"W…What in the world is happening…?"
The question slipped out of one of the gods seated high above the coliseum, his voice trembling despite himself. He wasn't the only one. Far from it.
Dozens of gods hovered in the sky, suspended around the arena like a halo of divine spectators. They had gathered expecting nothing more than the final match of a gladiator tournament—a trivial distraction, hardly meaningful to beings of their rank, yet still preferable to the suffocating monotony that defined their immortal lives.
But the final had been violently interrupted.
The Beasts of Rome had been summoned—ancient horrors, legendary monsters meant for executions and announcements of power, not for casual entertainment. And in the center of the arena, drenched in dust and blood, the mercenary Septimius faced them alone.
At least, that was who everyone thought he was.
Then it happened.
