Private - Gladiator -2002- -

Time stopped.

“The op in Philippi wasn't about a warlord,” Lucius said. “It was about this. A cache of Imperial Roman artifacts that a certain general wanted to sell. Your squad found it. Then your traitorous captain, Decimus, killed them and blamed you. He sold the artifacts to a man named Antonius Gaius—today, he calls himself Tony Gage.”

“Private First Class Marcus Tullius,” Lucius said, savoring the name. “Your mother was Roman. Your father, American. You were born between worlds. That is why you survived.” Private - Gladiator -2002-

“I want you to reclaim your name,” Lucius said. “Rome is no longer an empire of borders. It is an empire of secrets, wealth, and violence. The arena has just changed its address. Put on the helmet, Private. For one night, become the gladiator you were always meant to be.”

A Carabinieri officer approached. “Signore… what do we call you? Gladiator? Hero?” Time stopped

Then he dropped the gladius. It clanged on the bloody sand.

Decimus fell. Marcus pulled the gladius free and stood over him, breathing hard. He looked at the wealthy men in the audience—the senators of this new Rome. He looked at Tony Gage, whose smile had vanished. A cache of Imperial Roman artifacts that a

Lucius Vorenus was a small, neat man with eyes like flint chips. He wasn't alone. Behind him stood a hulking figure in a black tracksuit—shaved head, a brutal scar across his nose, and the posture of a killer.