1 Chapter 1 - 212 B.C

This way of dying is probably God's punishment. I stared at that large concrete wall falling from the sky, my feet glued to the ground, my legs unmoving and shaking. The passersby around me screamed in terror, but none came forward to help me. Though, they might not even be able to since the concrete was wide enough that at this time, even if I were to leap at the sides, I'd still die. What a befitting end for a sinner. Still, I smiled. I showed my brightest smile towards everyone that awaited my death. My twenty years of life in the 21st century ended quickly and painless, accompanied by the thought, 'Have I ever enjoyed my life?' Although I had done activities that stimulated the brain, experienced pleasures unimagined by some, and a crime, so thrilling, it became the most pleasurable memory I could never forget. A crime, that, I swear gives me a free pass to hell. I wonder, was that the only thing I slightly enjoyed? If so, I am a scumbag.

Darkness overwhelmed my entity, it's a wonder how I can even think. I see nothing, I feel nothing, yet I can think. Am I in a vegetative state? Perhaps, I turned into a vegetable. However, Hardly anyone would not be squeezed into a paste after a block of concrete fell from high above. Pondering over my situation would not solve anything, yet madness will overtake me if I were not to entertain myself. And so I pondered, not of my situation, but of perceiving the truths of the world, a thought I hardly would ever think to do when I was alive. I imagined myself, sitting on a rock, imitating that famous sculpture 'The thinker'. It made me want to laugh, and so I heard a burst of crazed laughter. Laughter? Is this the devil's laughter?

"Have my son come possessed, Medicus!?" That laughter came about for a while accompanied by an angered roar. I discerned the man's age based on his raspy voice, about middle-aged I say. However, the language he used was strangely familiar yet at the same time unfamiliar. Barely understanding it is an understatement — I could not understand a thing!

A panicked old voice answered right after. "Calm down, Lord Servius, the young lord is safe from harm." The panicked voice then continued. "I assure you, it is only an effect of the concoction. Tomorrow, the young lord will return to his usual self."

The man to which the angry roar stemmed from seemed to have calmed down, his words were with a touch of terrifying serenity. "Then come stay for the night, Medicus, as thanks for your great service." I could feel no sincerity from the man's voice.

Soon, the sound stopped after I heard the sound of a door closing. I became excited from what I've heard, it may be my delusions but a desperate man will cling to hope. Time seemed to have frozen until I felt a piercing, blinding feeling. Slowly, I tried to think of my eyes and imagined opening them. Light! Is this the sunlight!? My vision was a blur but I can see the shape of those around me. Filled with delight, I tried looking around, and everything I saw, though barely, aroused me. Albeit, the interest in my surroundings and situation. Focusing my sight and minutes later, it seemed to have adjusted and I was able to see clearly. I felt liberated, and more than that, invigorated. The darkness was a prison, similar to a cave, and I am the prisoner that escaped and saw the light.

My room, which I assumed was mine, was of a large space, incomparable to the small-sized apartment in the city I lived in. An exquisitely designed porcelain lay standing on a wooden table, its design portrayed a woman, with an aesthetic of ancient Rome. The light breeze that brushed against my cheeks reminded me of something, then I looked down on my body as I lifted the blanket that covered it. "What the fuck!" I shouted, bewildered by what I have seen. My well-trained body with lean muscles due to my athletic background was nowhere in sight. What came to view was a body of a small little boy, however, something more made me anxious and so I lifted my robes, to check if my treasure is of a tiny scale. Fortunately, my concerns were unfounded and it was of a far above average size, for a little boy that is. "I guess this will grow larger than my previous one." I could not help but comment due to the newly found bliss.

When I thought of my white robe, the ancient Romans came to mind, and a conclusion was formed. And it was furthermore reinforced by the scene that came right after. "Young lord!" A womanly scream rang in my ears while I fiddled with my cock, I looked up and a woman, youthful and plump, came into view. I stared at her unashamed, and she stared at my cock, blushing. The language she spoke was at the tip of my tongue... Err... "Latin!" Excited, I shouted the answer. Indeed, it sounded like modern Latin. "Who are you, miss?" I tried to speak in English, hoping that this woman might be knowledgeable and I was still in denial of my earlier conjecture. However, the woman stared at me like an idiot, she seemed to be in thought. The weird silence that permeated between me and the pretty woman was broken by the sound of rushed footsteps from the halls outside.

"What happened, woman?" A middle-aged man donning a plain white toga with the length reaching an inch above his feet. I felt intimidated by the scars on his face, especially the long scar on the cheeks. He walked and stood upright, and his demeanor resembled someone of high standing, well trained and elegant, yet also stern. The woman, who was questioned, paled when she saw the man and she bowed meekly, speaking words as if asking for forgiveness.

"Forgive me for my offense, milord. I saw the young lord awake and I shouted in surprise."

Hearing her answer, the man, Servius, turned his head on the side and his eyes became teary when he saw me. He walked quickly towards me, his hurried forceful steps echoed around the room whilst I stare at him in confusion. "My child you are safe." Unlike his stern nature earlier, Servius spoke affectionately and he leaned forward to hug me. "Those bastards have been punished, none will harm you anymore." I was unable to understand his words, however, it did not mean that I could not feel the feelings in it. Strangely, I was slightly touched — it might be because of his blood that flows through my veins, or my immature brain.

The hug went around for a minute before the man who should be my father had let go of the embrace. "Ave," I said the only Latin word I know that I can use to communicate with. I knew we could not understand each other with just this simple greeting, and then a certain artist's song came into my mind. "No Habla Latin." My father looked at me the way the woman did.