After qualifying among the survivors, Nathan finally stepped out of the blood-soaked sands of the arena. The roar of the crowd followed him like a tidal wave, a cacophony of cheers and chants that shook the very stone of the Colosseum. Yet, despite the praise, despite the thunder of admiration from thousands of voices, his expression remained calm, almost indifferent.
He had done what was required. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Before the mob of spectators—or worse, his fellow competitors—could close in on him, Nathan quietly slipped away from the spotlight, vanishing down the shaded corridor beneath the stands.
But he wasn't alone.
"You fought quite strangely, Septimius."
The voice was smooth, deliberate. Nathan halted mid-step and lifted his gaze.
The man with piercing blue eyes—the same one he had noticed earlier—was waiting for him in the dim passage, smiling as though they had known each other for years.
