As Rainer slept, he felt Era's haunting presence cradle about him, and soon he began to fall—sinking into a thick, dark miasma.
For a long moment, silence ruled the void.
Then—
*Swuk! Swuk! Swuk!*
Arrows sliced through the gloom from every direction.
A horn's booming roar followed, shattering the fog to reveal him standing shoulder to shoulder with Roman legionaries in the rain.
Dense forests pressed tight against both flanks, their shadows spitting volleys of death. The hiss of arrows and the clash of iron filled the air.
"Form testudo!"
"We've been ambushed!"
"Centurion! What are your orders?!"
Rainer turned toward the voice—and realized the soldier was addressing him.
He looked ahead, down the long column of shields. He could not see its end. Nor could he when he turned back. To both sides, through the dripping trees, hundreds of feral barbarians burst forth with savage cries.
"Centurio Rainer!"
He looked back at his Optio—a dear friend—and exhaled a weary, knowing breath.
"Ah," He murmured softly, "it's this moment."
He reached out, bringing his helm against his brother-in-arms with a soft clank.
"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you."
The Optio blinked, puzzled for a heartbeat—then he smiled in understanding.
"We had good times."
Rainer nodded once.
"That we did."
Lightning split the sky, flaring his eyes.
When his vision cleared, the world had changed—mud, gore, and filth smeared his armor.
He knelt amid a field of corpses, rain falling like judgment.
Around him lay legionaries—pinned to trees, strewn across rocks, broken beyond recognition.
And in his hands, the head of his Optio stared blankly back.
He did not even notice the barbarians surrounding him, silent, their hate simmering around his psyche.
Rainer closed his eyes, and he was gone, sinking more.
Darkness.
Smoke.
Heat.
*Bam!*
Someone slammed into him and he stumbled forward.
Surprised, he turned, opening his eyes into marble halls lined by towering pillars as legionaries streamed out, grim expressions in the chaos.
"To the western gate! The Visigoths are breaking through!"
Rainer turned, watching them rush past him down the grand stairs below. That was when he saw it... The city—his city, burning as far as the eyes could see—and he laughed.
A hard, bitter laugh that echoed as that of the deranged.
"What are these dreams, Era? Why show this to me? Why…"
*BAM!*
He was ran into again, harder this time, and he tumbled down the stairs with his eyes closed. In the confusion, he suddenly realized that he couldn't breathe.
An icy pressure washed over him, and he opened his eyes to discover—
Water.
Everywhere.
He sank down a deep blue sea as barrels, corpses, and massive broken ships sank all around him.
Gritting his teeth, he kicked upward as panic clawed at his chest. His lungs burned as he swam toward the faint light above.
Breaking the surface, he gasped. Suddenly, there was a bright flash as lightning struck near him, blinding him, but he pushed through—appalled to find waves towering beneath a raging storm, tossing galleys about without care for the nationalities of the warring parties.
"Why!?" He screamed. "Why do you torment me, Era!?"
Suddenly, a colossal wave rose before him, its crest filled with debris—timbers and armor that came crashing down on him.
Then darkness.
—
–
-
"—ner! Rainer!"
Water splashed across his face, and he gasped, eyes flying open to the morning sun.
Kotys stood over him, water skin in hand.
"It's morning. Wake up."
Rainer groaned at the brightness, shielding his eyes as droplets ran down his face. For a moment, he blinked, dazed, unsure if the dream had truly ended.
Then his eyes widened.
"It's morning?!"
Kotys frowned. "You fell asleep. I tried to wake you, but you kept shoving me away. It proved impossible to rouse you."
Rainer stared, stunned.
Behind Kotys, ranks of soldiers marched in tight columns—filing out of the camp toward a small fortress in the distance.
Kotys squatted and began drawing shapes in the dirt with his dagger.
Rainer exhaled heavily, disappointment lining his features.
So much for night training.
Even rest had failed him. His body felt heavy—sluggish, as if carved from lead.
"While you slept like a corpse, I took the time to think..."
Kotys spoke without looking up.
Rainer stretched, wincing.
"Ugh. I'm not ready for this battle."
Kotys' eyes hardened.
"No one ever is."
Rainer rolled his eyes, then stood before him, studying the markings on the ground—an outline of the garrison fort.
"What's this?"
"My observations from yesterday's siege," Kotys remarked in a flat tone.
"What you do with it is up to you."
He pointed at the sketch.
"The wall-top's narrow—barely room for two horses to pass side by side. There are stairways on either end. You'll want to take the ladders at the extremes. Once the wall's clear, you can either descend and claim the gate or hold position for reinforcements."
Rainer frowned thoughtfully as Kotys cut another line downward.
"The wall isn't heavily fortified, but we're short on siege gear. Ladders and a ram—that's all we possess."
"Hm." Rainer nodded slowly. "And that 'X' on the window?"
Kotys' expression tightened.
"The chieftain leading the rebels—a renowned archer. I glimpsed him there yesterday."
Rainer's eyes flickered with interest.
"He's important, then?"
Kotys scoffed.
"An understatement. He's led most of the ambushes we suffered on the march here. The Praefect wants his head."
Rainer smirked, predatory light glinting in his eyes. "You don't say…"
He crouched, grin widening as he studied the 'X.'
"Well then." He chuckled lowly, glancing at Kotys.
"I suppose I've found my target."