As it turns out, Achilles could easily have fought alongside lunarborn ("Lunar") soldiers.
Resurrected author Homer responded directly to a fan's inquiry about the presence of Lunar soldiers at the fictional siege of Troy, as portrayed in Iliad, with the following image:
Resurrected Homer received a number of questions about the diversity of the Trojan Army. When another fan inquired about whether or not there were Neo-Episcopalian soldiers represented on both sides of the war, despite the tale supposedly occurring before both the birth of Christ, the foundation of the Episcopal Church, and the first Moon colony, the scribe reassured his fans that both Agamemnon and Achilles were staunch believers in today's popular diversity. "I assure you, my characters all had early 21st century western Eurocentric mores," he promised. "They didn't have the offensive cultural attitudes of people from the 1800s, nor the completely improper attitudes of the 1950s, nor the myopic attitudes of the 1990s. They didn't suffer from the ridiculous mores of the 2150s, or the completely incomprehensible mores of the 2400s. They were in fact in line, socially speaking, with how the bulk of my fans feel today."
A small faction of trolls whom nobody liked pointed out that Homer had made similar comments several times over the centuries, using different sets of dates and groups depending on who was unpopular and/or popular at the time.
* * *
The poor, empty woman. She had, and has, this massive platform to reach hundreds of millions of people, and after a decade, she has nothing to look back upon--a wretched little series about eccentric spellbooks, candylands, and inherited perseverance, in which she forgot to mention even one meaningful thing. You can't blame her, or call her a liar, because her heart always was in the right place--she always wanted to say whatever was non-controversial and easily-assimilable, and be popular thereby; accordingly, it's completely fair to assume that, whatever the time or place, she would've said whatever people wanted her to say, and been cheered for it.
How embarrassing, though, to be there so many years later, and to so genuinely wish--to the point of coming to believe yourself--that you had meant, actually meant, to take time away from scrivening another bad Anglo-boarding-school tale about entitled bullies and corrupt deans, and include something, one tiny something, about a character who was actually dealing with a real-life issue of actually and truly being unpopular because of a birth or lifestyle issue whose merits hadn't been definitively resolved over a century ago. How internally embarrassing those moments would be, when you looked over five thousand pages standing in complete and utter disregard of everything you wish you had been knowledgeable enough to care about vis-à-vis any given trend before it became cool...not only for the person who created the narrative, but for the people who so enthusiastically participated in it, to then look back and realize it was all about the 1%; a small coterie of straight white people with plenty of money, engaged in politics, relationships, and homeland security. How disappointing for those who learned about the true nature of the world from various twitter gurus, and who then looked back with wiser eyes upon their own extended childhoods, and there discovered that they themselves had been the enemy all along!
Imagine the implications of extended spotlights, weak character, and public pressure on not just Homer. Would Jane Austen have retroactively made Mr. Darcy a struggling gay? Would Shakespeare have retroactively argued that Shylock had been the good guy all along? Mainstream Americans c. 2015 would have a great deal of trouble dealing with the real Superman--the white nationalist patriarch with no stomach for sodomites--and so he's been retconned. How long before grand councils of literati are convened to verify, for once and for all, that Juliet was a M2F, and that that's why the Capulets didn't want the match to happen?
This is part of why reality is cyclical, and why death is good and healthy. Immortal authors create mortal works: works so weak, fragile, and meaningless that they can no longer represent anything, even their creators themselves. The hungry ghosts out there right now, crapping out more Avengers, aren't only destroying the graveyards they mine; they're also ensuring that their own handiwork will never be anything more enduring than fodder for some other demented wizard's laboratory.