The halls of Senator Gaius’ estate reeked of power—polished marble floors, towering statues of gods watching from above, and guards stationed at every entrance. Lucius strode through the corridor, his eyes scanning every shadow. He was not a fool; a summons like this was rarely a simple meeting.

  The guards pushed open the heavy oak doors to the atrium, revealing Gaius seated in a high-backed chair, draped in a rich crimson toga. At his side stood a man Lucius did not recognize—tall, lean, with the air of a predator surveying its prey. His tunic bore no insignia, but the sharpness in his gaze spoke of a man well-versed in the art of war.

  “Lucius,” Gaius greeted, gesturing to the seat across from him. “Join us.”

  Lucius remained standing. “I was told this was urgent.”

  Gaius chuckled, sipping from a goblet of wine. “Everything in Rome is urgent, my friend. But some matters more than others.”

  The unknown man stepped forward. “My name is Varro. I speak on behalf of certain… interests in Rome.”

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  Lucius raised an eyebrow. “Interests?”

  Gaius leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. “The Senate is divided, Lucius. The old guard clings to tradition, fearing the change that men like you represent. And then there are those who see opportunity.”

  Lucius folded his arms. “And which are you?”

  Gaius smirked. “A man who knows that Rome will not survive without strong leadership.”

  Varro spoke again, his tone measured. “You have the loyalty of your legion. You have influence in the streets. But you lack allies in the Senate.” He stepped closer, eyes narrowing. “That can change.”

  Lucius remained silent. The game was clear—Gaius and his faction sought to pull him into their web, to make him a piece on their board. But he was no mere soldier to be commanded.

  “And what do you propose?” he finally asked.

  Gaius set down his goblet. “A simple test of loyalty. There is a senator, old and weak, who stands in our way. Remove him, and we will ensure your path to power remains clear.”

  Lucius exhaled slowly. “You ask me to kill a senator?”

  Gaius smiled. “I ask you to decide what kind of man you wish to be.”

  Silence stretched between them. Lucius knew the choice before him was more than just politics—it was a declaration of the future he intended to carve for himself.

  Finally, he spoke.

  “Give me a name.”

  Gaius grinned, and the game of power continued.