[For all the time he has now passed among modern men, he does not infer from San's gesture the intent to shake hands - and so instead, he tentatively takes the bony hand in his grasp and welcomes him with a light squeeze.]

I am Achilles, son of Peleus.

[From his countenance it is plain that he is perturbed by his appearance, a man of bone rather than of skin and flesh. He had met Papyrus once yet this meeting is no less strange to him.]

By what arts did you arrive so quickly? It is only the gods who move as though by mists, disappearing from mortal sight and appearing once more as they will.