Chapter 2: The Beginning of the Struggle

  I woke up… somewhere else.

  The air felt wrong—too sharp, too electric, like the world couldn’t decide if it was alive or dead. Light and dark clashed around me, everything moving too fast and too slow at once.

  My first thought? I’d been transported thousands of years into the future.

  Turns out, I was only off by a couple thousand.

  Before I could even process that horrifying realization, I noticed the second problem—five people were rushing toward me, weapons raised.

  My instincts screamed ambush, so I reached for my sword. If they wanted a fight, I was ready.

  Then I hesitated.

  Their armor was... strange. Or rather, they weren’t wearing any. Just loose, unfamiliar clothing and strange cloth masks over their faces. Their weapons? Small metal devices with handles, no blades in sight.

  I had no idea what a gun was at the time.

  So I did what any proud Roman soldier would do.

  I charged them head-on.

  Bad idea.

  One of them raised their weapon and squeezed something. A small, burning-hot ball of fire slammed into my chest. My armor dented inward, pain exploding through my ribs.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  What was that thing?!

  I barely had time to register the agony before the world tilted sideways.

  Then—blackness.

  When I came to, the sun was already sinking beneath the horizon. My armor was ruined, so I did the only logical thing—I rummaged through a metal bin and stole some passable clothes. The fabric was thin, rough, but it would do.

  I had a mission.

  I needed to find Rome. I had to warn the emperor. I had to retrieve Romulus’ spear before it was lost forever.

  Then a much bigger problem hit me.

  What if Rome was gone?

  The thought chilled me more than the evening wind. I needed information. Fast.

  So I did what any reasonable person would do: I started asking around.

  Terrible decision.

  People either ignored me or looked at me like I was insane. No one had even heard of Rome. Some even laughed. Laughed.

  I needed help.

  I needed a demigod.

  And surprisingly? Finding one wasn’t that hard. Convincing him that I was a time-traveling Roman soldier who had just lost a world-ending artifact? Easier than expected.

  Getting him to believe I was a demigod son of Athena?

  That part was impossible.

  His name was Finn Reed. The moment he saw me, he frowned, shook his head, and said, “Yeah, I’m not calling you that ridiculous name. You’re Mark now.”

  Weird, but I didn’t argue.

  Then he told me something that shattered my entire worldview—

  Nero was one of Rome’s last emperors.

  The empire had been gone for centuries.

  Oh, and apparently, we were in Canada. Whatever that was.

  So yeah. My day was going great.

  But before I could even begin to process all that, a much bigger problem hit me.

  The spear was missing.

  And judging by the way Finn was avoiding my gaze?

  I had a feeling he knew more than he was letting on.

  We needed answers. And there was only one place to get them.

  Finn led me to the open sea, then whistled—a sharp, commanding sound.

  The water rippled. Then two massive creatures burst from the waves—hippocampi, their sleek, scaled bodies shimmering under the fading sunlight.

  My jaw nearly hit the floor.

  “You’re the son of Poseidon?” I blurted.

  Finn smirked. “Why can’t I be, Athenian?”

  Maybe I’d misjudged him.

  Maybe I hadn’t.

  Either way, I didn’t have a choice.

  I had to trust him.

  The hippocampi carried us toward a distant island, its golden beaches and lush green cliffs almost too perfect.

  A paradise.

  Or a trap.

  And knowing my luck?

  Probably the latter.