Time stopped.
The bell rang.
A Carabinieri officer approached. “Signore… what do we call you? Gladiator? Hero?” Private - Gladiator -2002-
Then the opposite door opened.
“The op in Philippi wasn't about a warlord,” Lucius said. “It was about this. A cache of Imperial Roman artifacts that a certain general wanted to sell. Your squad found it. Then your traitorous captain, Decimus, killed them and blamed you. He sold the artifacts to a man named Antonius Gaius—today, he calls himself Tony Gage.” Time stopped
Decimus charged, fast and brutal, slashing with the K-bar. Marcus didn’t retreat. He stepped into the attack, catching the K-bar on his vambrace—ancient bronze against modern steel. Sparks flew. He pivoted, slamming the pommel of the gladius into Decimus’s jaw. “Signore… what do we call you
Lucius opened a crate. Inside, nestled in foam, was not a vase or a statue. It was a gladius —a short sword, its steel impossibly bright, its hilt carved with a wolf’s head. Beside it lay a bronze helmet with a scratched, silver visor.