence lingering even as he turned and began to walk away.

As he ambled through the city streets, Achilles couldn't help but ponder the situation he found himself in. The idea of flying back to Greece using his chariot was tempting, but the mystery of Kuoh held his attention.

Amidst his wandering, Achilles' heightened senses detected a subtle disturbance in the air. His gaze shifted subtly, his instincts guiding him towards a nearby rooftop. Perched there was an inconspicuous figure, a small bat-like creature that observed him with curious eyes. Achilles' thoughts whirred as he recognized the presence of a familiar—an entity that had latched onto him, a potential ally or threat.

The situation intrigued him, and Achilles' instincts kicked in. A few discreet glances allowed him to assess the 'bat's' features—small wings, ears, and a tail. His mental gears churned, suspicions forming as he deduced that his presence had not gone unnoticed. The awareness of another magical entity tracking him prompted a newfound curiosity—a curiosity that demanded answers.

As he walked through the city streets, Achilles allowed his path to be guided by the presence he felt, a small smile touching his lips. Achilles executed a casual turn into a dark alley. His steps were silent against the pavement, every movement calculated to ensure the familiar trailing him would lose sight of him.

As he waited, his keen senses caught the approaching presence of the bat-like familiar. With a burst of speed, he dashed out of the alley and raced toward the opposite end. The familiar, deceived by the illusion of his absence, reached the alley moments later, its puzzled movements a testament to the effectiveness of his strategy. Which was really just 'run fast and try to find me'.

Taking refuge on a distant rooftop, Achilles crouched in the shadows, his eyes trained on the alley below. Achilles' lips curled into a satisfied smile as the familiar lingered in its fruitless search. A few minutes passed, and then, with a flutter of wings, the bat took flight in a seemingly arbitrary direction.

The decision was made, and Achilles swiftly transitioned into his spirit form. His material body faded into an ethereal presence, a mirage that concealed his physical existence from prying eyes. Distance was his ally as he retreated from the scene, ensuring that even the senses of the familiar couldn't pierce his concealment. He cast one last look toward the bat as it darted through the night, leaving behind a sense of lingering anticipation.

The bat's path was not without purpose. It traversed the city's skyline, its trajectory unerringly guiding it toward a destination of significance—a private hotel. Achilles' keen observation skills allowed him to identify the subtle hints of a bounded field, Chiron's teachings being a boon right now. The realization that there was more at play than he had initially anticipated tempered his impulses, urging caution in the face of the unknown.

Aware that the use of a spirit form came with its own vulnerabilities, Achilles remained vigilant. He watched from his vantage point as the bat circled the area surrounding the hotel before finally alighting on its perch. A sense of intrigue welled within him as he comprehended the significance of the scene before him. A magus or magi resided within the confines of the hotel, their presence hidden behind layers of magic.

The temptation to storm the hotel, to confront the unseen entity head-on, flickered at the edges of his thoughts. However, Achilles' strategic mind prevailed over his impulsive nature. He knew that charging in blindly could lead to dire consequences, especially if the enemy possessed the means to detect him in his spirit form. To risk such exposure was not the best idea, especially since he did not know what other abilities they could posses.

Resolute in his decision, Achilles gradually materialized, his form solidifying amidst the ambient energy of the night. His senses remained sharp, his focus unwavering as he reasoned through his options. "I'll keep an eye on this place," he mused to himself, his voice a low murmur that carried the weight of his contemplation. "Wait and observe. Learn who comes and goes." Chiron would be proud. But he did want to see what this city had to offer, so…

With a casual shrug, Achilles hopped down from the rooftop to the street below. The city's ambiance enveloped him once more, its bustling energy a reminder of the world he now inhabited. As he walked, his thoughts wandered, the enigma of Kuoh deepening with every step he took. The anticipation of what lay ahead coursed through his veins, his sense of adventure unquenched.

"Exploration it is, then," Achilles declared, his voice carrying a sense of resolve. With each stride, he embraced the allure of the unknown, the thrill of discovery propelling him forward. As the city's secrets unfolded before him, he navigated the streets with purpose, a hero from ages past forging his path through an uncharted future.

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And there we go! I basically took what I had written previously, added more detail, then ran it through ChatGPT to help with lengthening it more and adding more detail. I am terrible with describing set pieces and all that stuff, so it helped add more 'umph' to the story. Let me know what you think, and I'll get a new chapter out soon. I do have about another chapter written already so all I have to do is just go through it.